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The Last Lion: Winston Spencer Churchill, Volume 3: Defender of the Realm, 1940-1965

Instances how Greatness of Manner affects the Imagination. A French Author's Observation on this Subject. The Secondary Pleasures of the Imagination. The Final Cause of our receiving Pleasure from these several Sources. Of Descriptions in particular. The Power of Words over the Imagination. Why one Reader more pleased with Descriptions than another. A Natural Cause assigned for it. How to perfect the Imagination of a Writer.

Who among the Ancient Poets had this Faculty in its greatest Perfection. Our own Country-man Milton very perfect in all three respects. Why any thing that is unpleasant to behold, pleases the Imagination when well described. The Pleasure still heightned, if—what is described raises Passion in the Mind. Disagreeable Passions pleasing when raised by apt Descriptions.

Why Terror and Grief are pleasing to the Mind when excited by Descriptions. What Liberties are allowed them. Of that kind of Poetry which Mr. Dryden calls the Fairy Way of Writing. How a Poet should be Qualified for it. The Pleasures of the Imagination that arise from it.

In this respect why the Moderns excell the Ancients. Why the English excell the Moderns. Who the Best among the English. Of Emblematical Persons. What Authors please the Imagination who have nothing to do with Fiction. How History pleases the Imagination. How the Authors of the new Philosophy please the Imagination. The Bounds and Defects of the Imagination.

Whether these Defects are Essential to the Imagination. How those please the Imagination who treat of Subjects abstracted from Matter, by Allusions taken from it. What Allusions most pleasing to the Imagination. Great Writers how Faulty in this Respect. Of the Art of Imagining in General. The Imagination capable of Pain as well as Pleasure. In what Degree the Imagination is capable either of Pain or Pleasure. But thou canst read it there. Eternity's too short To utter all thy Praise. Smooth speeches, Fear and Rage shall by thee ride, Which troops have always been on Cupid's side; Thou with these soldiers conquer'st gods and men, Take these away, where is thine honour then?

Thy mother shall from heaven applaud this show, And on their faces heaps of roses strow: 40 With beauty of thy wings, thy fair hair gilded, 1 Ride golden Love in chariots richly builded!


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Unless I err, full many shalt thou burn, And give wounds infinite at every turn. In spite of thee, forth will thine arrows fly, A scorching flame burns all the standers by. Edition: current; Page: [ ] So, having conquered Inde, was Bacchus' hue: Thee pompous birds, and him two tigers, drew; Then seeing I grace thy show in following thee, Forbear to hurt thyself in spoiling me. Elegia III. Ad amicam. I ask but right, let her that caught me late, Either love, or cause that I may never hate; I crave 3 too much—would she but let me love her Jove knows with such-like prayers I daily move her.

Accept him that will serve thee all his youth, Accept him that will love with spotless truth. If lofty titles cannot make 4 me thine, That am descended but of knightly line, Soon may you plough the little land I have; I gladly grant my parents given to save; 5 10 Apollo, Bacchus, and the Muses may; And Cupid who hath marked me for thy prey; My spotless life, which but to gods gives place, Naked simplicity, and modest grace. I love but one, and her I love change never; If men have faith, I'll live with thee for ever. Edition: current; Page: [ ] The years that fatal Destiny shall give I'll live with thee, and die ere thou shalt grieve.

Be thou the happy subject of my books That I may write things worthy thy fair looks. So likewise we will through the world be rung And with my name shall thine be always sung. Elegia IV. Thy husband to a banquet goes with me; Pray God it may his latest supper be! Shall I sit gazing as a bashful guest, While others touch the damsel I love best? Wilt lying under him, his bosom clip? About thy neck shall he at pleasure skip? Marvel not, though the fair bride did incite The drunken Centaurs to a sudden fight. I am no half horse, nor in woods I dwell, Yet scarce my hands from thee contain I well.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] Before thy husband come, though I not see What may be done, yet there before him be. Lie with him gently, when his limbs he spread Upon the bed; but on my foot first tread. View me, my becks, and speaking countenance; Take, and return 1 each secret amorous glance. Words without voice shall on my eyebrows sit, Lines thou shalt read in wine by my hand writ.

