XLIV.

Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.

The sentiment of this quatrain is traceable in C. 189, ll. 1 and 2, and in C. 195.

Be happy! for the time will come (When) all bodies will be hidden in the earth.

_Ref._: C. 189, L. 393, B. 389, S.P. 160, B. ii. 203.--N. 160, V. 390.

My whole mood is in sympathy with rosy cheeks, My hand is always grasping the wine cup; I exact from every part (of me) its allotted function, Ere that those parts (of me) be mingled with the all.

_Ref._: C. 195, L. 349, B. 345, S.P. 163, P. 287, B. ii. 206, T. 122.--W. 181, N. 163, V. 349.