LITERARY.
To Miss :
Lift thine e3 r es, sweet love, and see
How tender thoug-hts twixt me and thee.
Do fill the world itself with gdee.
Tell me Darling-, when we meet.
How much of thy treasure, sweet.
Dimples hide in their retreat!
Sweet is music, honey, wine;
Sweet the scent of budding- vine;
Sweet the wild wood egdantine;
Sweetest, best, because she’s mine.
Is my love, my valentine!
Where’s the lady in the land,
Fit to sit on 3'our rig-ht hand?
Where's the man—myself apart —
Who loves enoug-h to have 3"Our heart?