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The Elegies of Tibullus - Being the Consolations of a Roman Lover Done in English Verse by 54 BC-19 BC Tibullus
page 84 of 90 (93%)
In Bacchus rather. Fill our cups once more!
Just and benign is he, if mortal wight
Him and his vines adore!

But, O! he rages, if his gift ye spurn.
Drink, if ye dare not a god's anger brave!
How fierce his stroke, let temperate fellows learn
Of Pentheus' gory grave.

Away such fear! Rather may some fierce stroke
On that false beauty fall!--O frightful prayer!
O, I am mad! O may my curse be broke,
And melt in misty air!

For, O Neaera, though I am forgot,
I ask all gods to bless thee, every one.
Back to my cups I go. This wine has brought
After long storms, the sun.

Alas! How hard to masque dull grief in joy!
A sad heart's jest--what bitter mockery!
With vain deceit my laughing lips employ
Loud mirth that is a lie.

But why complain and moan? O wretched me!
When will my lagging sorrows haste and go?
Delightful Bacchus at his mystery
Forbids these words of woe.

Once, by the wave, lone Ariadne pale,
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