Idlesse

All which my daies I haue not lewdly spent, Nor spilt the blossome of my tender yeares In ydlesse.

A maiden was seated apart from her companion, the very flowers scattered neglected by her side; but it was obvious that idlesse—that first sweet symptom of love—was pleasanter than her graceful task; for the colour was rich upon her cheek, and the smile parted her scarce conscious lips.

Next a lover, with a dream ’Neath his waking eyelids hidden; And a frequent sigh unbidden' And an idlesse all the day Beside a wandering stream;