Ode in the Manner of Anacreon, An
As late in wreaths gay flowers I bound,
Beneath some roses Love I found,
And by his little frolic pinion
As quick as thought I seiz'd the minion,
Then in my Cup the prisoner threw,
And drank him in its sparkling dew:
And sure I feel my angry Guest
Fluttering his Wings within my breast!
Beneath some roses Love I found,
And by his little frolic pinion
As quick as thought I seiz'd the minion,
Then in my Cup the prisoner threw,
And drank him in its sparkling dew:
And sure I feel my angry Guest
Fluttering his Wings within my breast!
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