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Why then, say, what is he,
To freedom so unknown,
Who, having two or three,
Will be content with one?
425. THE WILLOW GARLAND.
A willow garland thou did'st send
Perfum'd, last day, to me,
Which did but only this portend—
I was forsook by thee.
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 altars go
With garlands dress'd, so I
Will, with my willow-wreath, also
Come forth and sweetly die.
427. A HYMN TO SIR CLIPSEBY CREW.
'Twas not love's dart,
Or any blow
Of want, or foe,
Did wound my heart
With an eternal smart;
But only you,
My sometimes known
