Homer will live, whilst Tenedos stands, and I'de,

Or to the sea, fleet Symois doth slide:
And so shall Hesiod too, while vines do
bear,

Or crooked sickles crop the ripened ear;
Callimachus, though in invention low,
Shall still be sung, since he in art doth
flow.

No less shall come to Sophocles' proud vein;
With sun and moon Aratus shall remain.
While slaves be false, fathers hard, and
bawds be whorish,

While harlots flatter, shall Menander flourish.

Ennius, though rude, and Accius' highreared strain,

A fresh applause in every age shall gain. Of Varro's name, what ear shall not be told?

Of Jason's Argo, and the fleece of gold? Then, shall Lucretius' lofty numbers die, When earth, and seas in fire and flames shall fry.

Tityrus, Tillage, Eney shall be read,

Till Cupid's fires be out, and his bow broken,

Thy verses, neat Tibullus, shall be spoken. Our Gallus shall be known from East to West,

So shall Lycoris, whom he now loves best.

The suffering ploughshare or the flint may

wear,

But heavenly poesy no death can fear. Kings shall give place to it, and kingly shows,

The banks o'er which gold-bearing Tagus. flows.

Kneel hinds to trash: me let bright Phoebus swell,

With cups full flowing from the Muses" well.

The frost-drad myrtle shall impale my head,

And of sad lovers I'll be often read.

Envy the living, not the dead doth bite, For after death all men receive their right.

Quod pro gigantomachia amores scribere
sit coactus.

I, Ovid, poet, of my wantonness,
Born at Peligny, to write more address.
So Cupid wills. Far hence be the severe !
You are unapt my looser lines to hear.
Let maids whom hot desire to husbands
lead,

And rude boys, touched with unknown love, me read:

That some youth hurt, as I am, with Love's bow,

His own flame's best acquainted signs may know.

And long admiring say, 'By what means learned,

Hath this same poet my sad chance discern'd?"

I durst the great celestial battles tell, Hundred-hand Gyges, and had done it well;

With Earth's revenge, and how Olympus top

High Ossa bore, Mount Pelion up to prop; Jove and Jove's thunderbolts I had in hand, Which for his heaven fell on the giants' band.

My wench her door shut, Jove's affairs I left,

Even Jove himself out of my wit was reft. Pardon me, Jove! thy weapons aid me nought,

Her shut gates greater lightning than thine brought.

Toys and light elegies my darts I took, Quickly soft words hard doors wide-open strook.

Verses reduce the hornèd bloody moon, And call the sun's white horses back at

noon.

Snakes leap by verse from caves of broken mountains,

And turned streams run backward to their fountains.

Verses ope doors; and locks put in the post,

Although of oak, to yield to verses boast; What helps it me of fierce Achill to sing What good to me will either Ajax bring?

Or he who warred and wandered twenty year?

Or woful Hector whom wild horses tear?
But when I praise a pretty wench's face,
She in requital doth me oft embrace.
A great reward! Heroes of famous names
Farewell! your favour naught my mind in-
flames.

Wenches apply your fair looks to my verse.
Which golden Love doth unto me rehearse.

ELEGIA II.

Ad Bagoum, ut custodiam puellæ sibi commissæ laxiorem habeat.

Bagous, whose care doth thy mistress bridle, While I speak some few, yet fit words, be idle.

I saw the damsel walking yesterday, There, where the porch doth Danaus' fact display:

She pleased me soon, I sent, and did her Woo,

Her trembling hand writ back she might not do.

And asking why, this answer she redoubled, Because thy care too much thy mistress troubled.

Keeper, if thou be wise, cease hate to cherish,

Believe me, whom we fear, we wish to perish.

Nor is her husband wise: what needs defence,

When unprotected there is no expense?
But furiously he follow his love's fire,
And thinks her chaste whom many do
desire:

Stolen liberty she may by thee obtain,
Which giving her, she may give thee again:
Wilt thou her fault learn? she may make
thee tremble.

Fear to be guilty, then thou may'st dissemble.

Think when she reads, her mother letters sent her:

Let him go forth known, that unknown did

enter.

Let him go see her though she do not languish,

And then report her sick and full of anguish.

If long she stays, to think the time more short,

Lay down thy forehead in thy lap to snort. Enquire not what with Isis may be done, Nor fear lest she to the theatres run. Knowing her scapes, thine honour shall in

crease;

And what less labour than to hold thy peace?

