And daffodillies cool, and violets blue.
MELEAGER
It’s oh! to be a wild wind—when my lady’s in the sun—
She’d just unbind her neckerchief and take me breathing in,
It’s oh! to be a red rose—just a faintly blushing one—
So she’d pull me with her hand and to her snowy breast I’d win.
PLATO TO ASTER
Thou gazest on the stars—a star to me
Thou[6] art—but oh! that I the heavens might be
And with a thousand eyes still gaze on thee!