As Lines, So Loves Oblique, May Well

No White Nor Red Was Ever Seen So Am'rous As This Lovely Green. Fond Lovers, Cruel As Their Flame, Cut In These Trees Their Mistress' Name. Little, Alas, They Know Or Heed How Far These Beauties Hers Exceed! Fair Trees! Where S'e'er Your Barks I Wound, No Name Shall But Your Own Be Found.

Music, The Mosaic Of The Air.

And All The Way, To Guide Their Chime, With Falling Oars They Kept Their Time.

Self-preservation, Nature's First Great Law, All The Creatures, Except Man, Doth Awe.

Gather The Flowers, But Spare The Buds.