Hymen, late, his love-knots selling,
Called at many a maiden's dwelling:
None could doubt, who saw or knew them,
Hymen's call was welcome to them.
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
"Who'll buy my love-knots?"
Soon as that sweet cry resounded
How his baskets were surrounded!
Maids, who now first dreamt of trying
These gay knots of Hymen's tying;
Dames, who long had sat to watch him
Passing by, but ne'er could catch him;—
"Who'll buy my love-knots?
"Who'll buy my love-knots?"—
All at that sweet cry assembled;
Some laughed, some blushed, and some trembled.
"Here are knots," said Hymen, taking
Some loose flowers, "of Love's own making;
"Here are gold ones—you may trust 'em"—
(These, of course, found ready custom).
"Come, buy my love-knots!
"Come, buy my love-knots!
"Some are labelled 'Knots to tie men—
"Love the maker—Bought of Hymen.'"
Scarce their bargains were completed,
When the nymphs all cried, "We're cheated!
"See these flowers—they're drooping sadly;
"This gold-knot, too, ties but badly—
"Who'd buy such love-knots?
"Who'd buy such love-knots?
"Even this tie, with Love's name round it—
"All a sham—He never bound it."
Love, who saw the whole proceeding,
Would have laughed, but for good breeding;
While Old Hymen, who was used to
Cries like that these dames gave loose to—
"Take back our love-knots!
"Take back our love-knots!"
Coolly said, "There's no returning
"Wares on Hymen's hands—Good morning!"
SEE, THE DAWN FROM HEAVEN.
(TO AN AIR SUNG AT ROME, ON CHRISTMAS EVE.)
See, the dawn from Heaven is breaking
O'er our sight,
And Earth from sin awaking,
Hails the light!
See those groups of angels, winging
From the realms above,
On their brows, from Eden, bringing
Wreaths of Hope and Love.
Hark, their hymns of glory pealing
Thro' the air,
To mortal ears revealing
Who lies there!
In that dwelling, dark and lowly,
Sleeps the Heavenly Son,
He, whose home's above,—the Holy,
Ever Holy One!