Couldst thou, Neæra, thus enlace
My neck with clinging close embrace;
If thine with such tenacious hold
My arms, Neæra, could enfold,
And nought could those sweet bonds dissever,
But we cling on and kiss forever;
Then, Ceres, Bacchus, sleep, adieu!
Good friends, I’d ask no more of you.
Oh, not for these, my love, oh, no,
Would I thy vermil lips forego;