Unhurt by steel, arose an ancient wood,A mansion fit for some retiring god;With craggy stones a secret grot was hung,And in the midst a sacred fountain sprung;The courting birds repeating songs of love,With soft complainings sweetly fill'd the grove:Here wand'ring thoughtful, and intent to chooseSome theme unsung, to please the busy muse;Fair elegy came on with gentle pace,Unforc'd her air and easy was her grace.Her flaxen hair, in curious tresses wreath'd,Ambrosial sweets and heav'nly odours breath'd;A simple dress the careless charmer bore,And loving looks, and smiles unartful wore.Next came the goddess of the tragic scene,With stately tread, and proud majestic mienHer front severe, with hanging curls was drown'd,Her length of robe was full, and swept the ground:Her hand held out, a regal sceptre grac'd,And Lydian buskins half her legs embrac'd.She first; "Must love for ever tune thy voice,Fond idle bard, and trifling in thy choiceThy wanton songs employ the drunkard's tongue,In ev'ry street thy ribald lays are sung;The finger marks thee in thy passing by,'Behold, where goes the slave of love,' they cry.Thy lewd exploits, thou profligate, are grownThe public theme, and talk of all the town;Whilst unconcern'd, and lost to sense of shame,Thou still runn'st on nor mind'st thy ruin'd fame.Enough thou'st told the plaints of fond desire,Now let a nobler inspiration fire;Thy matter cramps thy genius, learn to findA manly subject, and exert thy mind.In songs for girls, fond toys, and idle play,Thy muse has wanton'd all her hours away.But youth at length has fill'd its measure up;My friend, 'tis time to taste of t'other cup.Now in my service let thy force be shown,Assert my honour, and retrieve thy own;Thy sprightly fancy, and inventive wit,The lofty style of tragic scenes will fit."She said; and proudly rising in her gait,Thrice shook her tresses, and display'd her state.With open look (nor was my sight beguil'd)And joyous eyes her rival sweetly smil'd;Sustain'd her hand a myrtle branch upright?Or did my fancy form the charming sight?"Still so severe, 0, tragedy! (she cried);And canst thou ne'er forego thy sullen pride?I not compare my lowly lays to thine;Too weak materials for the vast design.The style unlabour'd, negligent the dress,My verse is humbler, and my matter less.Gay, wanton, soft, my business is to move,With melting strains, the playful god of love.Bereft of me, fair Venus wants her charms,I help the goddess, and prepare her arms.My luring art, and soothing lays prevail,Where lofty port, and tragic buskins fail.I more deserve, by making that my care,Thy rigid pride allows not thee to bear:By me, Corinna first was taught to tryTobreak from prison, and deceive the spy;I first induc'd the fearful fair to slideWith tremb'ling caution from her husband's side;When to thy arms, all loose, and disarray'd,Prepar'd for pleasure, flew the melting maid.Fix'd on her door, how oft I've hung on high,Expos'd, and patient of each gazing eye!How oft, in secret, while the keeper stay'd,Within her woman's panting bosom laid!Once sent a birthday gift, the cruel dameIn pieces tore, and gave me to the flame.I taught thee first to cultivate thy mind;Thy fancy brightened, and thy wit refin'd;Thou to my care those merits must allow,For which my rival would seduce thee now;"They spoke. I answer'd, "Let me both conjureTo spare a mind with terrors unsecure;Nor to my charge, when once pronounc'd, be laidAs crimes, the words my trembling tongue has said.To gain me glory, thy decrees ordainThe regal sceptre and the tragic strain;With painful labour need I toil for fame,When easier tasks already raise my name?Thou mak'st my love immortal; thee I choose:Be thou my queen, and still command my muse.Majestic pow'r, forgive my simple choice,Thy gentle rival has obtain'd my voice.Short is the time in which her palm is won;Ere thine is gain'd, the poet's life is done."I lowly said: she gracious gave assent,And diff'rent ways the parting rivals went.Ye gentle loves, complete the work assign'd,A greater labour seems to press behind.
