And Love triumphs once more;
Its onely what the boy hath done
A thousand times before.

None may resist his mightie power;
And though a boy, and blinde,
He knows to chase a happie hour
When maidens must be kinde.




MY BONNY LASS! THINE EYE.

By THOMAS LODGE, M.D.

[Footnote: The original of this poem not being within my reach at
present, I have inserted Professor Arber's modern version.]




My bonny lass! thine eye,
So sly,
Hath made me sorrow so.
Thy crimson cheeks, my dear!
So clear,
Have so much wrought my woe.

Thy pleasing smiles and grace,