If aught of me thou speak'st in inward thought, Let thy soft finger to thy ear be brought. When I, my light, do or say aught that please thee, Turn round thy gold ring, as it were to ease thee. Strike on the board like them that pray for evil, When thou dost wish thy husband at the devil. If he gives thee what first himself did taste, Even in his face his offered gobbets 4 cast. Let not thy neck by his vile arms be prest, Nor lean thy soft head on his boisterous breast.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] Thy bosom's roseate buds let him not finger, Chiefly on thy lips let not his lips linger; If thou givest kisses, I shall all disclose, 1 Say they are mine, and hands on thee impose. Mingle not thighs, nor to his leg join thine, Nor thy soft foot with his hard foot combine. I have been wanton, therefore am perplexed, And with mistrust of the like measure vexed. I and my wench oft under clothes did lurk, When pleasure moved us to our sweetest work. Do not thou so; but throw thy mantle hence, Lest I should think thee guilty of offence.

When to go homewards we rise all along Have care to walk in middle of the throng. There will I find thee or be found by thee, There touch whatever thou canst touch of me. Ay me! I warn what profits some few hours! But we must part, when heaven with black night lours. Constrained against thy will give it the peasant, Forbear sweet words, and be your sport unpleasant. To him I pray it no delight may bring, Or if it do, to thee no joy thence spring.

But, though this night thy fortune be to try it, To me to-morrow constantly deny 1 it. Elegia V. In summer's heat, and mid-time of the day, To rest my limbs upon a bed I lay; One window shut, the other open stood, Which gave such light as twinkles in a wood, Like twilight glimpse at setting of the sun, Or night being past, and yet not day begun; Such light to shamefaced maidens must be shown Where they may sport, and seem to be unknown: Then came Corinna in a long loose gown, Her white neck hid with tresses hanging down, 10 Resembling fair Semiramis going to bed, Or Lais of a thousand wooers sped.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] Stark naked as she stood before mine eye, Not one wen in her body could I spy. What arms and shoulders did I touch and see! How apt her breasts were to be pressed by me! To leave the rest, all liked me passing well; I clinged her naked 1 body, down she fell: Judge you the rest; being tired she bade me kiss; Jove send me more such afternoons as this!

Elegia VI. Little I ask, a little entrance make, The gate half-ope my bent side in will take. Long love my body to such use make[s] slender, And to get out doth like apt members render. Thee fear I too much: only thee I flatter: Thy lightning can my life in pieces batter. Why enviest me? When thou stood'st naked ready to be beat, For thee I did thy mistress fair entreat.

Gratis thou mayest be free; give like for like; Night goes away: the door's bar backward strike. Strike; so again hard chains shall bind thee never, Nor servile water shalt thou drink for ever. Hard-hearted porter, dost and wilt not hear? With stiff oak propped the gate doth still appear. Strike back the bar, night fast away doth go. Although I would, I cannot him cashier, Before I be divided from my gear.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] Who fears these arms? Night runs away; with open entrance greet them. Well I remember, when I first did hire thee, Watching till after midnight did not tire thee. But now perchance thy wench with thee doth rest: Ah, how thy lot is above my lot blest! Though it be so, shut me not out therefore; Night goes away: I pray thee ope the door. Err we? If Boreas bears 2 Orithyia's rape in mind, Come break these deaf doors with thy boisterous wind. Silent the city is: night's dewy host 3 March fast away: the bar strike from the post; Or I more stern than fire or sword will turn, And with my brand these gorgeous houses burn.

Night, love, and wine to all extremes persuade: Night, shameless wine, and love are fearless made. Edition: current; Page: [ ] No pretty wench's keeper may'st thou be, The careful prison is more meet for thee. Now frosty night her flight begins to take, And crowing cocks poor souls to work awake. But thou, my crown, from sad hairs ta'en away, On this hard threshold till the morning lay. That when my mistress there beholds thee cast, She may perceive how we the time did waste. Careless, farewell, with my fault not distained! Elegia VII. For rage against my wench moved my rash arm; My mistress weeps whom my mad hand did harm.

