Part 31

Not rend off, but cut off ripe bean with a knife, For hindering stalk of her vegetive life. So gather the lowest, and leaving the top, Shall teach thee a trick for to double thy crop.

Tusser.

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A shower of rain in July, when the corn begins to fill, Is worth a plough of oxen, and all belongs theretill.

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ST. SWITHUN. (July 15th.)

Saint Swithun's Day, if thou dost rain, For forty days it will remain; Saint Swithun's Day, if thou be fair, For forty days 'twill rain na mair.

Scotland.

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St. Swithun christens the apples.

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No tempest good July, Lest the corn look ruely.

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While wormwood hath seed, get a handful or twain, To save against March, to make flea to refrain: Where chamber is sweepid, and wormwood is strown, No flea for his life, dare abide to be known.

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THE FLOWER GIRL.

Come buy, come buy my mystic flowers, All ranged with due consideration, And culled in fancy's fairy bowers, To suit each age and every station.

For those who late in life would tarry, I've snowdrops, winter's children cold; And those who seek for wealth to marry, May buy the flaunting marigold.

I've ragwort, ragged robins, too, Cheap flowers for those of low condition; For bachelors I've buttons blue; And crown imperials for ambition.

For sportsmen keen, who range the lea, I've pheasant's eye and sprigs of heather; For courtiers with the supple knee, I've parasites and prince's feather.

For thin tall fops I keep the rush, For peasants still am nightshade weeding; For rakes I've devil-in-the-bush, For sighing strephons, loves-lies-bleeding.

But fairest blooms affection's hand For constancy and worth disposes, And gladly weaves at your command A wreath of amaranths and roses.

Mrs. Corbold.

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LONDON STREET-CALL. (About 200 years old.)

Will you buy, lady, buy My sweet blooming lavender? There are sixteen blue branches a penny. You will buy it once, you will buy it twice, It makes your clothes smell so very nice. It will scent your pocket-handkerchief, And it will scent your clothes as well. Now is your time, and do not delay: Come and buy your lavender, All fresh cut from Mitcham every day.

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I do not want change: I want the same old and loved things, the same wild flowers, the same trees and soft ash-green; the turtle doves, the blackbirds, the coloured yellow-hammer sing, sing, singing so long as there is light to cast a shadow on the dial, for such is the measure of his song, and I want them in the same place.