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Sylvie:
I wish you clearer vision, and sunnier mind,
What seek you fairer than this glade of ours,
Where the Court ladies with their gallants dance,
And like a butterfly the Eastern girl
The Jesuits sent from China for the Queen,
Flutters and poises, while the rippl'd lake
Glimmers in sunlit silver thro' the green.
Ombrage:
So you perceive it, thus to me appears
Thisto your visionso enchanted glade,
Trees heavy foliag'd and soon to fall,
Too old to stand for many winters more
Against the melancholy of a lake
Whence fever wakes at starset, and a sward
Where ladies over-ripe and listless swains,
These young too long, and these too early old
