Here the Currans red and white

Her steps with such an evenness she wove, As shee could hardly be perceiv’d to move.

Hark how the Lyrick Choristers o’ th’ wood Warble their cheerful notes! which understood Would make us think they woo’d and spake In pure Tibullus phrase, when he did take His Lesbia to him!

I’l have a young plump amorous Queen, Ripe though she be not yet fifteen. ’Twixt whose close arms and snowie breast I may diffuse my heat, and rest.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.

What great Effects from slender Causes flow!