Iii

How can I help from loving, dear, Since love is of the sweetened year? The very vermin feel her power, And chip and chirrup hour by hour: It is the grasshopper at noon, The cricket's at it in the moon, Whiles lizzards glitter in the dew, And bats be on the wing; Such days of joy are short and few. Grant me thy love this spring.

WITH THE SEASONS.