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 If full we charm, then call upon Anacreon To grace the frantic thyrse; And having drunk, we raise a shout Throughout To praise his verse.

Then cause we Horace to be read, Which sung, or said, A goblet to the brim Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd, Around We quaff to him.

Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours In wine and flowers, And make the frolic year, The month, the week, the instant day To stay The longer here.

Come then, brave knight, and see the cell Wherein I dwell, And my enchantments too, Which love and noble freedom is; And this Shall fetter you.