POETRY OP FLOWERS. 
85 
Her dark an’ flowing silken hair, 
In ringlets kiss a cheek so fair, 
That aft I’ve wished sic bliss to share— 
Sweet lily o’ the vale. 
Wi’ beauty’s form, an’ grace refined, 
She bears within a wealthy mind, 
Whaur a’ that’s pure an’ bricht’s combined— 
Dear lily o’ the vale. 
Flowers mair gay may deck the plain ; 
Sae chaste an’ lovely, there are nane, » 
To me at least, compared wi’ Jane— 
The lily o’ the vale. 
TO CELIA. 
Drink to me only with thine eyes. 
And I will pledge with mine! 
Or leave a kisse within the cup. 
And I’le not looke for wine. 
The thirst that from the soule doth rise 
Doth aske a drink divine ; 
But might I of Jove’s nectar sip, 
I would not change for thine. 
I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath. 
Not so much honouring thee. 
