FLORA AND THALIA. 29 



The poets fabled in the golden age : 

 Quick let me strip thee of thy tufty coat, 

 Spread thy ambrosial store, and feast with Jove. 



THOMSON. 



SUMMER MORNING. 



Awake ! the morning shines, and the fresh fields 

 Call you : ye lose the prime to mark how spring 

 The tender plants ; how blows the citron grove ; 

 What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed ; 

 How Nature paints her colours ; how the bee 

 Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweets. 



MILTON. 



INVITATION TO SOLITUDE. 



But when the sun 



Shakes from his noon-day throne the scatt'ring 



clouds, 

 E'en shooting listless languor through the deeps; 

 Then seek the bank where flow'ring elders crowd ; 

 Where, scatter'd wild, the lily of the vale 

 Its balmy essence breathes ; where cowslips hang 

 The dewy head ; where purple violets lurk 

 With all the lowly children of the shade ; 



