Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/399

 Do not then wind up that light In ribbands, and o'ercloud in night, Like the Sun in's early ray; But shake your head, and scatter day!

347. The Grasshopper

O thou that swing'st upon the waving hair Of some well-fillèd oaten beard, Drunk every night with a delicious tear Dropt thee from heaven, where thou wert rear'd!

The joys of earth and air are thine entire, That with thy feet and wings dost hop and fly; And when thy poppy works, thou dost retire To thy carved acorn-bed to lie.

Up with the day, the Sun thou welcom'st then, Sport'st in the gilt plaits of his beams, And all these merry days mak'st merry men, Thyself, and melancholy streams.

348. To Althea, from Prison

When Love with unconfinèd wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair And fetter'd to her eye, The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.

When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames,