His wallet's stuffed with blisses,
With true-love-knots and kisses,
With rings and rosy fetters,
And sugared vows and letters;—
He holds them out
With boyish flout,

And bids me try the fetters.

Nary, Child (I cry), I know them;
There's little need to show them!
Too well for new believing

I know their past deceiving,—
I am too old

(I say), and cold,
To-day-for new believing!

But still the wanton presses,
With honey-sweet caresses,
And still, to my undoing,
He wins me, with his wooing,
To buy his wares
With all their cares,

Their sorrow and undoing!

AUSTIN DOBSON.

LOVE IS LIFE'S END.

Love is life's end; an end but never ending; All joys, all sweets, all happiness awarding;

LOVE IS LIFE'S END.

Love is life's wealth (ne'er spent but ever spending.)

235

Love's life's reward, rewarded in rewarding; Then from thy wretched heart fond care remove, Ah! should'st thou live but once love's sweets to

prove,

Thou wilt not love to live, unless thou live to

love.

EDMUND SPENSER.

END OF VOL. I.