With no false glare Hippodamia drew

Her Phrygian lord, to reign a foreign queen; Her face no gems adorned, though fair, I ween, As e'er Apelles on the canvas threw.

No fear for lack of lovers tortured these-
Their wealth of beauty was their modesty ;
I, too, repose unwavering faith in thee:
She's rich in charms who can one lover please.

And richer thou; for Phoebus gives thee song,
And fond Calliope the Aonian lyre:

Yea, thy sweet speech my eager soul shall fire
With love for thee, my Cynthia, all life long.

Thine Beauty's charms and Wisdom's priceless prize,
The brightest jewels that adorn a wife;
With these thou'lt shed a lustre round my life,
If thou wilt wretched luxuries despise.

III.

ΤΟ CYNTHIA.

Qualis Thesea jacuit cedente carina.

As Ariadne on the lonely strand

O'erwearied slept, while Theseus sailed away; And as Andromeda, by Perseus' hand

Freed from rude rocks, in new-born slumber lay;

As Bacchant, by the ceaseless dance outworn,
Falls on Apidanus' soft marge of green,-
So with her head on feeble hands upborne

My Cynthia seemed to breathe in sleep serene.

Wine-flushed and reeling I had homeward sped,

A servant's brandished torch my midnight guide ; Nor yet had all my wandering senses fled

As I with gentlest movement sought her side.

Then Love and Bacchus, gods of iron will,

Urged me with double fire to slip my arm Beneath her as she lay so calm and still,

Kiss her sweet lips, and rifle every charm.

Yet dared I not disturb my darling's sleep,
Fearing the bitter taunts I'd learned to dread,
But gazed with steadfast eyes in wonder deep,
Like Argus scanning Io's hornèd head.

Then, sweet, I loosed the garland from my brow,
And round thy temples did a chaplet twine;
Anon thy truant locks arranged, and now

My hands the stealthy apple placed in thine.

Ungrateful sleep with all my gifts I dowered-
Gifts that oft rolled from forth thy sloping breast;
And when thou stirr'dst or heav'dst a sigh I cowered,
Fond fool! with groundless bodings sore opprest,

For fear unwonted terrors marred thy dreams,
Or tempter forced thee 'gainst thy will to yield.
Then mild-rayed Luna with officious beams

Streamed through the lattice and thine eyes unsealed.

When she on elbow rising half upright:

"Another scorns thee and thou seek'st my bed. Where hast thou wasted all my promised night, Enfeebled youth? Woe's me! the stars are fled.

"Wretch with such anguished nights mayst thou be tried
As those with which thou hast my bosom wrung.
To banish sleep my purple thread I plied,
Toil-weary then, my tuneful lyre I strung.

"As best I could my lonely lot I bore,
Grieving another's love should charm thee so,
Till downy-pinioned slumber lulled me o'er,

And bade my tears of sorrow cease to flow."

IV.

TO BASSUS.

Quid mihi tam multas laudando, Basse, puellas.

WHY, by praising to me every maiden you see,
Would you wean me from Cynthia, my friend?
And why not allow the old chain that till now
I have worn to be worn till the end?

Praise Antiope's cheek, and in ecstasy speak
Of Spartan Hermione's fame,

And maidens the rage in a beauty-famed age,-
She'll not leave them the shade of a name.

Nay, if her you compare with the commoner fair, Less chance of defeat will there be;

But her face is the least of my passionate feast— She has beauties far dearer to me.

She is warm as she's fair, in accomplishments rare,"
She's charming by day and by night;

So the more that you try our love-knot to untie,
The firmer the faith we will plight.

*

Ingenuus calor et multis decus artibus et quae

Gaudia sub tacita ducere veste libet.--(Mueller.)

Nor unpunished you'll go, for my Cynthia shall know,
And you'll find she's a tongue of her own;

She'll forbid you the door, nor inquire for you more,
And your fault she will never condone.

On your head she'll bring down all the girls in the town,
You'll be banished the homes of the fair—
Every fane she reveres she will deluge with tears,
And old stone, no odds whatlike or where.

There's no heavier blow that my Cynthia could know,
Than the loss of the love of her swain:

Oh I fervently pray she'll so love me alway,
And ne'er give me cause to complain.

V.

TO GALLUS.

Invide, tu tandem voces conpesce molestas.

PRAY, envious wretch, thy tiresome pratings cease,
And let us both pursue our path in peace.
Madman! wouldst thou my lady's temper know?
Unhappy one, wouldst court the depths of woe?
Through hidden embers heedless dash amain,
And all Thessalia's direst poisons drain?