24
THE POEMS
Jocus took Comus' rosy crown,
And gaily wore the prize,
And thrice in mirth he push'd him down,
As thrice he strove to rise.
Then Cupid sought the myrtle grove,
Where Venus did recline;
And Venus close embracing Love,
They join'd to rail at wine.
And Comus loudly cursing wit,
Roll'd off to some retreat,
Where boon companions gravely sit
In fat unwieldy state.
Bacchus and Jocus, still behind,
For one fresh glass prepare;
They kiss, and are exceeding kind,
And vow to be sincere.
But part in time, whoever hear
This our instructive song;
For though such friendships may be dear,
They can't continue long.
