And All The Way, To

How Could Such Sweet And Wholesome Hours Be Reckoned, But In Herbs And Flowers?

How Vainly Men Themselves Amaze To Win The Palm, The Oak, Or Bays; And Their Uncessant Labours See Crown'd From Some Single Herb Or Tree. Whose Short And Narrow Verged Shade Does Prudently Their Toils Upbraid; While All Flow'rs And All Trees Do Close To Weave The Garlands Of Repose.

No White Nor Red Was Ever Seen So Am'rous As This Lovely Green. Fond Lovers, Cruel As Their Flame, Cut In These Trees Their Mistress' Name. Little, Alas, They Know Or Heed How Far These Beauties Hers Exceed! Fair Trees! Where S'e'er Your Barks I Wound, No Name Shall But Your Own Be Found.

And Yonder All Before Us Lie Deserts Of Vast Eternity.

Now Let Us Sport Us While We May; And Now, Like Amorous Birds Of Prey, Rather At Once Our Time Devour, Than Languish In His Slow-chapped Power.