This page has been validated.
LYRICAL POEMS.
83
THE MAY-TREE.
A MAY-TREE fair at Whitsuntide
Was brought me by my lover,
It was the fairest pine he could
In all the grove discover.
E’en as a fish’s eye the moon
Doth in my chamber shine,
I see him from the window, and
His feelings well divine.
He at the window knock’d, and ‘Grant,
O grant one kiss!’ he cried,
But like a little mouse beneath
The coverlet I hide.
Right eye above the coverlet
Seems fast asleep to be,
Left eye beneath the coverlet
Laughs at him merrily.
He calls again; not so the stag
Thirsts for the cooling tide,
Not so the bee that longing seeks
For honey far and wide.
G2
