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55

ODE XXXVIII.

[Aged I am, and yet, I think]

Aged I am, and yet, I think,
More than the youthful bands I drink:
And, if need were for me to dance,
With sprightly youth I would advance:
I for a leading sceptre hold
A flaggon of life-breathing gold,
With wine to charm the purple God:
For nought avails to hold a rod.
He, who in battle taketh glee;
Why let him; he may fight for me:
My cup, O boy! and pour the wine
Honied, and like Spring divine:
For, though 'tis true that I am old,
By age I will not be control'd;
Pour the ripe flood, and I, meanwhile,
Will dance in old Silenus' style!