"Love in Idleness."
THE REDBREAST.
In country lanes the robins sing,
Clear-throated, joyous, swift of wing,
From misty dawn to dewy eve
(Though cares of nesting vex and grieve)
Their little heart-bells ring and ring.
And when the roses say to Spring:
"Your reign is o'er" when breezes bring
The scent of spray that lovers weave
In country lanes,
The redbreast still is heard to fling
His music forth; and he will cling
To Autumn till the winds bereave
Her yellowing trees, nor will he leave
Till Winter finds him shivering
In country lanes.
C. H. Lüders.
TO Q(uintus) H(oratius) F(laccus).
To Q. H. F. the idle band
Of poetasters oft has planned
Tributes of praise—and penned them, too—
For love of verse that keeps its hue
Though dead its language and its land.
True, Pegasus has ever fanned
The ether at a bard's command,
But ah! how eagerly he flew
To Q. H. F.