Let him please, haunt the house, be kindly used,

Enjoy the wench; let all else be refused. Vain causes feign of him, the true to hide, And what she likes, let both hold ratified. When most her husband bends the brows and frowns,

His fawning wench with her desire he

crowns.

But yet sometimes to chide thee let her fall Counterfeit tears: and thee lewd hangman call.

Object thou then, what she may well excuse, To stain all faith in truth, by false crimes'

use.

Of wealth and honour so shall grow thy heap:

Do this, and soon thou shalt thy freedom

reap.

On tell-tales' necks thou seest the link-knit chains,

The filthy prison faithless breasts restrains.
Water in waters, and fruit flying touch
Tantalus seeks, his long tongue's gain is
such.

While Juno's watchman Iö too much eyed,
Him timeless death took, she was deified.
I saw one's legs with fetters black and blue,
By whom the husband his wife's incest
knew:

More he deserved; to both great harm he framed,

The man did grieve, the woman was defamed.

Trust me all husbands for such faults are sad, Nor make they any man that hears them glad.

If he loves not, deaf ears thou dost importune,

Or if he loves, thy tale breeds his misfortune. Nor is it easy proved though manifest, She safe by favour of her judge doth rest. Though himself see, he'll credit her denial, Condemn his eyes, and say there is no trial. Spying his mistress' tears, he will lament And say "This blab shall suffer punishment." Why fight'st 'gainst odds? to thee, being cast, do hap

Sharp stripes; she sitteth in the judge's lap.

To meet for poison or vile facts we crave not;

My hands an unsheathed shining weapon have not.

We seek that, through thee, safely love we may;

What can be easier than the thing we pray?

ELEGIA III.

Ad Eunuchum servantem dominam.

Ah me,

an eunuch keeps my mistress chaste,

That cannot Venus' mutual pleasure taste. Who first deprived young boys of their best part,

With self-same wounds he gave, he ought to smart.

To kind requests thou would'st more gentle prove,

If ever wench had made lukewarm thy love: Thou wert not born to ride, or arms to bear,

Thy hands agree not with the warlike spear. Men handle those ; all manly hopes resign, Thy mistress' ensigns must be likewise thine.

Please her-her hate makes others thee abhor,

If she discards thee, what use serv'st thou for?

Good form there is, years apt to play together:

Unmeet is beauty without use to wither. She may deceive thee, though thou her protect,

What two determine never wants effect. Our prayers move thee to assist our drift, While thou hast time yet to bestow that gift.

ELEGIA IV.

Quod amet mulieres, cujuscunque formæ sint.
I mean not to defend the scapes of any,
Or justify my vices being many;
For I confess, if that might merit favour,
Here I display my lewd and loose behaviour.
I loathe, yet after that I loathe I run:
Oh, how the burthen irks, that we should
shun.

I cannot rule myself but where love please
And driven like a ship upon rough seas,
No one face likes me best, all faces move,
A hundred reasons make me ever love.
If any eye me with a modest lock,

I blush, and by that blushful glance am took;

And she that's coy I like, for being no clown,

Methinks she would be nimble when she's down.

Though her sour looks a Sabine's brow resemble,

I think she'll do, but deeply can dissemble. If she be learned, then for her skill I crave her,

If not, because she's simple I would have her. Before Callimachus one prefers me far; Seeing she likes my books, why should we jar?

Another rails at me, and that I write,

Yet would I lie with her, if that I might: Trips she, it likes me well; plods she, what then ?

She would be nimbler lying with a man. And when one sweetly sings, then straight I long,

To quaver on her lips even in her song; Or if one touch the lute with art and cunning,

Who would not love those hands for their swift running?

And her I like that with a majesty,
Folds up her arms, and makes low courtesy.
To leave myself, that am in love with all,
Some one of these might make the chastest
fall.

If she be tall, she's like an Amazon,

And therefore fills the bed she lies upon :
If short, she lies the rounder, to say troth,
But short and long please me, for I love
both.

I think what one undecked would be, being drest;

Is she attired? then show her graces best. A white wench thralls me, so doth golden yellow;

And nut-brown girls in doing have no fellow.

If her white neck be shadowed with brown hair,

Why so was Leda's, yet was Leda fair. Amber-tress'd is she? then on the morn think I :

My love alludes to every history:

A young wench pleaseth, and an old is good,
This for her looks, that for her womanhood:
Nay what is she, that any Roman loves,
But my ambitious ranging mind approves?

