Won her heart right merrily:
At church she no more frowning cried,
"No, no, it will not do;
I canna, canna, wonna, wonna,
manna buckle to."

_Anon._




THE NIGHT-PIECE TO JULIA.


Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow,
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there's none to affright thee.

Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,