3. And when the spring comes with her host Of flowers, that flower beloved the most Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse Her heavenly odour and virgin hues. 4. Pluck the others, but still remember The morning star of all the flowers, The virgin, virgin Violet. He drinks-but what's drinking? A mere pause from thinking! No bugle awakes him with life-and-death-call. CHOR But the hound bayeth loudly, The Boar's in the wood. And the Falcon longs proudly To spring from her hood: On the wrist of the Noble She sits like a crest, And the air is in trouble With birds from their nest. CESAR. Oh! Shadow of glory! Dim image of war! But the chace hath no story, Her hero no star, Since Nimrod, the Founder Of empire and chace, Who made the woods wonder And quake for their race. When the Lion was young, In the pride of his might, Then 'twas sport for the strong To embrace him in fight; To go forth, with a pine For a spear, 'gainst the Mammoth, At the foaming Behemoth; While man was in stature As towers in our time, The first born of nature, And, like her, sublime! CHORUS. But the wars are over, The spring is come; The bride and her lover Have sought their home; They are happy, and we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo from every voice! [Exeunt the Peasantry, singing. THE END. LONDON': PRINTED BY C. H. REYNELL, BROAD-STREET, GOLDEN-SQUARE. NOTICE TO THE BINDER. [In order that each purchaser of the two concluding volumes of Lord Byron's Works may be enabled with them to complete his particular set, whatever edition he possesses, an extra Title-page is given with each— there being several editions in print, comprising the same works in different numbers of volumes. In binding these two last volumes, therefore, the binder should be instructed which of the Title pages to retain.] |