Ye sinn'd, and all My precepts slightedWrapp'd in the sleep of sin ye dwelt,Now is My fearful judgment felt,
Yonder comes my dear and trusty brother;What will he say to it all, I wonder?
THE BEAUTEOUS FLOWER.
His mouth is red--its power I dread,
I thought but of: ERGO BIBAMUS'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise,
Whom He, by dying, wellnigh kill'd;He shall pronounce her fearful fate
Thus he spake, and then listen'd. The sound of the stamping of horsesDrawing nearer was heard; and then the roll of the carriage,Which, with impetuous speed, now thunder'd under the gateway.-----II. TERPSICHORE.
We are not of noble kind,
She smiled, and answering said: "Thou see'st how wise,