63. An Ode to Sir Clipsby Crew
Here we securely live, and eatThe cream of meat;And keep eternal fires,By which we sit, and do divine,As wineAnd rage inspires.
If full, we charm; then call uponAnacreonTo grace the frantic Thyrse:And having drunk, we raise a shoutThroughout,To praise his verse.
Then cause we Horace to be read,Which sung or said,A goblet, to the brim,Of lyric wine, both swell’d and crown’d,AroundWe quaff to him.
Thus, thus we live, and spend the hoursIn wine and flowers;And make the frolic year,The month, the week, the instant dayTo stayThe longer here.
—Come then, brave Knight, and see the cellWherein I dwell;And my enchantments too;Which love and noble freedom is:—And thisShall fetter you.
Take horse, and come; or be so kindTo send your mind,Though but in numbers few:—And I shall think I have the heartOr partOf Clipsby Crew.