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Yet first too early warn'd, and then too late,He feels his flight restrain'd, is captur'd straightTo meet again is sweet, to part is sad,Again to meet again is still more glad,And years in one short moment are enshrin'd;But, oh, the harsh farewell is hid behind!

This dear soil, a sun like this,--Lures the best of women too.And the Muses' breathings blestRouse the maiden's gentle breast,Tune the throat to minstrelsy,And with cheeks of beauteous dye,Bid it sing a worthy song,Sit the sister-band among;And their strains grow softer still,As they vie with earnest will.