Robin came behind me,

Kissed me well I vow;

Cuff him could I? with my hands

Milking the cow?

Swallows fly again,

Cuckoos cry again,

And you came and kissed me milking the cow.

Come, Robin, Robin,

Come and kiss me now;

Help it can I? with my hands

Milking the cow?

Ringdoves coo again,

All things woo again,

Come behind and kiss me milking the cow!

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.

COMIN' THROUGH THE RYE.

GIN a body meet a body

Comin' through the rye,

Gin a body kiss a body,

Need a body cry?

Every lassie has her laddie,—

Ne'er a ane hae I;

Yet a' the lads they smile at me
When comin' through the rye.

Amang the train there is a swain
I dearly lo'e mysel';

But whaur his hame, or what his name,
I dinna care to tell.

Gin a body meet a body

Comin' frae the town,

Gin a body greet a body,

Need a body frown?

Every lassie has her laddie,-
Ne'er a ane hae I;

Yet a' the lads they smile at me
When comin' through the rye.
Amang the train there is a swain
I dearly lo'e mysel';

But whaur his hame, or what his name,
I dinna care to tell.

ADAPTED FROM ROBERT BURNS.

WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU,
MY LAD.

O WHISTLE, and I'll come to you, my lad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin' to me.
And come, etc.

O whistle, etc.

At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho' that ye cared nae a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black ee,
Yet look as ye were na lookin' at me.
Yet look, etc.

O whistle, etc.

Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But court nae anither, tho' jokin' ye be,
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.
For fear, etc.

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

ROBERT BURNS.

SONNET UPON A STOLEN KISS.

Now gentle sleep hath closèd up those eyes
Which, waking, kept my boldest thoughts in awe;
And free access unto that sweet lip lies,

From whence I long the rosy breath to draw.
Methinks no wrong it were, if I should steal
From those two melting rubies one poor kiss;
None sees the theft that would the theft reveal,
Nor rob I her of aught what she can miss:
Nay, should I twenty kisses take away,
There would be little sign I would do so;
Why then should I this robbery delay?
O, she may awake, and therewith angry grow!
Well, if she do, I'll back restore that one,
And twenty hundred thousand more for loan.

GEORGE WITHER.

CAPRICE.

I.

SHE hung the cage at the window,

"If he goes by," she said,

"He will hear my robin singing,
And when he lifts his head,

I shall be sitting here to sew,
And he will bow to me, I know."

The robin sang a love-sweet song,
The young man raised his head;
The maiden turned away and blushed:
"I'm a fool!" she said,

And went on broidering in silk
A pink-eyed rabbit, white as milk.

II.

The young man loitered slowly

By the house three times that day; She took her bird from the window: "He need not look this way."

She sat at her piano long,

And sighed, and played a death-sad song.

But when the day was done, she said, "I wish that he would come! Remember, Mary, if he calls

To-night-I'm not at home."

So when he rang, she went-the elf!She went and let him in herself.

III.

They sang full long together

Their songs love-sweet, death-sad, The robin woke from his slumber, And rang out, clear and glad. "Now go," she coldly said, "'t is late;" And followed him-to latch the gate.

He took the rosebud from her hair,
While, "You shall not," she said:
He closed her hand within his own,
And while her tongue forbade,
Her will was darkened in the eclipse
Of blinding love upon his lips.

WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS.

SLY THOUGHTS.

"I SAW him kiss your cheek!"-" "T is true." "O Modesty!"""T was strictly kept: He thought me asleep; at least, I knew He thought I thought he thought I slept."

COVENTRY PATMORE.

THE WHISTLE.

"You have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart, who stood,

While he sat on a corn-sheaf, at daylight's de

cline,

"You have heard of the Danish boy's whistle of wood?

I wish that that Danish boy's whistle were mine."

"And what would you do with it?-tell me," she

said,

While an arch smile played over her beautiful

face.