27
The honeysuckle give to Kate,
So kindly and caressing;
Whoever wins her for a mate,
Will win both wealth and blessing.
Narcissus take to Roland Hay,
The dandy of our village;
Whose Sunday suit walks every day,
Far from his farm and tillage.
Yon bramble fling to Rachel Rann,
So crabby and so spiteful;
The mignionette's for little Fan,
Both darlings—they're delightful.
Sweet William flies to blushing Sue,
For oh! she loves him dearly;
The scarlet poppy, Meg, to you,
Your lip's as red, or nearly."
The green is swept—the fiddler's come,
And lads, to lasses glancing
(While flourishes sound on the drum),
Are eager to be dancing.
And Lubin now, without remorse,
His bright blue vest's adorning
With a gay bunch of yellow gorse;
While all the maids are scorning
