Classic Poem

A certain youth for sale had brought
A waxen Eros; standing by
I asked the owner eagerly
For how much could the toy be bought.

" Take him at your own price, " said he
In Doric: " Sir, the truth to tell,
I make no images to sell,
But from Love's thraldom I'd be free.

The naughty fellow gives me rest
Nor day nor night, so I am fain
To part with him, that not again
He may disturb with pranks my breast. "

" Here for a drachm give him to me. "
I'll throw thee, Eros, in the fire
If thou with amorous desire
Enflam'st me not immediately.