 | Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow |  |
33
ODE XXI.
[Give me, O ye women, give]
Give me, O ye women, give
Of wine, that I may drink, and live;
That I may drink a mighty draught:
For I of Summer's heat have quaff'd
So deeply, that I scarce survive.
Of wine, that I may drink, and live;
That I may drink a mighty draught:
For I of Summer's heat have quaff'd
So deeply, that I scarce survive.
Give me of those flowers too;
For the flowers, that you view
Wreathed on my head, are dry;
And with my burning forehead die:
But, O then, my head, the while,
What shall the heat of love beguile?
To what shelter shalt thou fly?
For the flowers, that you view
Wreathed on my head, are dry;
And with my burning forehead die:
But, O then, my head, the while,
What shall the heat of love beguile?
To what shelter shalt thou fly?
| Select poems of Edward Hovel Thurlow | |