satyr

In excusing the Freedom of your Satyr, you urge that it galls no body, because nobody minds it enough to be mended by it.

He seemed rather surprised—indeed a trifle hurt—that neither of us called him a Satyr.

He exclaimed, "All is lost if my Satyr and Cupid are not saved!"

Compared with this lordly poem, the erotic novel of the day, with its prurient platitudes, is as a satyr to Hyperion.

He began, when a child, a copy of a mutilated Satyr's head, and finished in his model what was wanting in the original.