Classic Poem

Thou must twine thee so lovingly round me,
Thou woman, dear, lovely and warm;
Till with arms and with feet thou hast bound me,
And with all the lithe grace of thy form.

Then she threw herself mightily on me;
She twined, and she wound, and she pressed;
She won me, most beautiful serpent!
Her Laocöon the thrice blest.