FROM BUCHANAN. HAPPY the man, who, in thy sparkling eyes, Still happier he! to who thy meanings roll, Half deity is he whom warm may press Circling thy waist and circled in thy arms, Who, melting on thy mutual melting breast, Entranc'd enjoys love's whole luxurious charms, Is all a god!--is of all heaven possest. ΤΟ Α NOSEGAY IN PANCHARILLA'S BOSOM. FROM BONEFONIUS. MUST you alone then, happy flow'rs— Ye short-liv'd sons of vernal show'rs, I should not so inactive lie; But ever wand'ring to and fro, From this to that fair globe of snow, And print on each ten thousand kisses. Which globe was softest, which most round; Which was the warmest, easiest bed, And which was tipp'd with purest red. Nor could I leave the beauteous scene, KISSES. FROM JOHANNES SECUNDUS. W HEN Venus in the sweet Idalian shade, A violet couch for young Ascanius made, Their opening gems th' obedient roses bow'd, And veil'd his beauties with a damask cloud; |