WHEN ICICLES HANG.

When all aloud the wind doth blow,

And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw;
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,

Then nightly sings the staring owl,
Tu-whoo!

Tu-whit tu-whoo! a merry note,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

THE NYMPH'S REPLY

TO THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD.

IF all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb,

The rest complain of cares to come.

THE NYMPH'S REPLY.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue-a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs ;
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

SIR WALTER RAI EIGH.