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Jessie is both kind and true,
If she yet remain unsung,
Jessie is a little child!
She gamboll'd on the greens
I swear, by leaf, and wind, and rain-
That tho' I circle in the grain
Five hundred rings of years,
Yet, since I first could cast a shade,
So slightly, musically made,
Then ran she, gamesome as the colt,
And livelier than a lark
A Garden of Girls
She sent her voice thro' all the holt
A light wind chased her on the wing,
But light as any wind that blows,
The flower she touch'd on, dipt and rose,
And turned to look at her.
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.
From "The Talking Oak."
O tell me, little children, have you seen her—
Nikolina! swift she turns if any call her,
With spikes of slender larkspur, burning blue.
In her little garden many a flower is growing--
But the child that stands amid the blossoms gay A Garden Is sweeter, quainter, brighter e'en than they.
The Solitary Reaper
Behold her, single in the field,
No nightingale did ever chaunt
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard,
Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Garden of Girls
Or is it some more humble lay,
Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang
Helena and Hermia
Have with our needles created both one flower,
Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
Two of the first, like coats in heraldry
Due but to one, and crownéd with one crest.
From "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
In petticoat of green,
Sat milking her fair flock;
"Mongst that sweet-strained moisture, rare de
Her hand seemed milk, in milk it was so white.
So Sweet Is She
Have you seen but a bright lily grow,
Or have smelt o' the bud of the brier?