University of Virginia Library

ODE XVIII. ON THE SAME.

[Contrive me, Artisan, a Bowl]

Contrive me, Artisan, a Bowl
Of Silver ample as my Soul;
And in the bright Compartments bring
The sweet Profusion of the Spring;
Let that fair Season, rich in Flowers,
Shed Roses in ambrosial Showers;
Yet simply plain be thy Design,
A festive Banqueting of Wine;
No Hieroglyphics let it have,
No foreign Mysteries engrave:
Let no blood-thirsty Heroes wield
Rough Armour in the silver Field;
But draw me Jove's delightful Boy,
Paschus the God of Wine and Joy:
Let Venus with light Step advance,
And with gay Hymen lead the Dance.
Beneath the Leaf-embellish'd Vine,
Full of young Grapes that promise Wine,
Let Love, without his Armour meet
The meek-ey'd Graces laughing sweet.
And on the polish'd Plain display
A Group of beauteous Boys at Play;
But no Apollo, God of Day,