I might have then my parents dear misused, Or holy gods with cruel strokes abused. Why, Ajax, master of the seven-fold shield, Butchered the flocks he found in spacious field. And he who on his mother venged his ire, Against the Destinies durst sharp 3 darts require. So fair she was, Atalanta she resembled, Before whose bow th' Arcadian wild beasts trembled. Such Ariadne was, when she bewails, Her perjured Theseus' flying vows and sails.

So, chaste Minerva, did Cassandra fall Deflowered 1 except within thy temple wall. That I was mad and barbarous all men cried: She nothing said; pale fear her tongue had tied. Would of mine arms my shoulders had been scanted! Better I could part of myself have wanted. To mine own self have I had strength so furious, And to myself could I be so injurious? Punished I am, if I a Roman beat: Over my mistress is my right more great?

Yet he harmed less; whom I professed to love I harmed: a foe did Diomede's anger move. Go now, thou conqueror, glorious triumphs raise, Pay vows to Jove; engirt thy hairs with bays. Let the sad captive foremost, with locks spread On her white neck, but for hurt cheeks, 1 be led. But, though I like a swelling flood was driven, And as a prey unto blind anger given, Was't not enough the fearful wench to chide?

Nor thunder, in rough threatenings, haughty pride? Nor shamefully her coat pull o'er her crown, Which to her waist her girdle still kept down? But cruelly her tresses having rent, My nails to scratch her lovely cheeks I bent. Her half-dead joints, and trembling limbs I saw, Like poplar leaves blown with a stormy flaw. Or slender ears, with gentle zephyr shaken, Or waters' tops with the warm south-wind taken. And down her cheeks, the trickling tears did flow, Like water gushing from consuming snow. Then first I did perceive I had offended; My blood the tears were that from her descended.

Elegia VIII. There is—whoe'er will know a bawd aright, Give ear—there is an old trot Dipsas hight. When she will, clouds the darkened heaven obscure, When she will, day shines everywhere most pure. Fame saith as I suspect; and in her eyes, Two eyeballs shine, and double light thence flies. Great grandsires from their ancient graves she chides, And with long charms the solid earth divides. She draws chaste women to incontinence, Nor doth her tongue want harmful eloquence. And why should'st not please? As thou art fair, would thou wert fortunate! Wert thou rich, poor should not be my state.

Such is his form as may with thine compare, Would he not buy thee, thou for him should'st care. When on thy lap thine eyes thou dost deject, Each one according to his gifts respect. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Perhaps the Sabines rude, when Tatius reigned To yield their love to more than one disdained. Fair women play; she's chaste whom none will have, Or, but for bashfulness, herself would crave.

Shake off these wrinkles that thy front assault; Wrinkles in beauty is a grievous fault. Penelope in bows her youths' strength tried, Of horn the bow was that approved 1 their side. Time flying slides hence closely, and deceives us, And with swift horses the swift year 2 soon leaves us. Beauty, not exercised, with age is spent, Nor one or two men are sufficient. Many to rob is more sure, and less hateful; From dog-kept flocks come preys to wolves most grateful.

Behold, what gives the poet but new verses? And thereof many thousand he rehearses. The poet's god, arrayed in robes of gold, Of his gilt harp the well-tuned strings doth hold. Nor, so thou may'st obtain a wealthy prize, The vain name of inferior slaves despise. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Nor let the arms of ancient lines 1 beguile thee; Poor lover, with thy grandsires I exile thee. Who seeks, for being fair, a night to have, What he will give, with greater instance crave. Make a small price, while thou thy nets dost lay; Lest they should fly; being ta'en, the tyrant play.

Deny him oft; feign now thy head doth ache: And Isis now will show what 'scuse to make. Receive him soon, lest patient use he gain, Or lest his love oft beaten back should wane. To beggars shut, to bringers ope thy gate; Let him within hear barred-out lovers prate. Nor, if thou cozenest one, dread to forswear; Venus to mocked men lends a senseless ear. Servants fit for thy purpose thou must hire, To teach thy lover what thy thoughts desire. Let them ask somewhat; many asking little, Within a while great heaps grow of a tittle.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] When causes fail thee to require a gift By keeping of thy birth, make but a shift. Beware lest he, unrivalled, loves secure; Take strife away, love doth not well endure. On all the bed men's tumbling 1 let him view, And thy neck with lascivious marks made blue. Chiefly show him the gifts which others send: If he gives nothing, let him from thee wend. Let thy tongue flatter, while thy mind harm works; Under sweet honey deadly poison lurks.

