Peace to the slumbers of each folded flower—
May the rose call back its true colour soon!
Good hours of fair cheeks are the fairest tinters,
And lower the price of rouge—at least some winters.
Lord Byron.
GREEDINESS PUNISHED
IT was the cloister Grabow, in the land of Usedom;
For years had God’s free goodness to fill its larder come:
They might have been contented!
Along the shore came swimming, to give the monks good cheer