Classic Poem

Neptune, on his festal day,
How can we so well exalt?
Lyde, bring without delay
Wine from out our inmost vault;
Thus you, with a fresh resource,
Wisdom's fort shall reinforce.

Don't you see the day decline?
Yet, as if the sun would wait,
You neglect to bring the wine,
Which is of most pleasant date;
For when Bibulus was chose,
It was laid to its repose.

We will sing alternate lays —
Neptune and the Nereids green,
I with lively verse will praise —
You, Latona, pow'rful queen,
And swift-darting Dian's laud,
With your twisted lyre applaud.

And the end of all to crown,
We will chant the queen of smiles,
Who with harness'd swans comes down
Unto all her fav'rite isles;
And as goddess of delight,
We will deify the night.