Music, The Mosaic Of The Air.

Annihilating All That's Made, To A Green Thought In A Green Shade.

This Indigested Vomit Of The Sea,fell To The Dutch By Just Propriety.

I Have A Garden Of My Own, But So With Roses Overgrown, And Lilies, That You Would It Guess To Be A Little Wilderness.

Now Therefore, While The Youthful Hue Sits On Thy Skin Like Morning Dew, And While Thy Willing Soul Transpires At Every Pore With Instant Fires Now Let Us Sport Us While We May, And Now, Like Amorous Birds Of Prey, Rather At Once Our Time Devour Than Languish In His Slow-chapped Power. Let Us Roll Our Strength And All Our Sweetness Up Into One Ball And Tear Our Pleasures With Rough Strife Through The Iron Gates Of Life: Thus, While We Cannot Make Our Sun Stand Still, Yet We Will Make Him Run.

What Wondrous Life Is This I Lead! Ripe Apples Drop About My Head.