The breezes whispering round thy dwelling-place
Shall carry thy lament unto the King.
XL
The margin of a stream, the willow’s shade,
A mind inclined to song, a mistress sweet,
A Cup-bearer whose cheek outshines the rose,
A friend upon whose heart thy heart is laid:
Oh Happy-starred! let not thine hours fleet
Unvalued; may each minute as it goes
Lay tribute of enjoyment at thy feet,