Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/390

348 While Gayton bounds before th' enraptured looks

Of hoary Marquises, and stripling Dukes:

Let high-born lechers eye the lively Presle

Twirl her light limbs, that spurn the needless veil;

Let Angiolini bare her breast of snow,

Wave the white arm, and point the pliant toe;

Collini trill her love-inspiring song,

Strain her fair neck, and charm the listening throng!

Whet not your scythe, Suppressors of our Vice!

Reforming Saints! too delicately nice!

By whose decrees, our sinful souls to save,

No Sunday tankards foam, no barbers shave;

And beer undrawn, and beards unmown, display

Your holy reverence for the Sabbath-day.

Or hail at once the patron and the pile

Of vice and folly, Greville and Argyle!