FLORA AND THALIA. 



My mild and winsome Jasmine-tree, 



That climbest up the dark grey wall. 

 Thy tiny flowerets seem in glee, 



Like silver spray-drogs, dov/n to fall : 

 Say, did they from their leaves thus peep, 



When mailed moss-troopers rode the hill ; 

 When helmed warders paced the keep, 



And bugles blew for Belted Will 1* 



My free and feathery Jasmine-tree, 



Within the fragrance of thy breath, 

 Yon dungeon grated to its key, 



And the chained captive pined for death. 

 On border fray, on feudal crime, 



I dream not while I gaze on thee ; 

 The chieftains of that stern old time 



Could ne'er have loved a Jasmine-tree. 



LOUD MOKPETH. 



* LorJ William Hjwiird.— See " Lay of ihe Lust Miiis- 

 irel,"&c. 



