I.

THE GREENWOOD TREE.

UNDER the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither! Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

2.

Who doth ambition shun,

And loves to lie in the sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither!

Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

William Shakespeare.

THE JOVIAL BEGGAR.

I. THERE was a jovial beggar,
He had a wooden leg,

Lame from his cradle

And forced for to beg.

And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,

And a-begging we will go.

2. A bag for his oatmeal,
Another for his salt,

And a long pair of crutches,
To show that he can halt.
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,

And a-begging we will go.

3. A bag for his wheat,
Another for his rye,

And a little bottle by his side,
To drink when he's a-dry.
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,

And a-begging we will go.

4. Seven years I begg'd,

For my old master Wilde,
He taught me how to beg
When I was but a child.
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,
And a-begging we will go.

5. I begged for my master, And got him store of pelf,

But goodness now be praised,
I'm begging for myself.
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,

And a-begging we will go.

6. In a hollow tree

I live, and pay no rent,
Providence provides for me,
And I am well content.
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,
And a-begging we will go.

7. Of all the occupations

A beggar's is the best,
For whenever he's aweary,

He can lay him down to rest.
And a-begging we will go,
Will go, will go,

And a-begging we will go.

8. I fear no plots against me, I live in open cell;

Then who would be a king, lads,

When the beggar lives so well?
And a-begging we will go,

Will go, will go,

And a-begging we will go.

Old Song.

PUCK AND THE FAIRY.

Puck. How now, spirit! whither wander you?
Fairy. Over hill, over dale,

Through bush, through brier,
Over park, over pale,

Through flood, through fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats, spots you see;
These be rubies, fairy favors,

In those freckles live their savors.
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:
queen and all her elves come here anon.
William Shakespeare.

Our

LADY-BIRD, LADY-BIRD.

1. LADY-BIRD, lady-bird! fly away home!
The field-mouse has gone to her nest,
The daisies have shut up their sleepy red eyes,
And the bees and the birds are at rest.

2. Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home!

The glow-worm is lighting her lamp,

The dew's falling fast, and your fine sper kled wings

Will flag with the close-clinging damp.

3. Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home!

Good luck if you reach it at last!

The owl's come abroad, and the bat's on the roam,

Sharp set from their Ramazan * fast.

4. Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! The fairy bells tinkle afar!

Make haste, or they'll catch you, and harness you fast

With a cobweb to Oberon's car.

5. Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home! To your house in the old willow-tree,

Where your children so dear have invited the

ant

And a few cozy neighbors to tea.

6. Lady-bird, lady-bird! fly away home!
And if not gobbled up by the way,
Nor yoked by the fairies to Oberon's car,
You're in luck!-and that's all I've to say!

Caroline B. Southey.

* Ramazan, the holy month of the Mohammedans, in which

they keep their lenten fast.