_Friend_, _when you bear a care-dulled eye_, _And brow perplexed with things of weight_, _And fain would bid some charm untie_ _The bonds that hold you all too strait_, _Behold a solace to your fate_, _Wrapped in this cover’s china blue_; _These ballades fresh and delicate_, _This dainty troop of Thirty-two_! _The mind_, _unwearied_, _longs to fly_ _And commune with the wise and great_; _But that same ether_, _rare and high_, _Which glorifies its worthy mate_, _To breath forspent is disparate_: _Laughing and light and airy-new_ _These come to tickle the dull pate_, _This dainty troop of Thirty-two_.…
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