170 
Now, to the Ladye Edith oft 
Sir Rupert had told o’er 
The emblem of each glowing bud 
In this quaint graceful lore :— 
But Edith (as dames mostly do), 
Liked Learning less than Love; 
The owl of Pallas she would shun 
To seek Cytherea’s dove. 
And so it chanced that she forgot 
Full many a fancy sweet. 
And sometimes gave, in careless mood. 
Flowers for the time unmeet. 
The eve I tell of ’gan to close. 
Fast fell the soft twilight; 
And the young moon amid the leaves 
Peeped forth, all chaste and bright. 
So very innocent she looked. 
As if she ne’er had seen 
Lovers before, and curious, strove 
To hide behind a screen 
Of leaves,—which Zephyr waved 
That she might peer between. 
And o’er the shut and sleepy flowers 
’Gan weep the Summer-dew; 
