When [108]the green artichoke ascending flowers,
When, in the sultry season’s toilsome hours,
Perch’d on a branch, beneath his veiling wings
[109]The loud cicada shrill and frequent sings:
[110]Then the plump goat a savoury food bestows,
The poignant wine in mellowest flavour flows:
Wanton the blood then bounds in woman’s veins,
[111]But weak of man the heat-enfeebled reins:
Full on his brain descends the solar flame
Unnerves the languid knees, and all the frame