Classic Poem

I.

T HE Tyrant Queen of soft Desires,
With the resistless aid of sprightly Wine
And wanton Ease, conspires
To make my Heart its Peace resign,
And re-admit Love's long rejected Fires.
For beauteous Glycera I burn,
The Flames so long repell'd with double Force return:
Endless her Charms appear, and shine more bright
Than polish'd Marble when reflecting Light;
With winning coyness, she my Soul disarms,
And when her looks are coldest, most she warms:
Her Face darts forth a thousand Rays,
Whose Lustre an unwary sight betrays,
My Eye balls swim, and I grow giddy while I gaze.

II.

She comes! she comes! she rushes in my Veins!
At once all Venus enters, and at large she reigns!
Cyprus , no more with her Abode is belst,
I am her Palace, and her Throne my Breast .
Of Savage Scythian Arms no more I write,
Or Parthian Archers , who in flying fight,
And make rough War their Sport;
Such idle Themes, no more shall move,
Nor any thing but what's of high import,
And what's of high import, but Love?
Vervain and Gums, and the green Turf prepare;
With Wine of two years old, your Cups be fill'd:
After our Sacrifice and Pray'r,
The Goddess may incline her Heart to yield.