Before necessity, that knows no ruth, Ordained thy frugal use in tea and coffee, Some Stoics banned theemen who in their youth Showed an unnatural dislike of toffee; For sweetness charms the normal human tooth, Sweetness inspires the singer's tenderest strophe, Since old LUCRETIUS musically chid The curse of lifeamari aliquid.
2 No more shall flowers the meads adorn, Nor sweetness deck the rosy thorn, Nor swelling buds proclaim the spring, Nor parching heats the dog-star bring, Nor laughing lilies paint the grove, When blue-eyed Ann I cease to love.
As there is music uninform'd by art In those wild notes, which, with a merry heart, The birds in unfrequented shades express, Who, better taught at home, yet please us less: So in your verse a native sweetness dwells, Which shames composure, and its art excels.
Fate wings with ev'ry wish th' afflictive dart, Each gift of nature, and each grace of art; With fatal heat impetuous courage glows, With fatal sweetness elocution flows, Impeachment stops the speaker's pow'rful breath, And restless fire precipitates on death.
Hence his warm lay with softest sweetness flows; Melting it flows, pure, numerous, strong, and clear, And fills th' impassioned heart, and wins th' harmonious ear.
E'en by that sweetheart charmed am I, Who once from my heart made sweetness fly.
Leave such to tune their own dull rhymes, and know What's roundly smooth or languishingly slow; And praise the easy vigour of a line, Where Denham's strength, and Waller's sweetness join.
This lord heard speak of the maiden, and began to love her, for the sweetness men told of her.
Yet much sweetness mingles itself with this bitter potion, chiefly in the view and hope of my speedy removal to the eternal world.
i. 412. 'Unusual sweetness purer joys inspires.' 394.
Here nature spreads her fruitful sweetness round, Breathes on the air, and broods upon the ground: Here days and nights the only seasons be; The sun no climate does so gladly see: When forced from hence, to view our parts, he mourns; Takes little journies, and makes quick returns.
She is lying in state, this fair June day, While the bee from the rose its sweetness sips; Her heart thrills not at the lark's clear lay, Though a smile illumines her pallid lips.
The nurseling there that hand may take, None ever grasp'd in vain, And smiles of well-known sweetness wake, Without their tinge of pain.