TU LOVE HAS EYES 



His spacious garden made to yield to none, 

 Was compass'd round with walls of solid stone; 

 Priapus could not half describe the grace 

 (Tho' God of gardens) of this charming place: 

 A place to fire the rambling wits of France 

 In long descriptions, and exceed Romance ; 

 Enough to shame the gentlest bard that sings 

 Of painted meadows, and of purling springs, 

 Full in the centre of the flow'ry ground, 

 A crystal fountain spread its streams around, 

 The fruitful banks with verdant laurels crown'd : 

 About this spring (if ancient fame say true) 

 The dapper Elves their moonlight sports pursue: 

 Their pigmy king, and little fairy queen, 

 In circling dances gamboll'd on the green, 

 While tuneful sprites a merry concert made, 

 And airy music warbled thro' the glade. 

 ALEXANDER POPE. 



January and May. 



Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers 

 Plucked in the garden, all the summer through 

 And winter, and it seemed as if they grew 

 In this close room, nor missed the sun and 

 showers, 



[81] 



