Classic Poem

Beside the sultry stream he curbs amain his smoking mare.
What shapely girls on yonder grass are sheltering from the glare?

He leans across his saddle bow, athwart his courser's flanks
" And who'll be [?] [blank ] thanks

Together like a startled flock of lambs [?] crowd
And some [blank ] aloud.

But one, the little fleet Orina [?], [blank ]
She hastens to her fathers gate, & brings a cup of wine.

[space left for couplet ]

On tiptoe then with outstretched arms she held the ruddy cup;
He lean'd aside, he seized her waist & featherlike swung her up.