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20  His liquid voice breathes odours round, And mingles with the melting sound. With golden locks, young Cupid see, And Bacchus, young and fair as he; With these is lovely Venus too, Who hastes to join the sportive crew; While we old men can scarce refrain To live the life we loved again.

once, with staff in hand, (A slender hyacinthine wand,) Slow walking with a tottering pace, Defied me to the rapid race. Away we flew o'er flood and fell, O'er craggy rock and bushy dell, Till hastening on with swiftest speed, A serpent stung me; then indeed My heart forgot its wonted play; I fainted—sunk—and died away.