Hide, oh, hide those hills of snow Which thy frozen bosom bears, On whose tops the pinks that grow Are of those that April wears! But first set my poor heart free, Bound in those icy chains by thee.5
Note 2. Naught so sweet as melancholy.Robert Burton: Anatomy of Melancholy. Authors Abstract. [back]
Note 3. The following well-known catch, or glee, is formed on this song:
He who goes to bed, and goes to bed sober, Falls as the leaves do, and dies in October; But he who goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow, Lives as he ought to do, and dies an honest fellow. [back]