Thus I sprinkle on thy breast Thrice upon thy rubied lip; Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, I touch with chaste palms moist and cold; And I must haste, ere morning hour, To wait in Amphitrite's bower. (Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.) WHAT WONDROUS LIFE IS THIS I LEAD? From THOUGHTS IN A GARDEN ANDREW MARVELL 'HAT wondrous life is this I lead? W Ripe apples drop about my head; Here at the fountain's sliding foot THE TRUMPET'S LOUD CLANGOR From A SONG FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY JOHN DRYDEN THE trumpet's loud clangour THE Excites us to arms With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double, double, double beat Cries, "Hark! the foes come; The soft complaining flute In dying notes discovers The woes of hopeless lovers, Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute. But, oh! what art can teach, The sacred organ's praise? Notes inspiring holy love, Notes that wing their heavenly ways To mend the choirs above. ODE ON SOLITUDE ALEXANDER POPE APPY the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, In winter fire. Blest, who can unconcernedly find Quiet by day, Sound sleep by night; study and ease, With meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. MY PEGGY From THE GENTLE SHEPHERD ALLAN RAMSAY Y Peggy is a young thing, Yet well I like to meet her at My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, I wish nae mair to lay my care, rare, My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, My Peggy smiles sae kindly, That I look down on a' the town, |