A Garden of Girls

Which ne'er forgot will be;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doune and dee.

Her brow is like the snawdrift,
Her throat is like the swan,
Her face it is the fairest
That e'er the sun shone on,—
That e'er the sun shone on;
And dark blue is her e'e;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doune and dee.

Like dew on the gowan lying
Is the fa' o' her fairy feet;
Like the winds in summer sighing,
Her voice is low and sweet,-

Her voice is low and sweet;

And she's a' the world to me;

And for bonnie Annie Laurie

I'd lay me doune and dee.

WILLIAM DOUGLAS OF FINGLAND.

Lucy

Three years she grew in sun and shower;

Then Nature said, "A lovelier flower

On earth was never sown:

This child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.

66

'Myself will to my darling be Both law and impulse: and with me

The girl, in rock and plain,

In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power

To kindle or restrain.

"She shall be sportive as the fawn That, wild with glee, across the lawn, Or up the mountain springs;

And hers shall be the breathing balm,

And hers the silence and the calm

Of mute, insensate things.

"The floating clouds their state shall lend

To her; for her the willow bend;

Nor shall she fail to see

E'en in the motions of the storm

Grace that shall mold the maiden's form

By silent sympathy.

A Garden of Girls

Ꮽ

"The stars of midnight shall be dear
To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place

Where rivulets dance their wayward round,

And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.

"And vital feelings of delight

Shall rear her form to stately height,

Her virgin bosom swell;

Such thoughts to Lucy I will give

While she and I together live

Here in this happy dell."

Thus Nature spake the work was done―

How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died, and left to me

This heath, this calm and quiet scene;

The memory of what has been,

And nevermore will be.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

Jessie

Jessie is both young and fair,
Dewy eyes and sunny hair;
Sunny hair and dewy eyes

Are not where her beauty lies.

Jessie is both kind and true,
Heart of gold and will of yew;
Will of yew and heart of gold—
Still her charms are scarcely told.

If she yet remain unsung,
Pretty, constant, docile, young.
What remains not here compiled?

Jessie is a little child!

A Garden

of Girls

BRET HARTE.

Olivia

She gamboll'd on the greens
A baby-germ, to when
The maiden blossoms of her teens
Could number five from ten.

I swear, by leaf, and wind, and rain---
And hear me with thine ears-
That tho' I circle in the grain
Five hundred rings of years,

Yet, since I first could cast a shade,
Did never creature pass

So slightly, musically made,
So light upon the grass.

Then ran she, gamesome as the colt,

And livelier than a lark

A Garden of Girls

She sent her voice thro' all the holt
Before her, and the park.

A light wind chased her on the wing,
And in the chase grew wild,

As close as might be would he cling
About the darling child.

But light as any wind that blows,
So fleetly did she stir,

The flower she touch'd on, dipt and rose,

And turned to look at her.

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.

From "The Talking Oak."

Nikolina

O tell me, little children, have you seen her-
The tiny maid from Norway, Nikolina?
O, her eyes are blue as cornflow'rs mid the corn,
And her cheeks are rosy red as skies of morn!

Nikolina! swift she turns if any call her,
As she stands among the poppies, hardly taller,
Breaking off their scarlet cups for you,
With spikes of slender larkspur, burning blue.

In her little garden many a flower is growing-
Red, gold, and purple in the soft wind blowing.