'Gainst the unvanquished solid land.--
With a garland of mirth is aye crown'd.
THE bed of flowers
Ripen, and more speedily!O'er ye broods the sun at evenAs he sinks to rest, and heaven
As, in some changeable dream, yesterday blends with to-day.
1767-9.-----THE WEDDING NIGHT.
Remember then: ERGO BIBAMUS!In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word,With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirr'd,And an echo the festal hall filling is heard,
Yet know I her sister,The older, sedater,Mine own silent friend;Oh, may she never,Till life's lamp is quench'd,Turn away from me,--That noble inciter,Comforter,--Hope!
For the third time the mother impatiently enter'd the chamberWhere the men were sitting, which she had anxiously quitted,Speaking of the approaching storm, and the loss of the moon's light,Then of her son's long absence, and all the perils that night brings.Strongly she censured their friends for having so soon left the youngster,For not even addressing the maiden, or seeking to woo her.
Through the fields her clear notes rang:So, Ia, Ia! le ralla, &c.