The gods send thee no house, a poor old age, Perpetual thirst, and winter's lasting rage. Elegia IX 3 Ad Atticum, amantem non oportere desidiosum esse, sicuti nec militem. All lovers war, and Cupid hath his tent; Attic, all lovers are to war far sent. Edition: current; Page: [ ] What age fits Mars, with Venus doth agree; 'Tis shame for eld in war or love to be. What years in soldiers captains do require, Those in their lovers pretty maids desire. Both of them watch: each on the hard earth sleeps: His mistress' door this, that his captain's keeps.

Soldiers must travel far: the wench forth send, 1 Her valiant lover follows without end. Going to sea, east winds he doth not chide, Nor to hoist sail attends fit time and tide. Who but a soldier or a lover's bold To suffer storm-mixed snows with night's sharp cold? One as a spy doth to his enemies go, The other eyes his rival as his foe. He cities great, this thresholds lies before: This breaks town-gates, but he his mistress' door.

So the fierce troops of Thracian Rhesus fell, And captive horses bade their lord farewell. Sooth, 3 lovers watch till sleep the husband charms, Who slumbering, they rise up in swelling arms. The keepers' hands 4 and corps-du-gard to pass, The soldier's, and poor lover's work e'er was. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Doubtful is war and love; the vanquished rise, And who thou never think'st should fall, down lies. Achilles burned, Briseis being ta'en away; Trojans destroy the Greek wealth, while you may.

Hector to arms went from his wife's embraces, And on Andromache 1 his helmet laces. Great Agamemnon was, men say, amazed, On Priam's loose-trest daughter when he gazed. Mars in the deed the blacksmith's net did stable; In heaven was never more notorious fable. A fair maid's care expelled this sluggishness, And to her tents willed me myself address.

Since may'st thou see me watch and night-wars move: He that will not grow slothful, let him love. Such as the cause was of two husbands' war, Whom Trojan ships fetch'd from Europa far, Such as was Leda, whom the god deluded In snow-white plumes of a false swan included. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Such as Amymone through the dry fields strayed, When on her head a water pitcher laid; Such wert thou, and I feared the bull and eagle, And whate'er Love made Jove, should thee inveigle. Now all fear with my mind's hot love abates: No more this beauty mine eyes captivates.

While thou wert plain 1 I loved thy mind and face: Now inward faults thy outward form disgrace. Love is a naked boy, his years saunce 2 stain, And hath no clothes, but open doth remain. Will you for gain have Cupid sell himself? He hath no bosom where to hide base pelf. Love 3 and Love's son are with fierce arms at 4 odds; To serve for pay beseems not wanton gods. Yet greedy bawd's command she curseth still, And doth, constrained, what you do of goodwill.

Take from irrational beasts a precedent; 'Tis shame their wits should be more excellent. The mare asks not the horse, the cow the bull, Nor the mild ewe gifts from the ram doth pull. Only a woman gets spoils from a man, Farms out herself on nights for what she can; 30 Edition: current; Page: [ ] And lets 1 what both delight, what both desire, Making her joy according to her hire. The sport being such, as both alike sweet try it, Why should one sell it and the other buy it? Why should I lose, and thou gain by the pleasure, Which man and woman reap in equal measure? Knights of the post 2 of perjuries make sale, The unjust judge for bribes becomes a stale.

Thanks worthily are due for things unbought; For beds ill-hired we are indebted nought. The hirer payeth all; his rent discharged, From further duty he rests then enlarged. Fair dames, forbear rewards for nights to crave: Ill-gotten goods good end will never have. The Sabine gauntlets were too dearly won, That unto death did press the holy nun. Yet think no scorn to ask a wealthy churl; He wants no gifts into thy lap to hurl. Take clustered grapes from an o'er-laden vine, May 4 bounteous love 5 Alcinous' fruit resign.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] Let poor men show their service, faith and care; All for their mistress, what they have, prepare. In verse to praise kind wenches 'tis my part, And whom I like eternise by mine art. To give I love, but to be asked disdain; Leave asking, and I'll give what I refrain. Elegia XI. And to give signs dull wit to thee is odious. Receive these lines; them to my mistress carry: Be sedulous; let no stay cause thee tarry, Nor flint nor iron are in thy soft breast, But pure simplicity in thee doth rest.

