108 SAPPHICS. 



A7iother. 



Drunk with the dewdrop, perched on twig so lofty, 

 Noisy Cicada, o'er the wild waste sounding, 

 Sawlike the feet which to thy side thou pressest, 



Drawing sweet music. 



Try then, my beautj', tune another measure ; 

 Pan shall reward thy labours with an echo ; 

 Beneath the plane tree, all my love forgetting, 



Woo me to slumber. 



Another. 



Wandering, once, I saw a spider weaving 

 Lithesome his meshes, and a poor Cicada, 

 Firmly entangled in the filmy network. 



Chirped for his freedom. 



Quickly I hastened to the child, songloving ; 

 Quickly released him from the fearful durance ; 

 " Fly then," said I ; " with liberty I pay thee 



" For thy sweet music." 



E. Newman, Priuttr, 9, Devonsbire Street, Bighopsgate. 



