Calm is the deep and purple sea,
Yea, smoother than the sand;
The waves that weltering wont to be
Are stable like the land.
So silent is the cessile air
That every cry and call
The hills and dales and forest fair
Again repeats them all.
The flourishes and fragrant flowers,
Through Phoebus' fostering heat,
Refresht with dew and silver showers
Cast up an odour sweet.
The cloggit busy humming bees,
That never think to drone,
On flowers and flourishes of trees
Collect their liquor brown.
The Sun, most like a speedy post
With ardent course ascends;
The beauty of the heavenly host
Up to our zenith tends.
The burning beams down from his face
So fervently can beat,
That man and beast now seek a place
To save them from the heat.
The herds beneath some leafy tree
Amidst the flowers they lie;
The stable ships upon the sea
Tend up their sails to dry.
cessile] yielding, ceasing. flourishes] blossoms.
