Page:Cherrie and the slae.pdf/16

 4 THE CHERRIE VI. To pen the pleasures of that park, How every blossom, branch and bark, Against the sun did shyne, I pass to poets to compile, In high, heroic, stately stile, Whase MUSE surmatches myne. But as I looked myne alane, I saw a river rin Out owre a steepy rock of stane, Syne lighted in a lin, With tumbling and rumbling Amang the rocks around, Devalling and falling Into a pit profound. VII. Thro' routing of the river rang, The roches sounding like a sang, Where descant did abound, With treble, tenor, counter, mein, And Echo blew a base between, In diapason sound, Set with the C-Sol-Fa-Uth Clief, With lang and large at list, With quaver, crochet, semibrief, And not a minum mist : Compleatly mair sweetly She fired down, flat and sharp, Than Muses which uses To pin APOLLO's harp,