Stat vetus et multos incaedua silva per annos;Credibile est illi numen inesse loco.Fons sacer in medio speluncaque pumice pendens,Et latere ex omni dulce queruntur aves.Hic ego dum spatior tectus nemoralibus umbris —Quod mea, quaerebam, Musa moveret opus —Venit odoratos Elegia nexa capillos,Et, puto, pes illi longior alter erat.Forma decens, vestis tenuissima, vultus amantis,Et pedibus vitium causa decoris erat.Venit et ingenti violenta Tragoedia passu:Fronte comae torva, palla iacebat humi;Laeva manus sceptrum late regale movebat,Lydius alta pedum vincla cothurnus erat.Et prior 'ecquis erit,' dixit, 'tibi finis amandi,O argumenti lente poeta tui?Nequitiam vinosa tuam convivia narrant,Narrant in multas conpita secta vias.Saepe aliquis digito vatem designat euntem,Atque ait "hic, hic est, quem ferus urit Amor!"Fabula, nec sentis, tota iactaris in urbe,Dum tua praeterito facta pudore refers.Tempus erat, thyrso pulsum graviore moveri;Cessatum satis est — incipe maius opus!Materia premis ingenium. cane facta virorum."haec animo," dices, "area facta meo est!"Quod tenerae cantent, lusit tua Musa, puellae,Primaque per numeros acta iuventa suos.Nunc habeam per te Romana Tragoedia nomen!Inplebit leges spiritus iste meas.'Hactenus, et movit pictis innixa cothurnisDensum caesarie terque quaterque caput.Altera, si memini, limis subrisit ocellis —Fallor, an in dextra myrtea virga fuit?'Quid gravibus verbis, animosa Tragoedia,' dixit,'Me premis? an numquam non gravis esse potes?Inparibus tamen es numeris dignata moveri;In me pugnasti versibus usa meis.Non ego contulerim sublimia carmina nostris;Obruit exiguas regia vestra fores.Sum levis, et mecum levis est, mea cura, Cupido;Non sum materia fortior ipsa mea.Rustica sit sine me lascivi mater Amoris;Huic ego proveni lena comesque deae.Quam tu non poteris duro reserare cothurno,Haec est blanditiis ianua laxa meis;Et tamen emerui plus quam tu posse, ferendoMulta supercilio non patienda tuo.Per me decepto didicit custode CorinnaLiminis adstricti sollicitare fidem,Delabique toro tunica velata solutaAtque inpercussos nocte movere pedes.A quotiens foribus duris infixa pependi,Non verita a populo praetereunte legi!Quin ego me memini, dum custos saevus abiret,Ancillae miseram delituisse sinu.Quid, cum me munus natali mittis, at illaRumpit et adposita barbara mersat aqua?Prima tuae movi felicia semina mentis;Munus habes, quod te iam petit ista, meum.'Desierat. coepi: 'per vos utramque rogamus,In vacuas aures verba timentis eant.Altera me sceptro decoras altoque cothurno;Iam nunc contacto magnus in ore sonus.Altera das nostro victurum nomen amori —Ergo ades et longis versibus adde brevis!Exiguum vati concede, Tragoedia, tempus!Tu labor aeternus; quod petit illa, breve est.'Mota dedit veniam — teneri properentur Amores,Dum vacat; a tergo grandius urguet opus!
Not in the Circus do I sit to viewThe running horses, but to gaze on you;Near you I choose an advantageous place,And whilst your eyes are fix'd upon the race,Mine are on you—Thus do we feast our sight,Each alike pleas'd with objects of delight;In softer whispers I my passion move,You of the rider talk, but I of love.When, to please you, I straight my subject quitAnd change my wishes to your favourite;Oh. might I ride, and be so much your care,I'd start with courage from the barrier,And with a swift short compass brush the goal—Unless the sight of you my course restrains,And makes my hands forego the loosen'd reins;As Pelops gaz'd on Hippodamia's face,Till he had almost lost th' important race;Yet he his mistress by her favour won;So may our prize assist us when we run."What mean these starts? you must not, can't remove:This kind auspicious place was fram d for love.I fear you're crowded,- Gentlemen, forbear,Pray let your arms and knees the lady spare;Madam, your gown hangs down-nay, pray let me—Oh heav'ns! what fine, what curious legs I see!Sure, who Diana in a forest drew,Copied in this the graceful'st parts from you;Such Atalant discovering as she ran,What rapt'rous wishes seiz'd MenalionI burn'd and rag'd before—what then are these,But flames on flames, and waters to the seas?By these a thousand other charms are guess'd,Which are so advantageously suppress'd.Oh for some air! this scorching heat remove,Your fan would do't, but 'tis the heat of love."But now the pomp appears, the sacred throngCommand applauses from the heart and tongue;First victory with expanded wings does move,Be near, O Goddess! to assist my love;To Mars let warriors acclamations raise,The merchants' tongues resound with Neptune's praise;Whilst I, whom neither seas nor arms invite,In love alone, the fruit of peace, delight;To their Apollo let the prophets pray,And hunters to Diana homage pay.Let the mechanics to Minerva vow,Rustics to Ceres, and to Bacchus bow;Whilst I devote myself to thee alone,Kind Venus, and the pow'rful god thy son;0 be propitious to my enterprize,Inform with all thy softness these fair eyes,And to love's cause her gentle breast incline;She grants, and has contriv'd it with a sign;Do you assure it too, you who're to me(With Venus' leave) the mightier deity,By all these heavenly witnesses' to youWill I be ever faithful, ever true.Now ib the open cirque the game's begun,The praetor gives the signal, now they run;I see which way your wishes are inclin'd,To him a certain conquest is design'd;For e'en the horses seem to know your mind.He takes too large a compass to come in,And lets his adversary get between;Recall him, Romans, for a second heat,And clear the course—Now see your ground you better do maintain,This lady's favour, and your fame regain;The prize is his.-As yours successful prove,So let my wishes, which are all for love;I'm yet to conquer, and your heart's the prize;Something she promis'd with her sparkling eyes,And smil'd;-" Enough," did I transported cry,"The rest I leave to opportunity."
