When the Pleasures, like waves to a swimmer,

Came heaving for rapture ahead! -

Invoke them, they dwindle, they glimmer

As lights over mounds of the dead.

Behold the winged Olympus, off the mead,

With thunder of wide pinions, lightning speed,

Wafting the shepherd-boy through ether clear,

So flies desire at view of its delight,