_Chor_.--And stills the bride too when she cries:

2. Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear,
It frisks and flies; now here, now there;
'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near;
_Chor_.--And here, and there, and everywhere.

1. Has it a speaking virtue?--2. Yes.
1. How speaks it, say?--2. Do you but this,
Part your join'd lips, then speaks your kiss;
_Chor_.--And this love's sweetest language is.

1. Has it a body?--2. Aye, and wings,
With thousand rare encolourings;
And, as it flies, it gently sings,
_Chor_.--Love honey yields, but never stings.


TO DAFFODILS.

1 Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attain'd his noon:
Stay, stay
Until the hast'ning day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And, having pray'd together, we
Will go with you along!