'Non ego nobilium sedeo studiosus equorum;Cui tamen ipsa faves, vincat ut ille, precor.Ut loquerer tecum veni, tecumque sederem,Ne tibi non notus, quem facis, esset amor.Tu cursus spectas, ego te; spectemus uterqueQuod iuvat, atque oculos pascat uterque suos.O, cuicumque faves, felix agitator equorum!Ergo illi curae contigit esse tuae?Hoc mihi contingat, sacro de carcere missisInsistam forti mente vehendus equis,Et modo lora dabo, modo verbere terga notabo,Nunc stringam metas interiore rota.Si mihi currenti fueris conspecta, morabor,Deque meis manibus lora remissa fluent.At quam paene Pelops Pisaea concidit hasta,Dum spectat vultus, Hippodamia, tuos!Nempe favore suae vicit tamen ille puellae.Vincamus dominae quisque favore suae!Quid frustra refugis? cogit nos linea iungi.Haec in lege loci commoda circus habet —Tu tamen a dextra, quicumque es, parce puellae;Contactu lateris laeditur ista tui.Tu quoque, qui spectas post nos, tua contrahe crura,Si pudor est, rigido nec preme terga genu!Sed nimium demissa iacent tibi pallia terra.Collige — vel digitis en ego tollo meis!Invida vestis eras, quae tam bona crura tegebas;Quoque magis spectes — invida vestis eras!Talia Milanion Atalantes crura fugacisOptavit manibus sustinuisse suis.Talia pinguntur succinctae crura DianaeCum sequitur fortes, fortior ipsa, feras.His ego non visis arsi; quid fiet ab ipsis?In flammam flammas, in mare fundis aquas.Suspicor ex istis et cetera posse placere,Quae bene sub tenui condita veste latent.Vis tamen interea faciles arcessere ventos?Quos faciet nostra mota tabella manu.An magis hic meus est animi, non aeris aestus,Captaque femineus pectora torret amor?Dum loquor, alba levi sparsa est tibi pulvere vestis.Sordide de niveo corpore pulvis abi!Sed iam pompa venit — linguis animisque favete!Tempus adest plausus — aurea pompa venit.Prima loco fertur passis Victoria pinnis —Huc ades et meus hic fac, dea, vincat amor!Plaudite Neptuno, nimium qui creditis undis!Nil mihi cum pelago; me mea terra capit.Plaude tuo Marti, miles! nos odimus arma;Pax iuvat et media pace repertus amor.Auguribus Phoebus, Phoebe venantibus adsit!Artifices in te verte, Minerva, manus!Ruricolae, Cereri teneroque adsurgite Baccho!Pollucem pugiles, Castora placet eques!Nos tibi, blanda Venus, puerisque potentibus arcuPlaudimus; inceptis adnue, diva, meisDaque novae mentem dominae! patiatur amari!Adnuit et motu signa secunda dedit.Quod dea promisit, promittas ipsa, rogamus;Pace loquar Veneris, tu dea maior eris.Per tibi tot iuro testes pompamque deorum,Te dominam nobis tempus in omne peti!Sed pendent tibi crura. potes, si forte iuvabit,Cancellis primos inseruisse pedes.Maxima iam vacuo praetor spectacula circoQuadriiugos aequo carcere misit equos.Cui studeas, video. vincet, cuicumque favebis.Quid cupias, ipsi scire videntur equi.Me miserum, metam spatioso circuit orbe!Quid facis? admoto proxumus axe subit.Quid facis, infelix? perdis bona vota puellae.Tende, precor, valida lora sinistra manu!Favimus ignavo — sed enim revocate, Quirites,Et date iactatis undique signa togis!En, revocant! — ac ne turbet toga mota capillos,In nostros abdas te licet usque sinus.Iamque patent iterum reserato carcere postes;Evolat admissis discolor agmen equis.Nunc saltem supera spatioque insurge patenti!Sint mea, sint dominae fac rata vota meae!Sunt dominae rata vota meae, mea vota supersunt.Ille tenet palmam; palma petenda mea est.'Risit, et argutis quiddam promisit ocellis.'Hoc satis est, alio cetera redde loco!'
Can there be gods?-has she not falsely swore?Yet is the beauty that she was before!The curious tresses of her dangling hair,As long, and graceful still as e'er they were;That same inimitable white and red,Which o'er her face was so distinctly spread,The roses, and the lilies keep their place,And ev'ry feature still as justly grace;Her sparkling eyes their lustre still retain,That form, that perfect shape does still remain,As if she ne'er had sinn'd; and heav'n, ('tis plain)Suff'ring the fairer sex to break their vows,To the superior pow'r of beauty bows.T' inforce my credit to her perjuries,Oft would she swear by those persuasive eyes;As if that charm had been too weak to move,Sh'as added mine;-tell me, ye pow'rs above,Why all this pain? why are these guiltless eyesFor her offence th' atoning sacrifice?Was't not enough Andromeda has died,An expiation for her mother's pride?Is't not enough, that unconcern'd you see(Vain witnesses for truth, for faith, for me,)Such an affront put on divinity,Yet no revenge the daring crime pursue,But the deceiv'd must be her victim too?Either the gods are empty notions, creptInto the minds of sleepers as they slept,In vain are fear'd, are but the tricks of law,To keep the foolish cred'lous world in awe;Or, if there be a god, he loves the fair,And all things at their sole disposal are.For us are all the instruments of warDesign'd, the sword of Mars, and Pallas' spear;'Gainst us alone Apollo's bows are bent,And at our hands Jove's brandish'd thunder sent.Yet of the ladies, oh! how fond are they!Dare not the inj'ries they receive, repay,But those who ought to fear them they obey.Jove to his votaries is most severe;Temples nor altars does his lightning spare.Obliging Semele in flames expires,But those who merit, can escape the fires.Is this the justice of your pow'rs divine?Who then will offer incense at a shrine?Why do we thus reproach the deities?Have they not hearts?-and surely they have eyes,Nay, had I been a god, I had believ'dThe lovely criminals, and been deceiv'd;Had wav'd the judgments to their perj'ries due,And sworn myself that all they spoke was true.Since then the gods such ample gifts bestow,As make you absolute o'er men below;Pray let me find some mercy in your reign,Or spare at least your lover's eyes from pain.
