AN ODE IN THE MANNER OF ANACREON[33:2]

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, [34]Then in my cup the prisoner threw, 5 And drank him in its sparkling dew: And sure I feel my angry guest Fluttering his wings within my breast!