I WOO'D AND I WON HER.

1

I woo'd and thank Heav'n!-I won her,

She is mine--she is mine till death part; In return for my fealty and honour

She gave me her own loving heart.

2

Blame not my exulting emotion,
But this I can truly declare

That not for all gems in the Ocean

Would I barter one lock of her hair.

3

You may deem me prodigiously simple,

But I would not exchange for a throne One smile, or one glance, or one dimple Of the girl who is now all my own.

4

If impious, may I be forgiven!
But if from this cot on the hill

I could now go without her to Heaven,
I would rather stay here with her still.

HOMEWARD.

The throstle with his note so true."

1

SHAKESPEARE.

EVE gently still prevents dark night,
And veils the lustre of the stars;
The folds are piled with fleeces white;
The ash-stems lift their slender spars
Like marble shafts in some mild clime,

Not roofless left by storm or time;

A sylvan theatre, wherein

The thrush will soon his theme begin.

2

Brief pause-then his spontaneous strains
Surprise and charm the winged choir;

And mute each other bird remains,

Content to listen and admire :

Fresh wreaths the wildflowers for him weave,

I too a bouquet ought to leave,

And would, but that yon taper's ray,

Just kindled, beckons me away.

3

Yet I would fain stay here to prove
The truth and pathos of that song,
Though it would mind me of my love,
And urge me not to tarry long;

Or warn me with severer tone

Not to forget she is alone,

Pleading for her as for his mate,

In her own dell disconsolate.

4

Blushing at such sincere upbraiding,
I to my Mentor bid Adieu !

But hear his chiding and persuading
When my own rooftree comes in view;
And there an accent still more sweet
Does the same argument repeat,
Convincing me the thoughtful bird

Had the like fond monition heard.