Esse deos, i, crede — fidem iurata fefellit,Et facies illi, quae fuit ante, manet!Quam longos habuit nondum periura capillos,Tam longos, postquam numina laesit, habet.Candida candorem roseo suffusa ruboreAnte fuit — niveo lucet in ore rubor.Pes erat exiguus — pedis est artissima forma.Longa decensque fuit — longa decensque manet.Argutos habuit — radiant ut sidus ocelli,Per quos mentita est perfida saepe mihi.Scilicet aeterni falsum iurare puellisDi quoque concedunt, formaque numen habet.Perque suos illam nuper iurasse recordorPerque meos oculos: en doluere mei!Dicite, di, si vos inpune fefellerat illa,Alterius meriti cur ego damna tuli?An non invidiae vobis Cepheia virgo est,Pro male formosa iussa parente mori?Non satis est, quod vos habui sine pondere testis,Et mecum lusos ridet inulta deos?Ut sua per nostram redimat periuria poenam,Victima deceptus decipientis ero?Aut sine re nomen deus est frustraque timeturEt stulta populos credulitate movet;Aut, siquis deus est, teneras amat ille puellasEt nimium solas omnia posse iubet.Nobis fatifero Mavors accingitur ense;Nos petit invicta Palladis hasta manu.Nobis flexibiles curvantur Apollinis arcus;In nos alta Iovis dextera fulmen habet.Formosas superi metuunt offendere laesiAtque ultro, quae se non timuere, timent.Et quisquam pia tura focis inponere curat?Certe plus animi debet inesse viris!Iuppiter igne suo lucos iaculatur et arcesMissaque periuras tela ferire vetat.Tot meruere peti — Semele miserabilis arsit!Officio est illi poena reperta suo;At si venturo se subduxisset amanti,Non pater in Baccho matris haberet opus.Quid queror et toto facio convicia caelo?Di quoque habent oculos, di quoque pectus habent!Si deus ipse forem, numen sine fraude liceretFemina mendaci falleret ore meum;Ipse ego iurarem verum iurare puellasEt non de tetricis dicerer esse deus.Tu tamen illorum moderatius utere dono —Aut oculis certe parce, puella, meis!
Vex not thyself and her, vain man, since allBy their own vice or virtue stand or fall.She's truly chaste, and worthy of that name,Who hates the ill, as well as fears the shame;And that vile woman whom restraint keeps in,Tho' she forbear the act, has done the sin.Spies, locks, and bolts may keep her brutal part,But thou'rt an odious cuckold in her heart.They that have freedom use it least, and soThe power of ill does the design overthrow.Provoke not vice by a too harsh restraint;Sick men long most to drink, who know they mayn't.The fiery courser, whom no art can stay,Or rugged force, does oft fair means obey;And he that did the rudest arm disdain,Submits with quiet to the looser rein.A hundred eyes had Argus, yet the whileOne silly maid did all those eyes beguile;Danae, tho' shut within a brazen tow'r,Felt the male virtue of the golden show'r;But chaste Penelope, left to her own willAnd free disposal, never thought of ill;She to her absent lord preserv'd her truth,For all th' addresses of the smoother youth,What's rarely seen, our fancy magnifies;Permitted pleasure who does not despise?Thy care provokes beyond her face, and moreMen strive to make tho cuckold than the whore.They're wondrous charms we think, and long to knowThat in a wife enchants a husband so:Rage, swear, and curse, no matter, she alonePleases, who sighs, and cries, " I am undone."But could thy spies say, " We have kept her chaste,"Good servants then, but an ill wife thou hast;Who fears to be a cuckold is a clown,Not worthy to partake of this lewd town,Where it is monstrous to be fair and chaste,And not one inch of either sex lies waste.Wouldst thou be happy? with her ways comply,And in her case lay points of honour by:The friendship she begins, wisely improve,And a fair wife gets one a world of love:So shalt thou welcome be to ev'ry treat,Live high, not pay, and never run in debt.
Dure vir, inposito tenerae custode puellaeNil agis; ingenio est quaeque tuenda suo.Siqua metu dempto casta est, ea denique casta est;Quae, quia non liceat, non facit, illa facit!Ut iam servaris bene corpus, adultera mens est;Nec custodiri, ne velit, ulla potest.Nec corpus servare potes, licet omnia claudas;Omnibus exclusis intus adulter erit.Cui peccare licet, peccat minus; ipsa potestasSemina nequitiae languidiora facit.Desine, crede mihi, vitia inritare vetando;Obsequio vinces aptius illa tuo.Vidi ego nuper equum contra sua vincla tenacemOre reluctanti fulminis ire modo;Constitit ut primum concessas sensit habenasFrenaque in effusa laxa iacere iuba!Nitimur in vetitum semper cupimusque negata;Sic interdictis imminet aeger aquis.Centum fronte oculos, centum cervice gerebatArgus — et hos unus saepe fefellit Amor;In thalamum Danae ferro saxoque perennemQuae fuerat virgo tradita, mater erat;Penelope mansit, quamvis custode carebat,Inter tot iuvenes intemerata procos.Quidquid servatur cupimus magis, ipsaque furemCura vocat; pauci, quod sinit alter, amant.Nec facie placet illa sua, sed amore mariti;Nescio quid, quod te ceperit, esse putant.Non proba fit, quam vir servat, sed adultera cara;Ipse timor pretium corpore maius habet.Indignere licet, iuvat inconcessa voluptas;Sola placet, 'timeo!' dicere siqua potest.Nec tamen ingenuam ius est servare puellam —Hic metus externae corpora gentis agat!Scilicet ut possit custos 'ego' dicere 'feci,'In laudem servi casta sit illa tui?Rusticus est nimium, quem laedit adultera coniunx,Et notos mores non satis urbis habetIn qua Martigenae non sunt sine crimine natiRomulus Iliades Iliadesque Remus.Quo tibi formosam, si non nisi casta placebat?Non possunt ullis ista coire modis.Si sapis, indulge dominae vultusque severosExue, nec rigidi iura tuere viri,Et cole quos dederit — multos dabit — uxor amicos.Gratia sic minimo magna labore venit;Sic poteris iuvenum convivia semper inireEt, quae non dederis, multa videre domi.
