Ah, Happy Years! Once More Who Would

Let Not His Mode Of Raising Cash Seem Strange, Although He Fleeced The Flags Of Every Nation, For Into A Prime Minister But Change His Title, And 'tis Nothing But Taxation.

And Doubt And Discord Step 'twixt Thine And Thee.

The Music, And The Banquet, And The Wine-- The Garlands, The Rose Odors, And The Flowers, The Sparkling Eyes, And Flashing Ornaments-- The White Arms And The Raven Hair--the Braids, And Bracelets; Swan-like Bosoms, And The Necklace, An India In Itself, Yet Dazzling Not.

Oh! Snatched Away In Beauty's Bloom, On Thee Shall Press No Ponderous Tomb; But On Thy Turf Shall Roses Rear Their Leaves, The Earliest Of The Year.

The English Winter - Ending In July To Recommence In August