Let a fury borrow lyre,
Notes, and dress, of thee.

"Let her meet, in this array,
One of these vile crews,
As though she had lost her way,
Soon as night ensues.

"Then with kisses dark, I trust,
They'll the dear child greet,
Satisfying their wild lust
Just as it is meet!"--

Said and done!--Then one from hell
Soon was dressed aright.
Scarcely had the prey, they tell,
Caught the fellow's sight,

Than, as kites a pigeon follow,
They attacked her straight--
Part, not all, though, I can swallow
Of what folks relate.

If fair boys were 'mongst the band,
How came they to be--
This I cannot understand,--
In such company?
. . . . .
The goddess a miscarriage had, good lack!
And was delivered of an--Almanac!