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Poems and Translations

by W. J. Linton

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43

HAPPENING.

Last evening, carrying home my gift
Of fresh wild fruit in cool leaf laid,
I met the little neighbour maid;
And my ripe offering went adrift.
I hear of others. So they take—
These fair young thieves, the dues of Eld.
How may such larcenies be quell'd?
Tell me, some Matron! for love's sake.