“He bends the luscious cane, and twists the string
With bees; how sweet! but ah! how keen their sting.
He, with five flow’rets tips thy ruthless darts,
Which through five senses pierce enraptured hearts;
Strong Champa, rich in odorous gold;
Warm Amer, nursed in heavenly mould;
Dry Makeser, in silver smiling;
Hot Kitticum our sense beguiling;
And last, to kindle fierce the scorching flame,
Love Shaft, which gods bright Bela name.”—Sir W. Jones.