And the stys that are drear."

And unrolleth a scroll.

To the cheek by jowl:

Whom Time in his fleetings

From his people, with greetings:

We are weary of women and song!

And bear us sober along!"

With merriment ringeth,

The revellers singeth:

(A Song)

How they clink as we drink!

Too pleasant to think.

(The Orator)

Sweet sorrow is scorned for her weeds.

And chant us thine anthem of deeds!"

(The Revellers)[Pg 69]

[Pg 69]

Another as deep,

Too pleasant to weep.

(The Orator)

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