  AN ODE APPROPRIATE TO A FESTIVITYThe dew lies heavy all around, Nor, till the sun shines, leaves the ground. Far into night we feasting sit; We drink, and none his place may quit. The dew lies heavy, and its gems Stud the luxuriant, grassy stems. The happy night with wassail rings; So feasted here the former kings. The jujube and the willow-tree All fretted with the dew we see. Each guest's a prince of noble line, In whom the virtues all combine. The t‘ung and e their fruits display, Pendant from every graceful spray. My guests are joyous and serene, No haggard eye, no ruffled mien. |
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