40. To a Statue of Priapus
No vine I give, no orchard fair,
Thou guardian god, to be thy care;
Naught but thy native copse — and there
Are others like to thee.
WarNoff the thief, keep watch and ward,
And save the trees to warm their lord,
For if they fail — thou couldst afford
At least one fire for me.
Thou guardian god, to be thy care;
Naught but thy native copse — and there
Are others like to thee.
WarNoff the thief, keep watch and ward,
And save the trees to warm their lord,
For if they fail — thou couldst afford
At least one fire for me.
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