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Assemble all, convivial join, 



The sacred carpet* sell for wine. 



And while you feel the fanning breeze, 



Which whispers through the waving trees, 



Pray, that some damsel here may stray, 



Love the director of her way, 



And to her health and charms divine, 



Quaff goblets of enliv'ning wine. 



Is fortune cruel? Then go suit, 



To querulous complaint, the lute ; 



From the touched strings make music float, 



On air in soft melodious note. 



When first you see in fragrant bowers 



The Rose, resplendent Queen of Flowers! 



Then let the goblets brimful shine, 



With bright nectareous racy wine ! 



Wine can the tender pangs remove, 



And cause forgetfulness in love. 



The sweetly warbling Nightingale^ 



With melody fills every dale. 



How can she cease, sweet bird of Spring! 



'Mid budding Roses perch'd to sing?" 



* The Mahommedans prostrate themselves upon a carpet at the hour of prayer, hence held sacred. 



+ In the East, where every thing is, from the fervor of a lively imagination, painted in hieroglyphic characters, the return 

 of the Nightingale from Egypt to Persia, and the flowering of the Rose, as the characteristics of spring, gave rise most proba- 

 bly to the hybrid, so frequently described in Oriental poetry. 



Thus the sweet Nightingale in eastern bowers 

 On quivering pinion woos the Queen of Flowers; 

 Inhales her fragrance, as he hangs in air, 

 And melts with melody the blushing fair ;— 

 Half-rose, half-bird, a beauteous Monster springs, 

 Waves his thin leaves, and clasps his glossy wings. 

 Long horrent thorns his slender legs surround, 

 And tendril-talons root him to the ground; 

 Green films of rind his wrinkled neck o'erspread, 

 And crimson petals crown his curled head. 

 To the sweet Zephyrs soft warbling as they move 

 In songs of love he thrills the vocal grove. 

 Departing Evening stays her beamy star, 

 And still Night lingers in his ebon car; 

 While on white wings descending Houries throng, 

 And drink the floods of odour and of song. 



Darwin. 



Both the Swallow and Nightingale in the winter months retire to Egypt. Anacreon thus addresses the Swallow. 



ODE TO THE SWALLOW. 



Once in each revolving year, 

 Gentle bird! we find thee here. 

 When Nature wears her summer vest, 

 Thou com'st to weave thy simple nest; 

 But when the chilling winter lowers, 

 Again thou seek'st the genial bowers 

 Of Memphis, or the shores of Nile, 

 Where constant hours of verdure smile. 



