Normale Version: No walk today; - November's breathings toss'
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No walk today; - November's breathings toss'
The vaporous cloud in mases; fitter suit
The intercourse of minds, social dispute,
And wit's pure fire purging the mental dross; -

- So come, my friend; let those delights engross
The present hour; and when their voice is mute
Then let thy mellow-tongued, persuasive flute,
With its sweet utterance, well supply their loss. -

Thou shalt have tea, not wine; wine shall not sing
With siren pleadings to the unfettered blood;
Snug is the shuttered room; the fire is good;

Thy flute its tide of softest sounds shall bring:
While quiet pleasure, with a halcyon's wing.
Broods and luxuriates on the gentle flood!