'Twas in the midst and silent dead of night,When heavy sleep oppos'd my weary sight,This vision did my troubled mind affright:-To Sol expos'd there stood a rising ground,Which cast beneath a spacious shade around;A gloomy grove of spreading oaks below,And various birds were perch'd on ev'ry bough;Just on the margin of a verdant mead,Where murm'ring brooks refreshing waters spreadTo shun the heat I sought this cool recess,But in this shade I felt my heat no less;When browzing o'er the flow'ry grass appear'dA lovely cow, the fairest of the herd.By spotless white distinguished from the rest,Whiter than milk from her own udder press'd;Whiter than falling, or the driven snow,Before descending mists can make it flow.She, with a lusty bull, her happy mate,Delighted, on the tender herbage sat;There, as he crops the flow'rs, and chews the cud,Feasting a second time upon his food,His limbs with sudden heaviness oppress'd,He bends his head, and sinks to pleasing rest.A noisy crow, cleaving the liquid air,Thrice with lewd bill pick'd off the heifer's hair;The glossy white imbib'd a spreading blot,But on her breast appear'd a livid spot.The cow rose slowly from her consort's side,But when afar the grazing bull she spied,Frisk'd to the herd, with an impetuous haste,And pleas'd, in new luxuriant soil, her taste.Oh, learn'd diviner!What may this visionary dream portend,If dreams in any future truth can end?The prophet nicely weighs what I relate,And thus denounces in the voice of fate:-"That heat you tried to shun i' th' shady grove,But shunn'd in vain, was the fierce heat of love.The cow denotes the nymph, your only care,(For white's th' expressive image of the fair,)And you the bull, abandon'd to despair.The picking crow some busy bawd implies,Who with base arts will soon seduce your prim.You saw the cow to fresher pasture range,So will your nymph for richer lovers change;As mixing with the herd you saw her rove,So will the fair pursue promiscuous love;Soon will you find a foul incestuous blot,As on the cow you view'd the livid spot."At this my blood retired, with dismal fright,And left me pale as death; my fainting sightWas quite o'ercast in dusky shades of night.
'Nox erat, et somnus lassos submisit ocellos;Terruerunt animum talia visa meum:Colle sub aprico creberrimus ilice lucusStabat, et in ramis multa latebat avis.Area gramineo suberat viridissima prato,Umida de guttis lene sonantis aquae.Ipse sub arboreis vitabam frondibus aestum —Fronde sub arborea sed tamen aestus erat —Ecce! petens variis inmixtas floribus herbasConstitit ante oculos candida vacca meos,Candidior nivibus, tunc cum cecidere recentes,In liquidas nondum quas mora vertit aquas;Candidior, quod adhuc spumis stridentibus albetEt modo siccatam, lacte, reliquit ovem.Taurus erat comes huic, feliciter ille maritus,Cumque sua teneram coniuge pressit humum.Dum iacet et lente revocatas ruminat herbasAtque iterum pasto pascitur ante cibo,Visus erat, somno vires adimente ferendi,Cornigerum terra deposuisse caput.Huc levibus cornix pinnis delapsa per aurasVenit et in viridi garrula sedit humo,Terque bovis niveae petulanti pectora rostroFodit et albentis abstulit ore iubas.Illa locum taurumque diu cunctata relinquit —Sed niger in vaccae pectore livor erat;Utque procul vidit carpentes pabula tauros —Carpebant tauri pabula laeta procul —Illuc se rapuit gregibusque inmiscuit illisEt petiit herbae fertilioris humum.Dic age, nocturnae, quicumque es, imaginis augur,Siquid habent veri, visa quid ista ferant.'Sic ego; nocturnae sic dixit imaginis augur,Expendens animo singula dicta suo:'Quem tu mobilibus foliis vitare volebas,Sed male vitabas, aestus amoris erat.Vacca puella tua est — aptus color ille puellae;Tu vir et in vacca conpare taurus eras.Pectora quod rostro cornix fodiebat acuto,Ingenium dominae lena movebat anus.Quod cunctata diu taurum sua vacca reliquit,Frigidus in viduo destituere toro.Livor et adverso maculae sub pectore nigraePectus adulterii labe carere negant.'Dixerat interpres. gelido mihi sanguis ab oreFugit, et ante oculos nox stetit alta meos.
