ODE X.[1]
Reading edition
ODE X.[1]
How am I to punish thee, For the wrong thou'st done to me Silly swallow, prating thing— Shall I clip that wheeling wing? Or, as Tereus did, of old,[2] (So the fabled tale is told,) Shall I tear that tongue away, Tongue that uttered such a lay? Ah, how thoughtless hast thou been! Long before the dawn was seen, When a dream came o'er my mind, Picturing her I worship, kind, Just when I was nearly blest, Loud thy matins broke my rest!
[1] This ode is addressed to a swallow.
[2] Modern poetry has conferred the name of Philomel upon the nightingale; but many respectable authorities among the ancients assigned this metamorphose to Progne, and made Philomel the swallow, as Anacreon does here.