Defend the ensigns of thy war in me. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Time passeth while I speak; give her my writ, But see that forthwith she peruseth it. I charge thee mark her eyes in front in reading: By speechless looks we guess at things succeeding. Straight being read, will her to write much back, I hate fair paper should writ matter lack.

What needs she tire 1 her hand to hold the quill? Then with triumphant laurel will I grace them And in the midst of Venus' temple place them, Subscribing, that to her I consecrate My faithful tables, being vile maple late. Elegia XII. Bewail my chance: the sad book is returned, This day denial hath my sport adjourned. Going out again, pass forth the door more wisely, And somewhat higher bear thy foot precisely. Hence luckless tables! And thou, the wax, stuffed full with notes denying!

Edition: current; Page: [ ] Which I think gathered from cold hemlock's flower, Wherein bad honey Corsic bees did pour: 10 Yet as if mixed with red lead thou wert ruddy, That colour rightly did appear so bloody. As evil wood, thrown in the highways, lie, Be broke with wheels of chariots passing by! And him that hewed you out for needful uses, I'll prove had hands impure with all abuses. Poor wretches on the tree themselves did strangle: There sat the hangman for men's necks to angle.

To hoarse scrich-owls foul shadows it allows; Vultures and Furies 1 nestled in the boughs. More fitly had they 2 wrangling bonds contained From barbarous lips of some attorney strained. Among day-books and bills they had lain better, In which the merchant wails his bankrupt debtor Your name approves you made for such-like things, The number two no good divining brings. Angry, I pray that rotten age you racks, And sluttish white-mould overgrow the wax. Elegia XIII. Ad Auroram ne properet. Now o'er the sea from her old love comes she That draws the day from heaven's cold axletree. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Aurora, whither slid'st thou?

And birds for 1 Memnon yearly shall be slain. Now in her tender arms I sweetly bide, If ever, now well lies she by my side. The air is cold, and sleep is sweetest now, And birds send forth shrill notes from every bough. Whither runn'st thou, that men and women love not? Hold in thy rosy horses that they move not. Poor travellers though tired, rise at thy sight, And 2 soldiers make them ready to the fight. The painful hind by thee to field is sent; Slow oxen early in the yoke are pent.

Thou coz'nest boys of sleep, and dost betray them To pedants that with cruel lashes pay them. Thou mak'st the surety to the lawyer run, That with one word hath nigh himself undone. By thy means women of their rest are barred, Thou settst their labouring hands to spin and card. All 3 could I bear; but that the wench should rise, Who can endure, save him with whom none lies? How oft wished I night would not give thee place, Nor morning stars shun thy uprising face! Edition: current; Page: [ ] How oft that either wind would break thy coach, Or steeds might fall, forced with thick clouds' approach!

Memnon the elf Received his coal-black colour from thyself. Say that thy love with Cephalus were not known, Then thinkest thou thy loose life is not shown? Would Tithon might but talk of thee awhile! Not one in heaven should be more base and vile. The moon sleeps with Endymion every day; Thou art as fair as she, then kiss and play. Jove, that thou should'st not haste but wait his leisure, Made two nights one to finish up his pleasure.

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I chid 3 no more; she blushed, and therefore heard me, Yet lingered not the day, but morning scared me. Elegia XIV. Leave colouring thy tresses, I did cry; Now hast thou left no hairs at all to dye. Edition: current; Page: [ ] But what had been more fair had they been kept? Beyond thy robes thy dangling locks had swept.

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Fear'dst thou to dress them being fine and thin, Like to the silk the curious 1 Seres spin. Or threads which spider's slender foot draws out, Fastening her light web some old beam about? Not black nor golden were they to our view, Yet although [n]either, mixed of either's hue; 10 Such as in hilly Ida's watery plains, The cedar tall, spoiled of his bark, retains. Add 2 they were apt to curl a hundred ways, And did to thee no cause of dolour raise.

