Then, let us read in June, Boccaccio's stories

Then, let us read in June, Boccaccio's stories,
Told in gardens fair hard by Firenze's walls,
And Shakspeare's mind, here we shall dedicate
To a new purpose, vowed to ampler homage.
Now, let us renew our vows to all delights,
That grow from noble roots, enhance the day,
And turn its passing glories to high purpose.β€”
She cannot fail us, nature cannot fail,
God's just expression through unrivalled form.
And if the shallow worldling may not join
With our true reverence for God's noble works,
Thoughts of religion, still let us endue
The transitory moment with that bloom,
That on the fruit of Paradise shows purple,β€”
Color unfading, tint of cloudless skies,
Sapphire and amethyst of burnished spheres,
That ope their crystalline beyond Time's grave.
He shall not mock us, ne'er shall he deceive,β€”
Nature's progenitor, who from the first,
O'er all presiding still reneweth all!
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