Floral Poetry. 
THE HAZEL. 
InJHENE’ER I see soft hazel eyes 
* * And nut-brown curls, 
I think of those bright days I spent 
Among the Limerick girls ; 
When up through Cratla woods I went, 
Nutting with thee; 
And we plucked the glossy clustering fruit 
From many a bending tree. 
Beneath the hazel boughs we sat, 
Thou, love, and I, 
And the gathered nuts lay in thy lap, 
Beneath thy downcast eye : 
But little we thought of the store we’d won, 
I, love, or thou ; 
For our hearts were full, and we dare not own 
The love that’s spoken now. 
Oh, there’s wars for willing hearts in Spain, 
And high Germanie ! 
And Ell come back, ere long, again, 
With knightly fame and fee : 
And I’ll come back, if I ever come back, 
Faithful to thee, 
That sat with thy white lap full of nuts 
Beneath the Hazel tree. 
AB 
Samuel Ferguson. 
