_A LOST CHILD._ YE CRYER. _Here’s a reward for who’ll find Love! Love is a-straying Ever since Maying; Hither and yon, below, above, All are seeking Love!_ YE HAND-BILL. _Gone astray_—between the Maying And the gathering of the hay, _Love_, an urchin ever playing— Folk are warned against his play. How may you know him? by the quiver, By the bow he’s wont to bear. First on your left there comes a shiver, Then a twinge—the arrow’s there. By his eye of pansy colour, Deep as wounds he dealeth free; If its hue have faded duller, ’Tis not that he weeps for me. By the smile that curls his mouthlet; By the mockery of his sigh; By his breath, a spicy South, let Slip his lips of roses by. By the devil in his dimple; By his lies that sound so true; By his shaft-string, that no simple Ever culled will heal for you. By his beckonings that embolden; By his quick withdrawings then; By his flying hair, a golden Light to lure the feet of men. By the breast where ne’er a hurt’ll Rankle ’neath his kerchief hid— _What?_ you cry; _he wore a kirtle?_ Faith! methinks the rascal did! _Here’s a reward for who’ll find Love! Love is a-straying Ever since Maying; Hither and you, below, above, I am seeking Love._ ye Finder pray’d to Bring her to Master Corydon, _Petticoat Lane_. CRYER: H. BUNNER, GRUB STREET, CRY’S WEDDINGS, BURYINGS, LOFT CHILDN, AND RIGHT CHEAPLIE. YE IID. KNOCKER. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _AMONG THE SPIRITS._