Thy course, thy noble course a while forbear,I am in haste now going to my dear!Thy banks how rich, thy stream how worthy praiseAlas, my haste! sweet river, let me pass.No bridges here, no ferry, not an oar,Or rope to haul me to the farther shore!I have remember'd thee a little one,Who now with all this flood com'st blund'ring down.Did I refuse my sleep, my wine, my friend,To spur along, and must I here attend?No art to help me to my journey's end!Ye Lapland powers, make me so far a witch,I may astride get over on a switch.Or, for some griffin, or that flying horse,Or any monster to assist my course;I wish his art that mounted to the moon,In shorter journey would my job be done.Why rave I for what crack-brain'd bards devise,Or name their lewd unconscionable lies?Good river, let me find thy courtesy,Keep within bounds, and mayst thou ne'er be dry.Thou canst not think it such a mighty boast,A torrent has a gentle lover cross'd.Rivers should rather take the lover's side,Rivers themselves love's wondrous power have tried.'Twas on this score Inachus, pale and wan,Sickly and green, into the ocean ran;Long before Troy the ten-years siege did fear,Thou, Xanthus, thou Neaera's chains didst wear;Ask Achelous who his horns did drub,Straight he complains of Hercules's club.For Calydon, for all AetoliaWas then contested such outrageous fray!It neither was for gold, nor yet for fee;Dejanira, it was all for thee.E'en Nile so rich, that rolls thro' sev'n wide doors,And uppish over all his country scours,For Asop's daughter did such flame contract,As not by all that stock of water slack'd.I might a hundred goodly rivers name,But must not pass by thee, immortal Thame;Ere thou couldst Isis to thy bosom take.How didst thou wind and wander for her sake!The lusty — with broad Humber strove;Was it for fame? I say it was for love.What makes the noble Ouse up from the mainWith hideous roar come bristling back again?He thinks his dearest Dervent left behind,Or fears her false, in new embraces joined.Thee also some small girl has warm'd, we guess,Tho' woods and forests now hide thy soft place.Whilst this I speak, it swells and broader grows,And o'er the highest banks impetuous flows.Dog-flood, what art to me? or why dost checkOur mutual joys? and, churl, my journey break?What wouldst, if thee indeed some noble race,Or high descent, and glorious name did grace?When of no ancient house or certain seat,(Nor, known before this time, untimely, great)Rais'd by some sudden thaw thus high and proud,No holding thee, ill-manner'd upstart flood;Not my love-tales can make thee stay thy course,Thou—zounds, thou art a—river for a horse.Thou hadst no fountain, but from bears wert pist,From snows, and thaws, or Scotch unsav'ry mist.Thou crawl'st along, in winter foul and poor,In summer puddled like a common-shore.In all thy days when didst a courtesy?Dry traveller ne'er laid a lip to thee.The bane to cattle, to the meadows worse,For something all, I for my sufferings curse.To such unworthy wretch, how am I sham'd,That I the gen'rous am'rous river nam'd!When Nile and Achelous I display'd,And Thame and Ouse, what worm was in my headFor thy reward, discourteous river, IWish, be the summers hot, the winters dry.
Amnis harundinibus limosas obsite ripas,Ad dominam propero — siste parumper aquas!Nec tibi sunt pontes nec quae sine remigis ictuConcava traiecto cumba rudente vehat.Parvus eras, memini, nec te transire refugi,Summaque vix talos contigit unda meos.Nunc ruis adposito nivibus de monte solutisEt turpi crassas gurgite volvis aquas.Quid properasse iuvat, quid parca dedisse quietiTempora, quid nocti conseruisse diem,Si tamen hic standum est, si non datur artibus ullisUlterior nostro ripa premenda pedi?Nunc ego, quas habuit pinnas Danaeius heros,Terribili densum cum tulit angue caput,Nunc opto currum, de quo Cerealia primumSemina venerunt in rude missa solum.Prodigiosa loquor veterum mendacia vatum;Nec tulit haec umquam nec feret ulla dies.Tu potius, ripis effuse capacibus amnis —Sic aeternus eas — labere fine tuo!Non eris invidiae, torrens, mihi crede, ferendae,Si dicar per te forte retentus amans.Flumina deberent iuvenes in amore iuvare;Flumina senserunt ipsa, quid esset amor.Inachus in Melie Bithynide pallidus isseDicitur et gelidis incaluisse vadis.Nondum Troia fuit lustris obsessa duobus,Cum rapuit vultus, Xanthe, Neaera tuos.Quid? non Alpheon diversis currere terrisVirginis Arcadiae certus adegit amor?Te quoque promissam Xutho, Penee, CreusamPthiotum terris occuluisse ferunt.Quid referam Asopon, quem cepit Martia Thebe,Natarum Thebe quinque futura parens?Cornua si tua nunc ubi sint, Acheloe, requiram,Herculis irata fracta querere manu;Nec tanti Calydon nec tota Aetolia tanti,Una tamen tanti Deianira fuit.Ille fluens dives septena per ostia Nilus,Qui patriam tantae tam bene celat aquae,Fertur in Euanthe collectam Asopide flammamVincere gurgitibus non potuisse suis.Siccus ut amplecti Salmonida posset Enipeus,Cedere iussit aquam; iussa recessit aqua.Nec te praetereo, qui per cava saxa volutansTiburis Argei pomifera arva rigas,Ilia cui placuit, quamvis erat horrida cultu,Ungue notata comas, ungue notata genas.Illa gemens patruique nefas delictaque MartisErrabat nudo per loca sola pede.Hanc Anien rapidis animosus vidit ab undisRaucaque de mediis sustulit ora vadisAtque ita 'quid nostras' dixit 'teris anxia ripas,Ilia, ab Idaeo Laumedonte genus?Quo cultus abiere tui? quid sola vagaris,Vitta nec evinctas inpedit alba comas?Quid fles et madidos lacrimis corrumpis ocellosPectoraque insana plangis aperta manu?Ille habet et silices et vivum in pectore ferrum,Qui tenero lacrimas lentus in ore videt.Ilia, pone metus! tibi regia nostra patebit,Teque colent amnes. Ilia, pone metus!Tu centum aut plures inter dominabere nymphas;Nam centum aut plures flumina nostra tenent.Ne me sperne, precor, tantum, Troiana