Ode 56: The Love-Draught

Once wandering in Flora's bowers
To gather wreaths of fragrant flowers,
I found love's god asleep
Among the roses; in my wine
I plunged him—of the draught divine
I drank a potion deep.
Now in my limbs I feel the sting
Of his light pinions fluttering.
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Poets of The Anacreontea
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