On smoother, till [Favonius] reinspire
The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire
The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun.
What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,
Of [Attic] taste, with wine, whence we may rise 10
To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice
Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air?
He who of those delights can judge, [and spare]
[To interpose them oft], is not unwise.