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She will mix these pleasures up
Like three fit wines in a cup,

And thou shalt quaff it :-thou shalt hear
Distant harvest-carols clear;

Rustle of the reaped corn;
Sweet birds antheming the morn;
And, in the same moment-hark!
'T is the early April lark,
Or the rooks, with busy caw,
Foraging for sticks and straw.
Thou shalt, at one glance, behold
The daisy and the marigold;
White-plumed lilies, and the first
Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;
Shaded hyacinth, alway
Sapphire queen of the mid May;
And every leaf and every flower
Pearled with the self-same shower.
Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep
Meagre from its celled sleep;
And the snake all winter-thin
Cast on sunny bank its skin;
Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see
Hatching in the hawthorn-tree,
When the hen-bird's wing doth rest
Quiet on her mossy nest;

Then the hurry and alarm
When the bee-hive casts its swarm;
Acorns ripe down-pattering,
While the autumn breezes sing.

Oh, sweet Fancy! let her loose; Every thing is spoilt by use:

KEATS.

Where's the cheek that doth not fade,
Too much gazed at? Where's the maid
Whose lip mature is ever new?
Where 's the eye, however blue,
Doth not weary? Where's the face
One would meet in every place?
Where's the voice, however soft,
One would hear so very oft?
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth.
Let, then, winged Fancy find
Thee a mistress to thy mind:
Dulcet-eyed as Ceres' daughter,
Ere the God of Torment taught her
How to frown and how to chide;
With a waist and with a side
White as Hebe's, when her zone
Slipt its golden clasp, and down
Fell her kirtle to her feet,

While she held the goblet sweet,

And Jove grew languid.—Break the mesh

Of the Fancy's silken leash;

Quickly break her prison-string,

And such joys as these she 'll bring.—
Let the winged Fancy roam,

Pleasure never is at home.

337

KEATS.

The Procession of the Months.

THE Months all riding came;

First sturdy March, with brows full sternly bent, And armed strongly, rode upon a ram, The same which over Hellespontus swam ; Yet in his hand a spade he also hent, And in a bag all sorts of seeds ysame, Which on the earth he strowed as he went, And filled her womb with fruitful hope of nourishment.

Next came fresh April, full of lustyhead,

And wanton as a kid whose horn new buds; Upon a bull he rode, the same which led Europa floating through th' Argolick floods; His horns were gilden all with golden studs, And garnished with garlands goodly dight Of all the fairest flowers and freshest buds Which th' earth brings forth, and wet he seemed in sight With waves, through which he waded for his love's delight.

Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground, Decked all with dainties of her season's pride, And throwing flowers out of her lap around; Upon two brethren's shoulders she did ride, The Twins of Leda, which on either side Supported her like to their sovereign queen; Lord! how all creatures laughed when her they spied, And leapt and danced as they had ravished been! And Cupid self about her fluttered all in green.

SPENSER.

And after her came jolly June, arrayed
All in green leaves, as he a player were,
Yet in his time he wrought as well as played,
That by his plough-irons mote right well appear;
Upon a crab he rode, that him did bear

With crooked crawling steps an uncouth pace,
And backward yode as bargemen wont to fare,
Bending their force contrary to their face;
Like that ungracious crew which feigns demurest grace.

Then came hot July, boiling like to fire,
That all his garments he had cast away;
Upon a lion raging yet with ire
He boldly rode, and made him to obey;
It was the beast that whilome did foray
The Nemean forest, till th' Amphytrionide
Him slew, and with his hide did him array;
Behind his back a scythe, and by his side,
Under his belt, he bore a sickle circling wide.

The sixth was August, being rich arrayed
In garment all of gold down to the ground;
Yet rode he not, but led a lovely Maid
Forth by the lily hand, the which was crowned
With ears of corn, and full her hand was found;
That was the righteous Virgin, which of old
Lived here on earth, and plenty made abound,
But after wrong was loved and justice sold,

She left th' unrighteous world, and was to heaven extolled.

Next him September marched, eke on foot;
Yet was he heavy laden with the spoil

Of harvest's riches, which he made his boot,

339

And him enriched with bounty of the soil;
In his one hand, as fit for harvest's toil,
He held a knife-hook, and in the other hand
A pair of weights, with which he did assoil

Both more and less, where it in doubt did stand, And equal gave to each as justice duly scanned.

Then came October, full of merry glee, For yet his noule was totty of the must, Which he was treading in the wine-vat's sea, And of the joyous oil, whose gentle gust Made him so frolic and so full of lust; Upon a dreadful scorpion he did ride, The same which by Diana's doom unjust Slew great Orion; and, eke by his side He had his ploughing-share and coulter ready tied.

Next was November; he full gross and fat,
As fed with lard, and that right well might seem,
For he had been a fatting hogs of late,

That yet his brows with sweat did reek and steam,
And yet the season was full sharp and breem;
In planting eke he took no small delight;
Whereon he rode, not easy was to deem,
For it a dreadful Centaur was in sight,
The seed of Centaur and fair Nais, Chiron hight.

And after him came next the chill December,
Yet he, through merry feasting which he made,
And great bonfires, did not the cold remember,
His Saviour's birth so much his mind did glad;
Upon a shaggy, bearded Goat he rode,
The same wherewith Dan Jove in tender years,

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