They’ll bloom no more, nor wilt thou ride that way;

Nor, Sieur de Morbec, dost thou love the rose.

For once thou said’st to me upon a day

When I did find the Morbec roses fair,

“I better love the heartsease at thy feet.”

The peasant flower! Rememb’rest thou that day?

‘Twas Saint John’s Eve—

De Vardes

Would I remembered not!

The Marquise