Nor hath the needle, or the comb's teeth reft them, The maid that kembed them ever safely left them. Oft was she dressed before mine eyes, yet never, Snatching the comb to beat the wench, outdrive her. Oft in the morn, her hairs not yet digested, Half-sleeping on a purple bed she rested; 20 Yet seemly like a Thracian Bacchanal, That tired doth rashly 3 on the green grass fall.

When they were slender and like downy moss, Thy 4 troubled hairs, alas, endured great loss. Far off be force, no fire to them may reach, Thy very hairs will the hot bodkin teach. Such were they as Diana 1 painted stands, All naked holding in her wave-moist hands. Why dost thy ill-kembed tresses' loss lament? Why in thy glass dost look, being discontent? Be not to see with wonted eyes inclined; To please thyself, thyself put out of mind. By thine own hand and fault thy hurt doth grow, Thou mad'st thy head with compound poison flow.

Now Germany shall captive hair-tires send thee, And vanquished people curious dressings lend thee. Which some admiring, O thou oft wilt blush! Edition: current; Page: [ ] She holds, and views her old locks in her lap; Ay me! Cheer up thyself, thy loss thou may'st repair, And be hereafter seen with native hair. Elegia XV. Ad invidos, quod fama poetarum sit perennis. Envy, why carp'st thou my time's spent so ill? And term'st 1 my works fruits of an idle quill?

Or that unlike the line from whence I sprung 2 War's dusty honours are refused being young? Nor that I study not the brawling laws, Nor set my voice to sail in every cause? Thy scope is mortal; mine, eternal fame. That all the world may 3 ever chant my name. Homer shall live while Tenedos stands and Ide, Or to 4 the sea swift Simois shall 5 slide.

The 6 world shall of Callimachus ever speak; His art excelled, although his wit was weak. For ever lasts high Sophocles' proud vein; With sun and moon Aratus shall remain. Edition: current; Page: [ ] While bondmen cheat, fathers [be] hard, 1 bawds whorish, And strumpets flatter, shall Menander flourish. Rude Ennius, and Plautus 2 full of wit, Are both in Fame's eternal legend writ. Lofty Lucretius shall live that hour, That nature shall dissolve this earthly bower. Till Cupid's bow, and fiery shafts be broken, Thy verses, sweet Tibullus, shall be spoken.

To 5 verse let kings give place and kingly shows, The banks o'er which gold-bearing Tagus flows. About my head be quivering myrtle wound, And in sad lovers' heads let me be found. The living, not the dead, can envy bite, For after death all men receive their right. And call'st my verse fruits of an idle quill? Or that unlike the line from whence I sprung War's dusty honours I pursue not young? Or that I study not the tedious laws; And prostitute my voice in every cause? Callimachus, though in invention low, Shall still be sung, since he in art doth flow; No loss shall come to Sophocles' proud vein; With sun and moon Aratus shall remain.

Whilst slaves be false, fathers hard, and bawds be whorish. Whilst harlots flatter, shall Menander flourish. Ennius, though rude, and Accius' high-reared strain, A fresh applause in every age shall gain. 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. Till Cupid's fires be out, and his bow broken, Thy verses, neat Tibullus, shall be spoken.

Kings shall give place to it, and kingly shows, The banks o'er which gold-bearing Tagus flows. The frost-drad 2 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. Elegia I. I, Ovid, poet, of my 2 wantonness, Born at Peligny, to write more address. So Cupid wills. Far hence be the severe! You are unapt my looser lines to hear. My wench her door shut, Jove's affairs I left, Even Jove himself out of my wit was reft. Pardon me, Jove! 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 woful Hector whom wild jades did tear? But when I praise a pretty wench's face, She in requital doth me oft embrace. A great reward! Heroes of 4 famous names, Farewell! Wenches apply your fair looks to my verse, Which golden Love doth unto me rehearse.

I saw the damsel walking yesterday, There, where the porch doth Danaus' fact 3 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. But furiously he follow 5 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?

