VIII.

TO CYNTHIA.

Dulcis ad hesternas fuerat mihi rixa lucernas.

SWEET was our last night's quarrel, Cynthia mine,

And taunts that from thy frenzied tongue did roll Why, love, upset the board when wild with wine, And madly hurl at me the brimming bowl?

Come, clutch my locks-be bold, thou'st nought to fear-
And with thy lovely nails my visage tear,

Threaten with uplifted torch mine eyes to sear,
My raiment rend, and strip my bosom bare.

So shalt thou prove thy love is leal and strong :
In earnest love alone thus fret the fair.

If woman bandy jeers with furious tongue,

And roll before dread Venus' feet in prayer—

Or walk with gang of wary warders near,
Or through the streets like frantic Maenad fly,
Or startle in her dreams from frequent fear,
Or at a maiden's portrait sob and sigh,—

From pangs like these I can her feelings tell;
They are sure signs of heart-felt love, I know.
The girl no insult moves thou'lt trust not well;
Heaven send an easy mistress to my foe!

Friends with unbitten neck my wounds may see;

Those livid marks my love's affection show: In love I'd grieve or else grief's witness be; 'Tis well my tears or thine, sweet one, should flow,

Whene'er thou dumbly speak'st with knitted brow;
Or writ'st with finger what thou dar'st not say;
I loathe the sleep no sigh disturbs, I trow—
Be mine in love an angry maiden aye.

Sweeter was Paris' flame, when 'mid the bands
Of warlike Greece he could his love delight;
While Argos wins, while Hector's might withstands,
In Helen's arms he courts the glorious fight.

With thee or with my rivals ceaseless war

I'll wage: no peace for me while thou art near! Rejoice no fairer maiden dims thy star:

Else wouldst thou grieve: thou'rt Queen of Beauty here.

And as for thee who wouldst my girl ensnare,

May sire-in-law and mother work thee rue : If one night's stolen bliss has been thy share,

To wrath 'gainst me, not love for thee, 'twas due.

IX.

TO MAECENAS.

Maecenas, eques Etrusco de sanguine regum.

MAECENAS, knight of regal Tuscan blood,
Content within thy fortune's limit-line,
Why bid me venture on so vast a flood?
Great sails are suited not to bark like mine.

'Tis base to take a load one cannot bear,

And, fainting 'neath it, bend the knee and yield:

All are not fitted equal fates to share :
Alone we win the palm on glory's field.

By lifelike statues rose Lysippus' name;

And Calamis in groups equestrian shone; His Venus earned Apelles deathless fame;

In smaller forms Parrhasius stands alone;

In beauty, fair the groups of Mentor shine;
Mys bends the Acanthus' tiny path with ease;
The ivory Jove of Phidias is divine;

The Parian marble claims Praxiteles;

Some wrest the palm-wreath of the Elean car;
Others by speed of foot achieve renown;
This man for peace-that born for camps and war :
Each follows still the seeds by Nature sown.

To all the rules of life laid down by thee,
My heart, Maecenas, I did well incline.
A faithful pupil thou wilt find in me,

Who thine example now must needs outshine.

Though, honoured, thou the lordly axe mayst wield;
Lay down the law within the forum's walls;
March through fell Medan spears on war's red field;
And pile up stands of armour in thy halls;

Though Caesar ever gives the ready aid,

And wealth profusely proffered never fails,Thou shrink'st and humbly seek'st the gentle shade, And with thine own hand reef'st thy bellying sails.

In this thou'lt with the great Camilli vie;
Yea, every tongue thy praises shall proclaim;
By Caesar's glory still thy path shall lie,
And loyalty, true trophy, crown thy fame.

With sails I will not cleave the swollen deep:
Safe, anchored near the tiny stream, I'll ride;
Nor o'er the smouldering walls of Cadmus weep,
Or fields with gore like-stained on either side;

Nor sing the Scaean gates, Apollo's tower,

*

And Graecia's fleet's return, ten winters o'er,
What time the wooden horse, Minerva's dower,
With Grecian ploughshare Neptune's bulwarks tore.

Enough—with sweet Callimachus to please,
And lays like thine, O Coän poet! weave;
To thrill the youth and fire the fair with these,
Be hailed divine, and homage meet receive.

* Vel tibi Medorum pugnaces ire per hastas.-(Mueller.)

But lead thou on; and I shall then make bold
To sing how erst in war Almighty Jove

With Coeus and Oromedon of old

On Phlegra's mountains for heaven's empire strove

Sing lofty Palatine where browsed the steer—

Rome's battlements made strong through Remus slain— The royal Twins the she-wolf came to rear

And loftier themes than these, shouldst thou ordain :

I'll sing our triumphs won in East and West,

The Parthian shafts back-showered in foul retreat,
Pelusium's forts by Roman steel opprest,
And Antony's self-murder in defeat.

Kind patron of my youth, take rein and go,
And, whirled away, auspicious smile on me.
This praise thou giv'st me, and to thee I owe
The fame I'll reap from emulating thee.