Part 2 — MY SWEETHEART.

Do you know my sweetheart, sir? She has fled and gone away. I've lost my love; pray tell to me Have you seen her pass to-day? Dewy bluebells are her eyes; Golden corn her waving hair; Her cheeks are of the sweet blush-roses: Have you seen this maiden fair? White lilies are her neck, sir; And her breath the eglantine; Her rosy lips the red carnations: Such is she, this maiden mine. The light wind is her laughter; The murmuring brooks her song; Her tears, so full of tender pity, In the clouds are borne along. The sunbeams are her smiles; The leaves her footsteps light; To kiss each coy flower into life Is my true love's delight. I will tell ye who she is, And how all things become her. Bend down, that I may whisper My sweetheart's name is—'Summer.' T. P.