die Krone des Naherin

The slaving seamstress has a swain who, her smile to wheedle,

Mimes stitching up his lips lest her heart escape

Beauty's thread, in the eye of its needle,

Is ever Ariadne's abandoned rape

Envoi-       

Prince! Make Drunkenness thy Ind lest Darkness abort

 & Love's bitter ends hold sacred its knot.

Vide

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