When love with unconfined wings
. . . Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
. . . To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair
. . . And fettered to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
. . . Know no such liberty.
When flowing cups run swiftly round
. . . With no allaying Thames,
Our careless heads with roses...