CHRISTMAS. HENCE, Summer, indolently laid Thirst and faint Fatigue retreat! Come, CHRISTMAS! father Thou of Mirth, Patron of the festive hearth, Around whose social evʼning flame The jovial song, the winter game, The chase renew'd in merry tale, The season's carols never fail. Where Frost arrests the harden'd tide, Who, ere the misty morn is grey, How does my eager bosom glow Or, if the blast of Winter keen Where, thro' the pheasant-haunted brake Oft as the well-aim'd gun resounds, For thee of buck my breeches tight, Clanging whip, and rowels bright, The hunter's cap my brows to guard, And suit of sportive green 's prepar'd: For, since these delights are thine, CHRISTMAS, with thy bands I join. FREE IMITATION OF A LATIN ODE, BY WALTER DE MAPES, ARCHDEACON OF OXFORD IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY. I. I'LL in a tavern end my days 'Midst boon companions merry, Place at my lips a lusty flask Replete with sparkling sherry, That angels hov'ring round may cry, When I lie dead as door-nail : "Rise, genial Deacon, rise and drink "Of the well of Life Eternal." CANTILENA. I. MIHI est propositum in tabernâ mori, Vinum sit appositum morientis ori, Ut dicant, cùm venerint Angelorum chori: II. "Tis wine the fading lamp of life Renews with flame celestial, And elevates th' enraptur'd sense Above this globe terrestrial: Be mine the grape's pure juice, unmix'd With any base ingredient! Water to heretics I leave, Sound churchmen have no need on't. CANTILENA. II. Poculis accenditur animi lucerna ; Mihi sapit dulcius vinum in tabernâ Quàm quod aquâ miscuit præsulis Pincerna. |