THE wind is awake, pretty leaves, pretty leaves,
Heed not what he says; he deceives, he deceives : Over and over
He has lisped the same love (and forgotten it, too)
He will soon be lisping and pledging to you.
The boy is abroad, pretty maid, pretty maid,
Beware his soft words; I'm afraid, I'm afraid:
He has said them before
Ay, he died for a dozen ere his beard pricked through,
And the very same death he will die for you.
The way of the boy is the way of the wind,
As light as the leaves is dainty maid-kind;
One to deceive,
And one to believe
That is the way of it, year to year;
But I know you will learn it too late, my dear.
Sweetheart, name the day for me
When we two shall wedded be.
Make it ere another moon,
While the meadows are in tune,
And the trees are blossoming,
And the robins mate and sing.
Whisper, love, and name a day
In the merry month of May.
You shall not escape me so!
Love will not forever wait;
Roses fade when gathered late.
Fie, for shame, Sir Malcontent!
How can time be better spent
Than in wooing? I would wed
When the clover blossoms red,
When the air is full of bliss,
And the sunshine like a kiss.
If you're good I'll grant a boon :
You shall have me, sir, in June.
Girls for once should have their way!
If you love me, wait till June:
Rosebuds wither picked too soon.
TOUJOURS AMOUR.
PRITHEE tell me, Dimple-Chin,
At what age does Love begin?
Your blue eyes have scarcely seen
Summers three, my fairy queen,
But a miracle of sweets,
Soft approaches, sly retreats,
Show the little archer there,
Hidden in your pretty hair;
When didst learn a heart to win?
Prithee tell me, Dimple-Chin!
"Oh!" the rosy lips reply,
"I can't tell you if I try.
'Tis so long I can't remember:
Ask some younger lass than I!”
Tell, oh tell me, Grizzled-Face,
Do your heart and head keep pace?
When does hoary Love expire,
When do frosts put out the fire ?
Can its embers burn below
All that chill December snow?
Care you still soft hands to press,
Bonny heads to smooth and bless ?
When does Love give up the chase?
Tell, oh tell me, Grizzle-Face!
"Ah!" the wise old lips reply,
"Youth may pass, and strength may die;
But of Love I can't foretoken:
Ask some older sage than I!"
THE violet loves a sunny bank,
The cowslip loves the lea,
The scarlet creeper loves the elm,
But I love thee.
The sunshine kisses mount and vale,
The stars they kiss the sea,
The west winds kiss the clover bloom,
But I kiss-thee.
The oriole weds his mottled mate,
The lily's bride o' the bee;
Heaven's marriage ring is round the earth,
THE LOVE KNOT.
TYING her bonnet under her chin,
She tied her raven ringlets in;
But not alone in its silken snare
Did she catch her lovely floating hair,
For, tying her bonnet under her chin,
She tied a young man's heart within.
They were strolling together up the hill,
Where the wind comes blowing merry and chill;
And it blew the curls a frolicsome race,
All over the happy peach-color'd face,
Till, scolding and laughing, she tied them in,
Under her beautiful dimpled chin.
And it blew a color, bright as the bloom
Of the pinkest fuschia's tossing plume,
All over the cheeks of the prettiest girl
That ever imprison'd a romping curl,
Or, tying her bonnet under her chin,
Tied a young man's heart within.
Steeper and steeper grew the hill;
Madder, merrier, chillier still
The western wind blew down, and play'd
The wildest tricks with the little maid,
As, tying her bonnet under her chin,
She tied a young man's heart within.
O western wind, do you think it was fair
To play such tricks with her floating hair?
To gladly, gleefully do your best
To blow her against the young man's breast,
Where he as gladly folded her in;
And kissed her mouth and dimpled chin?
Ah, Ellery Vane, you little thought,
An hour ago, when you besought
This country lass to walk with you,
After the sun had dried the dew,
What perilous danger you'd be in,
As she tied her bonnet under her chin!
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