HORACE CONCOCTING AN ODE

TO thee, whose forehead swells with roses, Whose most haunted bower Gives life and scent to every flower, Whose most adoréd name encloses Things abstruse, deep, and divine; Whose yellow tresses shine Bright as Eoan fire: Oh, me thy priest inspire! For I to thee and thine immortal name, In—in—in golden tunes, For I to thee and thine immortal name— In—sacred raptures flowing, flowing, swimming, swimming: In sacred raptures swimming, Immortal name, game, dame, tame, lame, lame, lame, (Foh) hath, shame, proclaim, oh— In sacred raptures flowing, will proclaim. (No!) Oh, me thy priest inspire! For I to thee and thine immortal name, In flowing numbers filled with spright and flame, (Good! good!) In flowing numbers filled with spright and flame. Thomas Dekker.