Next turn we to the gay saloon

Next turn we to the gay saloon,
Resplendent as a summer noon,
Where, 'neath a pendent wreath of lights,
A Zodiac of flowers and tapers —
(Such as in Russian ball-rooms sheds
Its glory o'er young dancers' heads) —
Quadrille performs her mazy rites,
And reigns supreme o'er slides and capers: —
Working to death each opera strain,
As, with a foot that ne'er reposes,
She jigs thro' sacred and profane,

Summer Fête, The - Song

Smoothly flowing thro' verdant vales,
Gentle river, thy current runs,
Sheltered safe from winter gales,
Shaded cool from summer suns.
Thus our Youth's sweet moments glide.
Fenced with flowery shelter round;
No rude tempest wakes the tide,
All its path is fairy ground.

But, fair river, the day will come,
When, wooed by whispering groves in vain,
Thou 'lt leave those banks, thy shaded home,
To mingle with the stormy main.
And thou, sweet Youth, too soon wilt pass
Into the world's unsheltered sea,

Summer Fête, The - Part 4

Like pleasant thoughts that o'er the mind
A minute come and go again,
Even so by snatches in the wind,
Was caught and lost that choral strain,
Now full, now faint upon the ear,
As the bark floated far or near.
At length when, lost, the closing note
Had down the waters died along,
Forth from another fairy boat,
Freighted with music, came this song —

Summer Fête, The - Trio

Our home is on the sea, boy,
Our home is on the sea;
When Nature gave
The ocean-wave,
She markt it for the Free.
Whatever storms befall, boy,
Whatever storms befall,
The island bark
Is Freedom's ark,
And floats her safe thro' all.

Behold yon sea of isles, boy,
Behold yon sea of isles,
Where every shore
Is sparkling o'er
With Beauty's richest smiles.
For us hath Freedom claimed, boy,
For us hath Freedom claimed
Those ocean-nests
Where Valor rests

Summer Fête, The - Part 3

Now nearly fled was sunset's light,
Leaving but so much of its beam
As gave to objects, late so bright,
The coloring of a shadowy dream;
And there was still where Day had set
A flush that spoke him loath to die —
A last link of his glory yet,
Binding together earth and sky.
Say, why is it that twilight best
Becomes even brows the loveliest?
That dimness with its softening Touch

Summer Fête, The - Song

Some mortals there may be, so wise, or so fine,
As in evenings like this no enjoyment to see;
But, as I 'm not particular — wit, love, and wine,
Are for one night's amusement sufficient for me.
Nay — humble and strange as my tastes may appear —
If driven to the worst, I could manage, thank Heaven,
To put up with eyes such as beam round me here,
And such wine as we 're sipping, six days out of seven.
So pledge me a bumper — your sages profound

Summer Fête, The - Part 2

Now in his Palace of the West,
Sinking to slumber, the bright Day,
Like a tired monarch fanned to rest,
Mid the cool airs of Evening lay;
While round his couch's golden rim
The gaudy clouds, like courtiers, crept —
Struggling each other's light to dim,
And catch his last smile e'er he slept.
How gay, as o'er the gliding Thames
The golden eve its lustre poured,
Shone out the high-born knights and dames

Summer Fête, The - Song

Array thee, love, array thee, love,
In all thy best array thee;
The sun 's below — the moon 's above —
And Night and Bliss obey thee.
Put on thee all that's bright and rare,
The zone, the wreath, the gem.
Not so much gracing charms so fair,
As borrowing grace from them.
Array thee, love, array thee, love,
In all that's bright array thee;
The sun 's below — the moon 's above —

Summer Fête, The - Part 1

" WHERE are ye now, ye summer days,
" That once inspired the poet's lays?
" Blest time! ere England's nymphs and swains,
" For lack of sunbeams, took to coals —
" Summers of light, undimmed by rains,
" Whose only mocking trace remains
" In watering-pots and parasols. "

Thus spoke a young Patrician maid,
As, on the morning of that Fête
Which bards unborn shall celebrate,
She backward drew her curtain's shade,

Divine Comedy of Dante, The - Canto 32

CANTO XXXII.

Argument.

St. Bernard shows Dante the Saints of the Old and New Testament.

G AZING on that wherein his soul did take
Such deep delight, the Sage now freely there
Assumed the teacher's office, and thus spake
These holy words: " She whom thou seest so fair,
At Mary's feet, did open first the wound
By the Maid-mother heal'd. And seated, where

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