May Day with the Muses by Robert Bloomfield (100 best novels of all time .txt) 📕

high-wrought soul, and mould it into peace.
"These pastoral notes some victor's ear may fill,
"Breathed amidst blossoms, where the drum is still:
"I purpose then to send them forth to try
"The public patience, or its apathy.
"The world shall see them; why should I refrain?
"'Tis all the produce of my own domain.
"Farewell!" he said, then took his lady's arm,
On his shrunk hand her starting tears fell warm;
Again he turn'd to view the happy crowd,
And cried, "Good night, good night, good night," aloud,
"Health to you all! for see, the evening closes,"
Then march'd to rest, beneath his crown of roses.
"Happy old man! with feelings such as these,
"The seasons all can charm, and trifles please."
An instantaneous shout re-echoed round,
'Twas wine and gratitude inspired the sound:
Some joyous souls resumed the dance again,
The aged loiter'd o'er the homeward plain,
And scatter'd lovers rambled through the park,
And breathed their vows of honour in the dark;
Others a festal harmony preferr'd,
Still round the thorn the jovial song was heard;
Dance, rhymes, and fame, they scorn'd such things as these,
But drain'd the mouldy barrel to its lees,
As if 'twere worse than shame to want repose:
Nor was the lawn clear till the moon arose,
And on each turret pour'd a brilliant gleam
Of modest light, that trembled on the stream;
The owl awoke, but dared not yet complain,
And banish'd silence re-assumed her reign.


THE END.
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Publication Date: 09-09-2010

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