Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/804

 If there were dreams to sell, Merry and sad to tell, And the crier rang the bell, What would you buy?

A cottage lone and still, With bowers nigh, Shadowy, my woes to still, Until I die. Such pearl from Life's fresh crown Fain would I shake me down. Were dreams to have at will, This would best heal my ill, This would I buy.

668. Song

How many times do I love thee, dear? Tell me how many thoughts there be         In the atmosphere Of a new-fall'n year, Whose white and sable hours appear The latest flake of Eternity: So many times do I love thee, dear.

How many times do I love again? Tell me how many beads there are In a silver chain Of evening rain, Unravell'd from the tumbling main, And threading the eye of a yellow star: So many times do I love again.