Welcome as the flowers in May.
Art thou a friend to Roderick?
True love's the gift which God has given to man alone beneath the heaven.
Land of my sires! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand!
"Lambe them, lads! lambe them!" a cant phrase of the time derived from the fate of Dr. Lambe, an astrologer and quack, who was knocked on the head by the rabble in Charles the First's time.
In listening mood she seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand.