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Eugene Field - To M.L. Gray,
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Come, dear old friend, and with us twain
  To calm Digentian groves repair;
The turtle coos his sweet refrain
  And posies are a-blooming there;
And there the romping Sabine girls
Bind myrtle in their lustrous curls.

I know a certain ilex-tree
  Whence leaps a fountain cool and clear.
Its voices summon you and me;
  Come, let us haste to share its cheer!
Methinks the rapturous song it sings
Should woo our thoughts from mortal things.

But, good old friend, I charge thee well,
  Watch thou my brother all the while,
Lest some fair Lydia cast her spell
  Round him unschooled in female guile.
Those damsels have no charms for me;
Guard thou that brother,--I`ll guard thee!

And, lo, sweet friend! behold this cup,
  Round which the garlands intertwine;
With Massic it is foaming up,
  And we would drink to thee and thine.
And of the draught thou shalt partake,
Who lov`st us for our father`s sake.

Hark you! from yonder Sabine farm
  Echo the songs of long ago,
With power to soothe and grace to charm
  What ills humanity may know;
With that sweet music in the air,
`T is Love and Summer everywhere.

So, though no grief consumes our lot
  (Since all our lives have been discreet),
Come, in this consecrated spot,
  Let`s see if pagan cheer be sweet.
Now, then, the songs; but, first, more wine.
The gods be with you, friends of mine!
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