Daniel Read - Holland - текст песни (слова)

4. Not the mad tribe that hell inspires
 With wanton flames; those raging fires
 The purer bliss destroy:
 On Ætna's top let furies wed,
 And sheets of lightning dress the bed,
 To improve the burning joy.
 
 5. Not the dull pairs, whose marble forms
 None of the melting passions warms,
 Can mingle hearts and hands:
 Logs of green wood, that quench the coals.
 Are married just like Stoic souls,
 With osiers for their bands.
 
 6. Not minds of melancholy drain,
 Still silent, or that still complain,
 Can the dear bondage bless:
 As well may heavenly concerts spring
 From two old lutes with ne'er a string,
 Or none beside the bass.