propago;Munera promissis uberiora feres.'Dixerat. illa oculos in humum deiecta modestosSpargebat teneros flebilis imbre sinus.Ter molita fugam ter ad altas restitit undas,Currendi vires eripiente metu.Sera tamen scindens inimico pollice crinemEdidit indignos ore tremente sonos:'O utinam mea lecta forent patrioque sepulcroCondita, cum poterant virginis ossa legi!Cur, modo Vestalis, taedas invitor ad ullasTurpis et Iliacis infitianda focis?Quid moror et digitis designor adultera vulgi?Desint famosus quae notet ora pudor!'Hactenus, et vestem tumidis praetendit ocellisAtque ita se in rapidas perdita misit aquas.Supposuisse manus ad pectora lubricus amnisDicitur et socii iura dedisse tori.Te quoque credibile est aliqua caluisse puella;Sed nemora et silvae crimina vestra tegunt.Dum loquor, increvit latis spatiosior undis,Nec capit admissas alveus altus aquas.Quid mecum, furiose, tibi? quid mutua differsGaudia? quid coeptum, rustice, rumpis iter?Quid? si legitimum flueres, si nobile flumen,Si tibi per terras maxima fama foret —Nomen habes nullum, rivis collecte caducis,Nec tibi sunt fontes nec tibi certa domus!Fontis habes instar pluviamque nivesque solutas,Quas tibi divitias pigra ministrat hiemps;Aut lutulentus agis brumali tempore cursus,Aut premis arentem pulverulentus humum.Quis te tum potuit sitiens haurire viator?Quis dixit grata voce 'perennis eas'?Damnosus pecori curris, damnosior agris.Forsitan haec alios; me mea damna movent.Huic ego, vae! demens narrabam fluminum amores!Iactasse indigne nomina tanta pudet.Nescio quem hunc spectans Acheloon et Inachon amnemEt potui nomen, Nile, referre tuum!At tibi pro meritis, opto, non candide torrens,Sint rapidi soles siccaque semper hiemps!
Was she not heavenly fair, and rich attir'd?Was she not that which all my soul desir'd?Yet were these arms around her idly spread,And with an useless load I press'd the bed.E'en to my wishes was the power denied,When with my wishes the kind nymph compliedI lay without life's animated spring,A dull, enervate, worthless, lumpish thing.My neck she folded with a soft embrace,Now kissed my eyes, now wanton'd o'er my face,Now lov'd to dart her humid tongue to mine,Now would her pliant limbs around me twine,And sooth, by thousand ways, the sweet design.The moving blandishments of sound she tried,And, " My dear life, my soul, my all," she cried.In vain, alas! the nerves are slacken'd still,And I prov'd only potent in my will;A poor inactive sign of man I made,And might as well for use have been a shade.If old I live, how shall I old prevail,When in my youth I thus inglorious fail?The bloom of years becomes my shameful moan,Now in full growth the ripen'd man is shown,But not the strength of man to her was known.Untouched by brothers, sisters thus retire,Or vestals rise to watch th' eternal fire;Yet many a nymph whom I forbear to name,Rave kindly yielded, and indulg'd my flameNor could the vigour of their 0vid blame.Corinna knows when numb'ring the delight,Not less than nine full transports crown'd the night.Is verse or herbs the source of present harms?Am I a captive to Thessalian charms?Has some enchantress this confusion brought,And in soft wax my tortur'd image wroughtDeep in the liver is the needle fix'd?Plagues she by numbers, or by juices mix'd?By numbers sudden the ripe harvest die,And fruitful urns no more their streams supply;Oaks shed, unshook, their acorns at the call,And the vine wonders why her clusters fall.Why may not magic act on me the same,Unstring the nerves, and quite untune the frame!Gall'd at the heart, and longing to perform,I rais'd indeed, but rais'd an empty storm;Most disappointed when the most propense,And shame was second cause of impotence.What limbs I touch'd! and only touch'd! oh, fie!Where was the blissful touch? her shift can vieIn feasts like these, and touch as well as I.Yet to touch her e'en Nestor might grow young,And centuries, like twenty-one, be strung.Such was the maid; the parallel had ranGraceful, if I could add, such was the man.Some envious deity with vengeance glow'd,So sweet a gift had been so ill bestow'd.I burn to clasp her naked in my arms,Did she not freely open all her charms?What boots good fortune, if we want the pow'rTo snatch the pleasures of the favour'd hour?I, like a miser, only could behold,And brooded o'er an useless mine of gold;So Tantalus with fruit untouch'd is curst,And dies amid the gliding stream of thirst;So rises early from th' untasted fair,The grave old prelate, and kneels down to pray'r,Were yet her melting kisses misenploy'd?Did she strive vainly to be well enjoy'd?Sure she has beauties might deaf rocks enchant,Bend the proud oak, and soften adamant;She would have mov'd a man tho' almost dead,But with my manhood the whole life was fled.If none should lend an ear, why is the song,Or painted nymphs shown to a blinded throng!Ye gods! what joys did not my fancy raise!I curl'd in folds of love a thousand ways.Strong were my thoughts, but ah! my body layLanguid as roses pluck'd off yesterday.Now all the blood the circling spirits fire,And the lost field impertinent require;Begone untimely nerves! I trust no more,Such was the promise of your strength before.Could you the fair one balk of her delight,Disgrace your master by so base a fright,And want the courage for so sweet a fight?Did she not kindly too your stay demand,And tempt it softly with a soothing hand?But when solicitings no life could gain,And inspirations, tho' from her, were vain;"Who bade thee thus thyself to me to bring!Go for a silly unperforming thing:Art thou a wretch by some curs'd spell destroy'd,Or here com'st fribbling with past pleasure cloy'd?"She spoke, and springing from the bed she flew,And secret beauties so disclos'd to view;Yet to conceal the joyless night's digrace,She called for water with a smiling face,And wash'd a nameless unpolluted place.
