1. She is the breeze, a welcome for prolonged satire,
Though some may reserve her for praise,

2. Do not be amazed by the bride of wine,
Nor let a singing minstrel enchant you,

3. And he who for an hour misses his heart,
Then in it he dies, lost in ample discourse,

4. Ugly is he who counts some of the seas
As his drowning himself in a cup.