WEEPING WILLOW. 145 
Since so it is, I’ll tell thee what: 
To-morrow thou shalt see 
Me wear the willow ; after that 
To die upon the tree. 
As beasts unto the altar go 
With garlands dressed, so I 
Will with my willow wreath also 
Come forth and sweetly die. 
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SONNET. 
GARCILASSO. 
For Daphne’s laurel Phoebus gave his voice : 
The towering poplar charmed stern Hercules ; 
The myrtle sweet, whose gifted flowers rejoice 
Young hearts in love, did most warm Venus please ; 
The little green willow is my Fledri’s choice : 
She gathers it amidst a thousand trees. 
Thus laurel, poplar, and sweet myrtle now, 
Where’er it grows, shall to the willow bow. 

THE DROOPING WILLOW. 
L. E. L, 
GREEN willow ! over whom the perilous blast 
Is sweeping roughly, thou dost seem to me 
The patient emblem of humility, 
Waiting in meekness till the storm be passed, 
Assured an hour of peace will come at last ;— 
That there will be-for thee a calm bright day 
When the dark clouds are gathered far away. 
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