The applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes.

What female heart can gold despise? What cat 's averse to fish?

If the best man's faults were written on his forehead, he would draw his hat over his eyes.

Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed.

Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er, Scatters from her pictured urn Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

We frolic while 'tis May.