This Indigested Vomit Of The Sea,fell To

My Vegetable Love Should Grow Vaster Than Empires, And More Slow.

Art Indeed Is Long, But Life Is Short.

No White Nor Red Was Ever Seen So Am'rous As This Lovely Green. Fond Lovers, Cruel As Their Flame, Cut In These Trees Their Mistress' Name. Little, Alas, They Know Or Heed How Far These Beauties Hers Exceed! Fair Trees! Where S'e'er Your Barks I Wound, No Name Shall But Your Own Be Found.

Casting The Body's Vest Aside, My Soul Into The Boughs Does Glide.

And Yonder All Before Us Lie Deserts Of Vast Eternity.