This page has been validated.
Madrigal.
The wreath.
A wreath of fair flowers the maid
Had gathered all wild on the lea,
And wove in a fanciful braid,
She smiling presented to me.
'O yes,' whispered I in her ear,
'This chain I may venture to take;
But that of your beauty, I fear,
Will not be so easy to break.'
Spiritual Song
Hark, echo!—Hark; echo!
'Tis the sound
Of archangels, in happiness wrapt.
