Classic Poem

With the sweet censer and the lyre,
And fatted calf upon the sacred fire,
The tutelary Gods we bless,
That we our Numida once more caress;
Who safe and sound from farthest Spain,
Dear to a thousand friends, is come again —
And yet to none such love he bears,
With none the fond embrace so warmly shares,
As with lov'd Lamia, mindful still
That they were form'd by one preceptor's skill,
And both together chang'd their gown —
Set the good day in white memorials down;
The ready cask by no means spare,
Nor let your feet the morrice-dance forbear.
Yet Damalis the tippler check,
Lest Bassus she out-drink — the table deck
With store of parsley, many a rose
And lily, that in transient sweetness blows.
They all will turn their putrid eyes
On Damalis, who will not quit her prize;
But her new conquest hugs in hold,
As the ambitious ivies the tall oak infold.