This poet sings the Trojan wars, Another of the Theban jars, In rattling numbers, verse that dares. Whilst I, in soft and humble verse, My own captivities rehearse; I sing my own defeats, which are Not the events of common war. Not fleets at sea have vanquish'd me, Nor brigadiers, nor cavalry, Nor ranks and files of infantry. No, Anacreon still defies All your artillery companies Save those encamp'd in killing eyes; Each dart his mistress shoots, he dies.
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