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. If long she stays, to think the time more short, Lay down thy forehead in thy lap to snort. Knowing her scapes, thine honour shall increase; 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. 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. Water in waters, and fruit, flying touch, Tantalus seeks, his long tongue's gain is such. Edition: current; Page: [ ] I saw one's legs with fetters black and blue, By whom the husband his wife's incest 1 knew: More he deserved; to both great harm he framed, The man did grieve, the woman was defamed.

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. To meet for poison or vild facts 2 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?

Ay me, an eunuch keeps my mistress chaste, That cannot Venus' mutual pleasure taste. Edition: current; Page: [ ] 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. 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. I mean not to defend the scapes 1 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 2 shun. Edition: current; Page: [ ] I cannot rule myself but where Love please; Am 1 driven like a ship upon rough seas.

No one face likes me best, all faces move, A hundred reasons make me ever love. 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? 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 4 for their swift running?

And her I like that with a majesty, Folds up her arms, and makes low courtesy. If she be tall, she's like an Amazon, And therefore fills the bed she lies upon: If short, she lies the rounder: to speak 2 troth, Both short and long please me, for I love both, I 3 think what one undecked would be, being drest; Is she attired? A white wench thralls me, so doth golden yellow: And nut-brown girls in doing have no fellow.

Amber-tress'd 4 is she? No love is so dear,—quivered Cupid, fly! Edition: current; Page: [ ] Minding thy fault, with death I wish to revel; Alas! No intercepted lines thy deeds display, No gifts given secretly thy crime bewray. O would my proofs as vain might be withstood! Ay me, poor soul, why is my cause so good? Poor wretch, 1 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. 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. My lordly hands I'll throw upon my right. Or such as, lest long years should turn the dye, Arachne 1 stains Assyrian ivory. 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. Edition: current; Page: [ ] I grieve lest others should such good perceive, And wish hereby them all unknown 1 to leave.

Also much better were they than I tell, And ever seemed as some new sweet befell. The parrot, from East India to me sent, 4 Is dead; all fowls her exequies frequent! Go godly 5 birds, striking your breast, bewail, And with rough claws your tender cheeks assail. For woful hairs let piece-torn plumes abound, For long shrild 6 trumpets let your notes resound. Why, Philomel, dost Tereus' lewdness mourn? All-wasting years have that complaint now 7 worn. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Thy tunes let this rare bird's sad funeral borrow; Itys 1 a great, but ancient cause of sorrow.

Full concord all your lives was you betwixt, And to the end your constant faith stood fixt. What Pylades did to Orestes prove, Such to the parrot was the turtle-dove. But what availed this faith? 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. 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. Behcld how quails among their battles live, Which do perchance old age unto them give. A little filled thee, and for love of talk, Thy nouth to taste of many meats did balk.

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The ravenous vulture lives, the puttock 2 hovers Around the air, the cadess 3 rain discovers. Edition: current; Page: [ ] And crow 1 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 2 best choice. The greedy spirits 3 take the best things first, Supplying their void places with the worst.

My wench's vows for thee what should I show, Which stormy south winds into sea did blow? Elysium hath a wood of holm-trees black, Whose earth doth not perpetual green grass lack. The parrot into wood received with these, Turns all the godly 4 birds to what she please. Edition: current; Page: [ ] A grave her bones hides: on her corps' great grave, The little stones these little verses have. Dost me of new crimes always guilty frame? To overcome, so oft to fight I shame. If on the marble theatre I look, One among many is, to grieve thee, took.

If some fair wench me secretly behold, Thou arguest she doth secret marks unfold.

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If I praise any, thy poor hairs thou tearest; If blame, dissembling of my fault thou fearest. If I look well, thou think'st thou dost not move, If ill, thou say'st I die for others' love. They that deserve pain, bear't with patience. Now rash accusing, and thy vain belief, Forbid thine anger to procure my grief. Lo, how the miserable great-eared ass, Dulled with much beating, slowly forth doth pass! Behold Cypassis, wont to dress thy head, Is charged to violate her mistress' bed! The gods from this sin rid me of suspicion, To like a base wench of despised condition.

Or any back, made rough with stripes, embrace? Add she was diligent thy locks to braid, And, for her skill, to thee a grateful maid. Should I solicit her that is so just,— To take repulse, and cause her show my lust? I swear by Venus, and the winged boy's bow, Myself unguilty of this crime I know. Cypassis, that a thousand ways trim'st hair, Worthy to kemb none but a goddess fair, Our pleasant scapes show thee no clown to be, Apt to thy mistress, but more apt to me.

