211
Like as the skies rain down sweet jessamine,
And sprinkle all the meads with eglantine,
Right so, from out this jug of violet hue,
I pour in lily cups this rosy wine.

210
At dawn, when dews bedeck the tulip’s face,
And violets their heavy heads abase,
I love to see the roses’ folded buds,
With petals closed against the wind’s disgrace.

209
They who by genius, and by power of brain,
The rank of man’s enlighteners attain,
Not even they emerge from this dark night,
But tell their dreams, and fall asleep again.

208
While Moon and Venus in the sky shall dwell,
None shall see aught red grape-juice to excel:
O foolish publicans, what can you buy
One half so precious as the goods you sell?

This episode is about the ever-elusive Comte de Saint-Germaine.

207
Sooner with half a loaf contented be,
And water from a broken crock, like me,
Than lord it over one poor fellow man,
Or to another bow the vassal knee.

It’s been a hectic month.  I try to begin each month with the appropriate selection from Tschaikovsky’s The Seasons, and I post some kind of music, classical or otherwise, every Friday.  I neglected the former at the beginning of this month, and the latter this Friday past.  Therefore, I have rectified this:   you may listen to Tschaikovsky here and Friday’s music–for which I selected Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier–here.  Enjoy!

BY BEN JONSON

206
For me heaven’s sphere no music ever made,
Nor yet with soothing voice my fears allayed;
If e’er I found brief respite from my woes,
Back to woe’s thrall I was at once betrayed.

205
O comrades dear, when hither ye repair
In times to come, communion sweet to share,
While the cupbearer pours your old Magh wine,
Call poor Khayyam to mind, and breathe a prayer.