On earth below, and air above.

In air the turtle fondly moans,

The linnet pipes in joyous tones:

On earth the postman toils along,

Bent double by huge bales of song.

Where, rich with many a gorgeous dye,

Blazes all Cupid’s heraldry—

Myrtles and roses, doves and sparrows,

Love-knots and altars, lamps and arrows.

What nymph without wild hopes and fears