This page has been validated.
176
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;
