Long left unwounded by the grisly foe,
Who sometime pierces all with fatal shaft,
Still on my cheek fresh youth did lively glow,
And at his threatening arrow gaily laught;
Came then my friendly scholar, and we quaffed
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kindly clipt my steed's luxuriant mane: 'Twas my delight his searching eye to meet, In days of genial versing, memories sweet. very fine poem. tony