'Then Cæsar quick relax'd his hold,
And grip'd to find another;
And, soon, with hand most lewd and bold,
He clasp'd his wither'd mother.
'But she, too old for am'rous guile,
For Cupid's conflagration,
Felt his embrace, and stood the while
Secure from perturbation.
'Yes, like a stock or stone, she stood,
While naughty Cæsar linger'd,