Now o'er that rock there hangs a tree, And chains do creak thereon; And in those chains his memory hangs, Though all beside is gone. LOVE'S RIDDLE "Unriddle this riddle, my own Jenny love, Unriddle this riddle for me, And if ye unriddle the riddle aright, A kiss your prize shall be, And if ye riddle the riddle all wrong, Ye're treble the debt to me: I'll give thee an apple without any core; I'll give thee a cherry where stones never be; I'll give thee a palace, without any door, And thou shalt unlock it without any key; I'll give thee a fortune that kings cannot give, Nor any one take from thee." "How can there be apples without any core? How can there be cherries where stones never be? How can there be houses without any door? Or doors I may open without any key? How can'st thou give fortunes that kings cannot give, When thou art no richer than me?" "My head is the apple without any core; In cherries in blossom no stones ever be; My mind is love's palace without any door, Which thou can'st unlock, love, without any key. My heart is the wealth, love, that kings cannot give, Nor any one take it from thee. So there are love's riddles, my own Jenny love, Ye cannot unriddle to me, And for the one kiss you've so easily lost I'll make ye give seven to me. To kiss thee is sweet, but 't is sweeter by far To be kissed, my dear Jenny, by thee. Come pay me the forfeit, my own Jenny love; Thy kisses and cheeks are akin, And for thy three sweet ones I'll give thee a score On thy cheeks, and thy lips, and thy chin." She laughed while he gave her, as much as to say, "'T were better to lose than to win." THE BANKS OF IVORY 'T was on the banks of Ivory, 'neath the hawthorn-scented shade, Early one summer's morning, I met a lovely maid; Her hair hung o'er her shoulders broad, her eyes like suns did shine, And on the banks of Ivory, O I wished the maid was mine. Her face it wore the beauty of heaven's own broken mould; The world's first charm seemed living still; her curls like hanks of gold Hung waving, and her eyes glittered timid as the dew, When by the banks of Ivory I swore I loved her true. "Kind sir," she said, "forsake me, while it is no pain to go, For often after kissing and such wooing there comes woe; And woman's heart is feeble; O I wish it were a stone; So by the banks of Ivory I'd rather walk alone. For learned seems your gallant speech, and noble is your trim, And thus to court an humble maid is just to please your whim; So go and seek some lady fair, as high in pedigree, Nor stoop so low by Ivory to flatter one like me." "In sooth, fair maid, you mock at me, for truth ne'er harboured ill; I will not wrong your purity; to love is all my will: My hall looks over yonder groves; its lady you shall be, For on the banks of Ivory I'm glad I met with thee."