HAWTHORN. 139 



But, red with fruit, that Hawthorn bough, 



Though leafless, yet will shine; 

 The blackbird far its hues shall know, 



As lapwincr knows the vine. 



Be thus thy youth as Lilies gay, 



Thy manhood vigorous green ; 

 A.nd thus let fruit bedeck thy spray, 



'Mid age's leafless scene. 



The same, — anon. 



Fair Hawthorn flowering, 



With green shade bowering 

 Along the lovely shore; 



To thy foot around 



With his long arm wound 

 A wild vine has mantled thee o'er. 



In merry spring-tide. 



When to woo his bride 

 The nightingale comes again. 



Thy boughs among 



He warbles his song, 

 That lightens a lover's pain. 



'Mid thy topmost leaves 

 His nest he weaves 

 Of moss and the satin fine, 

 Where his callow brood 

 Shall chirp at their food, 



Secure from each hand but mine 

 13* 



