Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/933

 EBENE2ER JONES

Where the dance is sweeping, Through the greensward peeping,

Shall the soft lights start; Laughing maids, unstaying, Deeming it trick-playing, High their robes upswaying,

O'er the lights shall dart; And the woodland haunter Shall not cease to saunter

When, far down some glade, Of the great world's burning, One soft flame upturning Seems, to his dit-ccrning,

Crocus in the shade.

��ANONYMOUS

755 Epta'ph of Dionysia

HERE doth Dionysia lie: She whose little wanton foot Tripping (ah, too carelessly')

Touch'd this tomb and fell into 't.

��Dionysia, o'er this tomb,

Where thy buried beauties be,

From their dust shall spring and bloom Loves and graces like to thee.

�� �