ELEGIA V.

Ad amicam corruptam.

No love is so dear,-quivered Cupid fly!That my chief wish should be so oft to die.

Minding thy fault, with death I wish to revel;

Alas! a wench is a perpetual evil.
No intercepted lines thy deeds display,
No gifts given secretly thy crime bewray.
O would my proofs as vain might be with-
stood!

Ah me, poor soul, why is my cause so good?

He's happy, that his love dares boldly credit;

To whom his wench can say, "I never did it."

He's cruel, and too much his grief doth favour,

That seeks the conquest by her loose behaviour.

Poor wench, I saw when thou didst think I slumbered;

Not drunk, your faults on the spilt wine I numbered.

I saw your nodding eyebrows much to speak,

Even from your cheeks, part of a voice did break.

Not silent were thine eyes, the board with wine

Was scribbled, and thy fingers writ a line. I knew your speech (what do not lovers see?)

And words that seemed for certain marks to be.

Now many guests were gone, the feast being done,

The youthful sort to divers pastimes run. I saw you then unlawful kisses join; (Such with my tongue it likes me to purloin),

None such the sister gives her brother grave, But such kind wenches let their lovers have. Phoebus gave not Diana such, 'tis thought, But Venus often to her Mars such brought. "What dost?" I cried; "transport'st thou my delight?

My lordly hands I'll throw upon my right.
Such bliss is only common to us two,
In this sweet good why hath a third to do?"
This, and what grief enforced me say, I
said:

A scarlet blush her guilty face arrayed;
Even such as by Aurora hath the sky,
Or maids that their betrothèd husbands
spy;

Such as a rose mixed with a lily breeds, Or when the moon travails with charmed steeds.

Or such as, lest long years should turn the dye,

Arachne stains Assyrian ivory.

To these, or some of these, like was her colour:

By chance her beauty never shinèd fuller. She viewed the earth? the earth to view, beseemed her.

She looked sad; sad, comely I esteemed her. Even kembed as they were, her locks to rend,

And scratch her fair soft cheeks I did intend. Seeing her face, mine upreared arms descended,

With her own armour was my wench defended.

I, that erewhile was fierce, now humbly sue, Lest with worse kisses she should me endue. She laughed, and kissed so sweetly as might make

Wrath-kindled Jove away his thunder shake. I grieve lest others should such good perceive,

And wish hereby them all unknown to leave.

Also much better were they than I tell,

And ever seemed as some new sweet befel. 'Tis ill they pleased so much, for in my lips Lay her whole tongue hid, mine in hers she dips.

This grieves me not; no joinèd kisses spent, Bewail I only, though I them lament. Nowhere can they be taught but in the bed; I know no master of so great hire sped.

But what availed this faith? her rarest hue? Or voice that how to change the wild notes knew?

What helps it thou wert given to please my wench?

Birds' hapless glory, death thy life doth quench.

Thou with thy quills might'st make green emeralds dark,

And pass our scarlet of red saffron's mark. No such voice-feigning bird was on the ground,

Thou spok'st thy words so well with stammering sound.

Envy hath rapt thee, no fierce wars thou mov'dst.

Vain-babbling speech, and pleasant peace thou lov'dst.

Behold how quails among their battles live, Which do perchance old age unto them give.

A little filled thee, and for love of talk, Thy mouth to taste of many meats did balk.

Nuts were thy food, and poppy caused thee sleep,

Pure water's moisture thirst away did keep. The ravenous vulture lives, the puttock

hovers

Around the air, the cadess rain discovers. And crow survives arms-bearing Pallas' hate. Whose life nine ages scarce bring out of date.

Dead is that speaking image of man's voice, The parrot given me, the far world's best.

choice.

The greedy spirits take the best things first,
Supplying their void places with the worst.
Thersites did Protesilaus survive;
And Hector died, his brothers yet alive.
My wench's vows for thee why should I
show,

Which stormy south winds into sea did blow?

The seventh day came, none following might'st thou see,

And the Fate's distaff empty stood to thee: Yet words in thy benumbed palate rung, "Farewell Corinna," cried thy dying tongue. Elysium hath a wood of holm-trees black, Whose earth doth not perpetual green grass lack,

There good birds rest (if we believe things hidden)

Whence unclean fowls are said to be forbidden.

There harmless swans feed all abroad the river;

There lives the phoenix, one alone bird ever;