LXXXIV. "And sends full soon a tender-hearted hind, Who, wond'ring at our loud unusual note, LXXXV. "Witness his goodly vessels on the Thames, Whose holds were fraught with costly merchandise,Jewels from Ind, and pearls for courtly dames, And gorgeous silks that Samarcand supplies: Witness that Royal Bourse he bade arise, The mart of merchants from the East and West; Whose slender summit, pointing to the skies, Still bears, in token of his grateful breast, The tender grasshopper, his chosen crest LXXXVI. "The tender grasshopper, his chosen crest, That, like a mote, shines in the smile of mirth : Enough there is of joy's decrease and dearth! -- LXXXVII. Enough of pleasure, and delight, and beauty, Too many a lovely race raz'd quite away, Hath left large gaps in life and human loving: Here then begin thy cruel war to stay, And spare fresh sighs, and tears, and groans, reproving LXXXVIII. Now here I heard a shrill and sudden cry, Grappling with Time, who clutch'd him like a fly, Victim of his own sport, - the jester's luck! He, whilst his fellows griev'd, poor wight, had stuck His freakish gauds upon the Ancient's brow, And now his ear, and now his beard, would pluck ; Whereas the angry churl had snatch'd him now, Crying, "Thou impish mischief, who art thou ?" LXXXIX. "Alas!" quoth Puck, a little random elf, Born in the sport of nature, like a weed, XC. ""Tis we that bob the angler's idle cork, Till e'en the patient man breathes half a curse ; We change, some mothers say, the child at nurse; We have not wit enough, and scarce the will. XCI. "We never let the canker melancholy To gather on our faces like a rust, But gloss our features with some change of folly, Taking life's fabled miseries on trust, But only sorrowing when sorrow must : We ruminate no sage's solemn cud, But own ourselves a pinch of lively dust To frisk upon a wind, whereas the flood Of tears would turn us into heavy mud. XCII. "Beshrew those sad interpreters of nature, Who gloze her lively universal law, As if she had not form'd our cheerful feature To be so tickled with the slightest straw! So let them vex their mumping mouths, and draw The corners downward, like a wat❜ry moon, And deal in gusty sighs and rainy flaw We will not woo foul weather all too soon, ХСЦІ. "For ours are winging sprites, like any bird, |