Classic Poem

The mother of the fierce desires
And Semele the Theban's son inspires,
And wanton wilfulness assures
To render up my heart to fresh amours.
Bright Glycera my soul inflames,
Whose lustre e'en the Parian polish shames,
And her sweet archness fans the blaze,
And slipp'ry looks that balk the lover's gaze.
Her Cyprus now deserting quite,
Venus on me careers with all her might,
Nor lets the Scythian be rehears'd,
Nor Parthian furious with his steed revers'd,
As things impertinent to sing.
Here, lads, in rolls the living verdure bring,
And frankincense and vervain place
With wine of two years old to crown the vase.
A victim, wel'tring in his gore,
Her presence will propitiate the more.