Calamity and conﬂagration! Strife!
Elissus has attained the time of life,
Sixteen, that’s made for love, and he has all
The adolescent graces great and small:
A honeyed voice, a mouth that’s sweet to kiss,
And an accommodating oriﬁce.
But, “Look, don’t touch!” he tells me. What a fate!
I’ll lie awake all night and—meditate.