Beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive.
A good book is the precious lifeblood of a master spirit.
But see! theVirgin blessed Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious song should here have ending.
It were a journey like the path to heaven, To help you find them.
Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long drawn out.
Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.