This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
WINE OF CYPRUS.
297
Do you move, and open wide
Eyes of wonder toward me?)—
That while I, you, draw withal
From your slumber, solely,—
Me, from mine, an angel shall,
With reveillie holy!

Wine of Cyprus.
GIVEN TO ME BY H. S. BOYD, ESQ., AUTHOR OF "SELECT
PASSAGES FROM THE GREEK FATHERS," ETC., TO
WHOM THESE STANZAS ARE ADDRESSED.

If old Bacchus were the speaker,
He would tell you with a sigh,
Of the Cyprus in this beaker,
I am sipping like a fly,—
Like a fly or gnat on Ida
At the hour of goblet-pledge,
By queen Juno brushed aside, a
Full white arm-sweep, from the edge!

Sooth, the drinking should be ampler,
When the drink is so divine;
And some deep-mouthed Greek exampler
Would become your Cyprian wine!
Cyclops' mouth might plunge aright in,
While his one eye over-leered—
Nor too large were mouth of Titan,
Drinking rivers down his beard.

Pan might dip his head so deep in,
That his ears alone pricked out;
Fauns around him, pressing, leaping,
Each one pointing to his throat!