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THE LADYE'S CHAPLET.
And floures freshe, blue, red, and white,
Be her about, the more for to delight;
And on her heade she hath a chapelet
Of roses red, full pleasantly yset.
Lydgate.
Hire yelwe here was broided in a tresse
Behind hire back a yerde long, I gesse.
And in the gardin, at the sonne uprist,
She walketh up and doun; wher as hire list,
She gathereth floures, partie white and red,
To make a sotel gerlond for hire hed,
And as an angel hevenlich she song.
Chaucer.
At every turn she made a little stand,
And thrust among the thorns her lily hand,
To draw the rose; and every rose she drew
She shook the stalk, and brushed away the dew.
Dryden.
"I sigh for thee, Love, when the morning skies
Their earliest beams of rosy radiance wear,
And earthly things a heavenly brightness bear;
The bending Flowers upraise their tearful eyes,
Heavy with pearly dew that on them lies,
And the fond sun, with all a nurse's care,
Kisses the shining drops that lingered there
From each moist, downcast face; and soon arise,
In laughing beauty, all the glittering band.
How gaily dance they on the wavy air!
The fields and garden are a fairy land—
And sportive Mab, on some tall lily fair,