At non formosa est, at non bene culta puella,At, puto, non votis saepe petita meis!Hanc tamen in nullos tenui male languidus usus,Sed iacui pigro crimen onusque toro;Nec potui cupiens, pariter cupiente puella,Inguinis effeti parte iuvante frui.Illa quidem nostro subiecit eburnea colloBracchia Sithonia candidiora nive,Osculaque inseruit cupida luctantia linguaLascivum femori supposuitque femur,Et mihi blanditias dixit dominumque vocavit,Et quae praeterea publica verba iuvant.Tacta tamen veluti gelida mea membra cicutaSegnia propositum destituere meum;Truncus iners iacui, species et inutile pondus,Et non exactum, corpus an umbra forem.Quae mihi ventura est, siquidem ventura, senectus,Cum desit numeris ipsa iuventa suis?A, pudet annorum: quo me iuvenemque virumque?Nec iuvenem nec me sensit amica virum!Sic flammas aditura pias aeterna sacerdosSurgit et a caro fratre verenda soror.At nuper bis flava Chlide, ter candida Pitho,Ter Libas officio continuata meo est;Exigere a nobis angusta nocte CorinnamMe memini numeros sustinuisse novem.Num mea Thessalico languent devota venenoCorpora? num misero carmen et herba nocent,Sagave poenicea defixit nomina ceraEt medium tenuis in iecur egit acus?Carmine laesa Ceres sterilem vanescit in herbam,Deficiunt laesi carmine fontis aquae,Ilicibus glandes cantataque vitibus uvaDecidit, et nullo poma movente fluunt.Quid vetat et nervos magicas torpere per artes?Forsitan inpatiens fit latus inde meum.Huc pudor accessit: facti pudor ipse nocebat;Ille fuit vitii causa secunda mei.At qualem vidi tantum tetigique puellam!Sic etiam tunica tangitur illa sua.Illius ad tactum Pylius iuvenescere possitTithonosque annis fortior esse suis.Haec mihi contigerat; sed vir non contigit illi.Quas nunc concipiam per nova vota preces?Credo etiam magnos, quo sum tam turpiter usus,Muneris oblati paenituisse deos.Optabam certe recipi — sum nempe receptus;Oscula ferre — tuli; proximus esse — fui.Quo mihi fortunae tantum? quo regna sine usu?Quid, nisi possedi dives avarus opes?Sic aret mediis taciti vulgator in undisPomaque, quae nullo tempore tangat, habet.A tenera quisquam sic surgit mane puella,Protinus ut sanctos possit adire deos?Sed, puto, non blande, non optima perdidit in meOscula; non omni sollicitavit ope!Illa graves potuit quercus adamantaque durumSurdaque blanditiis saxa movere suis.Digna movere fuit certe vivosque virosque;Sed neque tum vixi nec vir, ut ante, fui.Quid iuvet, ad surdas si cantet Phemius aures?Quid miserum Thamyran picta tabella iuvat?At quae non tacita formavi gaudia mente!Quos ego non finxi disposuique modos!Nostra tamen iacuere velut praemortua membraTurpiter hesterna languidiora rosa —Quae nunc, ecce, vigent intempestiva valentque,Nunc opus exposcunt militiamque suam.Quin istic pudibunda iaces, pars pessima nostri?Sic sum pollicitis captus et ante tuis.Tu dominum fallis; per te deprensus inermisTristia cum magno damna pudore tuli.Hanc etiam non est mea dedignata puellaMolliter admota sollicitare manu;Sed postquam nullas consurgere posse per artesInmemoremque sui procubuisse videt,'Quid me ludis?' ait, 'quis te, male sane, iubebatInvitum nostro ponere membra toro?Aut te traiectis Aeaea venefica lanisDevovet, aut alio lassus amore venis.'Nec mora, desiluit tunica velata soluta —Et decuit nudos proripuisse pedes! —Neve suae possent intactam scire ministrae,Dedecus hoc sumpta dissimulavit aqua.