Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: Ask not what future suns shall bring. Count to-day gain, whatever it chance To be: nor, young man, scorn the dance, Nor deem sweet Love an idle thing, Ere time thy April youth hath changed To sourness. Park and public walk Attract thee now, and whispered talk At twilight meetings pre-arranged; Hear now the pretty laugh that tells In what dim corner lurks thy love; And snatch a bracelet or a glove From wrist or hand that scarce rebels. ODE 11. To Leuconoe. SEEK not, for thou shalt not find it, what my end, what thine shall be; Ask not of Chaldaea's science what God wills, Leuconoe: Better far, what comes, to bear it. Haply many a wintry blast Waits thee still; and this, it may be, Jove ordains to be thy last, Which flings now the flagging sea-wave on the obstinate sandstone-reef. Be thou wise: fill up the wine-cup; shortening, since the time is brief, Hopes that reach into the future. While I speak, hath stol'n awa,y Jealous Time. Mistrust To-morrow, catch the blossom of To-day. ODE 14. To A Ship. ET on fresh billows seaward wilt thou ride, O Ship? What dost thou? Seek a hav'n, and there Rest thee : for lo ! thy side Is oarless all and bare, And the swift south-west wind hath maimed thy mast, And thy yards creak, and, every cable lost, Yield must thy keel at last On tyrannous sea-waves tossed Too rudely. Goodly canvas is not thine, Nor gods, to hear thee when thy need is sorest: True, thoua Pontic pine, Child of a stately forest Boast'st rank and empty name : but little trust The frightened seamen in a painted stern. Stayor be mocked thou must By every wind in turn. Fleewhat of late sore burden was to me, Now a sad memory and a bitter pain, Those shining Cyclads flee, That stud the far-o...