Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves THE GARLAND. THE pride of every grove I chose, At morn the nymph vouchsafed to place Upon her brow the various wreath; The flowers less blooming than her face, The scent less fragrant than her breath, The flowers she wore along the day, And every nymph and shepherd said, That in her hair they look'd more gay Than glowing in their native bed. Undress'd at evening, when she found Their odours lost, their colours past, She changed her look, and on the ground Her garland and her eyes she cast. That eye dropp'd sense distinct and clear As any Muse's tongue could speak, When from its lid a pearly tear Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek. Dissembling what I knew too well, 'My love, my life,' said I,' explain This change of humour; prithee tell, That falling tear-what does it mean?' She sigh'd, she smiled; and to the flowers Pointing, the lovely moralist said, 'See, friend, in some few fleeting hours, See yonder what a change is made. 'Ah me! the blooming pride of May Both fade at evening, pale, and gone. 'At dawn poor Stella danced and sung, The amorous youth around her bow'd; At night her fatal knell was rung; I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud. Such as she is who died to-day, Such I, alas! may be to-morrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display The justice of thy Chloe's sorrow.' PROTOGENES AND APELLES. WHEN poets wrote and painters drew Ere Gothic forms were known in Greece, Lived there, a burgess, scot and lot; Agreed these points of time and place, Prepared to censure or commend; 'Does squire Protogenes live here?' 'Yes, sir,' says she, with gracious air And curtsy low, but just call'd out By lords peculiarly devout, Who came on purpose, sir, to borrow The most renown'd throughout all Greece; Tea, says a critic, big with laughter, 'And, sir, at present would you please To leave your name?'- Fair maiden, yes. Reach me that board.' No sooner spoke But done. With one judicious stroke, On the plain ground Apelles drew A circle regularly true. 'And will you please, sweetheart,' said he, How painters write their names at Co.' |