Venus, story of placing ring on brazen, statue of this goddess, 139. Virgin, the, story of placing ring on finger of statue, 141. W. Walpole’s poesy upon a ring, 63. Warsaw, matrons of, give their wedding-rings to be coined in aid of the Polish struggle, 190. Warts, taken away by ring touching them, 132. Warwick, Sir Philip, intrusted with use of the ring of Charles I., 178. Washington bequeathed rings, 229. Wedding-ring touching wart to take it away, 132; rubbing on “sty” to cure it, _ib._; Grecian and Roman wedding-rings, 195, 196; gold-wire rings given away at weddings, 213, 215; ancient silver ring, 220. Whistle connected with a ring, 38. Wire rings of gold given away at weddings, 213. Wound cured by touch of ring, 133. Y. York, Cardinal, his bequest of the ring used by kings of Scotland on their coronation, 188. FOOTNOTES: [1] The poem from which this stanza is taken has now become so scarce, and is so pleasing, that we are induced to insert it in this note: TO THE IDOL OF MINE EYES AND THE DELIGHT OF MINE HEART, ANNE HATHAWAY. Would ye be taught, ye feathered throng, With love’s sweet notes to grace your song, To pierce the heart with thrilling lay, Listen to mine Anne Hathaway! She _hath a way_ to sing so clear, Phœbus might wond’ring stop to hear; To melt the sad, make blithe the gay, And nature charm, Anne _hath a way_: She _hath a way_, Anne Hathaway, To breathe delight Anne _hath a way_. When envy’s breath and rancorous tooth Do soil and bite fair worth and truth, And merit to distress betray, To soothe the heart Anne _hath a way_; She _hath a way_ to chase despair, To heal all grief, to cure all care, Turn foulest night to fairest day: Thou know’st, fond heart, Anne _hath a way_, She _hath a way_, Anne Hathaway, To make grief bliss Anne _hath a way_. Talk not of gems, the orient list, The diamond, topaz, amethyst, The emerald mild, the ruby gay: Talk of my gem, Anne Hathaway! She _hath a way_, with her bright eye, Their various lustre to defy, The jewel she and the foil they, So sweet to look Anne _hath a way_. She _hath a way_, Anne Hathaway, To shame bright gems, Anne _hath a way_. But were it to my fancy given To rate her charms, I’d call them Heaven; For though a mortal made of clay, Angels must love Anne Hathaway. She _hath a way_ so to control To rapture the imprisoned soul, And sweetest Heaven on earth display, That to be Heaven Anne _hath a way_! She _hath a way_, Anne Hathaway, To be Heaven’s self Anne _hath a way_. [2] Chambers’s Miscellany, vol. xv., No. 132. [3] Layard’s Nineveh, ii. 318.