My mistress, I espouse thee for my tree:
Be thou the prize of honour and renown;
The deathless poet and the poem crown.
Thou shalt the Roman festivals adorn,
And after poets, be by victors won.
Thou shalt returning Cæsar’s triumph grace
When pomps shall in a long procession pass;
Wreath’d on the posts before his palace wait;
And be the sacred guardian of the gate,
Secure from thunder, and unharmed by Jove,