Donne, redouble——O douce yvresse!
Je suis plus heureux que les dieux.”
Help, Bacchus, or I’m quite undone,
All things against my peace conspire;
Unworthy rivals many a one,
I find, despising song and lyre.
My life’s entirely irksome grown,
By an inconstant I’m betray’d,
On that small fortune, once my own,
Injustice has severely prey’d.