Who that our bodies were comprest bewrayed? Whence knows Corinna that with thee I played? Yet blushed I not, nor used I any saying, That might be urged to witness our false playing. What if a man with bondwomen offend, To prove him foolish did I e'er contend? Edition: current; Page: [ ] But when on thee her angry eyes did rush, In both thy 1 cheeks she did perceive thee 2 blush. But being present, 3 might that work the best, By Venus deity how did I protest! Thou goddess dost command a warm south blast, My self oaths in Carpathian seas to cast. Ungrate, why feign'st new fears, and dost refuse?

Well may'st thou one thing for thy mistress use. Elegia IX. O Cupid, that dost never cease my smart! O boy, that liest so slothful in my heart!

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Why me that always was thy soldier found, Dost harm, and in thy 6 tents why dost me wound? Why burns thy brand, why strikes thy bow thy friends More glory by thy vanquished foes ascends. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Did not Pelides whom his spear did grieve, Being required, with speedy help relieve? Hunters leave taken beasts, pursue the chase, And than things found do ever further pace. So many men and maidens without love, Hence with great laud thou may'st a triumph move. Rome, if her strength the huge world had not filled, With strawy cabins now her courts should build.

The weary soldier hath the conquered fields, His sword, laid by, safe, tho' rude places yields; 1 20 The dock inharbours ships drawn from the floods, Horse freed from service range abroad the woods. And time it was for me to live in quiet, That have so oft served pretty wenches' diet. For when my loathing it of heat deprives me, I know not whither my mind's whirlwind drives me.

Even as a headstrong courser bears away His rider, vainly striving him to stay; 30 Or as a sudden gale thrusts into sea The haven-touching bark, now near the lea; Edition: current; Page: [ ] So wavering Cupid brings me back amain, And purple Love resumes his darts again. Strike, boy, I offer thee my naked breast, Here thou hast strength, here thy right hand doth rest.


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But me let crafty damsel's words deceive, Great joys by hope I inly shall conceive. Now let her flatter me, now chide me hard, Let me 1 enjoy her oft, oft be debarred. Cupid, by thee, Mars in great doubt doth trample, And thy stepfather fights by thy example. Light art thou, and more windy than thy wings; Joys with uncertain faith thou tak'st and brings: 50 Yet Love, if thou with thy fair mother hear, Within my breast no desert empire bear; Subdue the wandering wenches to thy reign, So of both people shalt thou homage gain.

Elegia X. Was not one wench enough to grieve my heart? Why add'st thou stars to heaven, leaves to green woods, And to the deep 3 vast sea fresh water-floods?

Yet this is better far than lie alone: Let such as be mine enemies have none; Yea, let my foes sleep in an empty bed, And in the midst their bodies largely spread: But may soft 4 love rouse up my drowsy eyes, And from my mistress' bosom let me rise! Though I am slender, I have store of pith, Nor want I strength, but weight, to press her with: Pleasure adds fuel to my lustful fire, I pay them home with that they most desire: Edition: current; Page: [ ] Oft have I spent the night in wantonness, And in the morn been lively ne'ertheless.

He's happy who Love's mutual skirmish slays; And to the gods for that death Ovid prays. O would that no oars might in seas have sunk! The Argo 6 wrecked had deadly waters drunk. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Lo, country gods and know[n] bed to forsake Corinna means, and dangerous ways to take. The ocean hath no painted stones or shells, The sucking 1 shore with their abundance swells.

Maids on the shore, with marble-white feet tread, So far 'tis safe; but to go farther, dread. Let others tell how winds fierce battles wage, How Scylla's and Charybdis' waters rage; And with what rock[s] the feared Ceraunia threat; In what gulf either Syrtes have their seat. The careful shipman now fears angry gusts, And with the waters sees death near him thrusts. But if that Triton toss the troubled flood, In all thy face will be no crimson blood. Then wilt thou Leda's noble twin-stars pray, And, he is happy whom the earth holds, say. The loss of such a wench much blame will gather, Both to the sea-nymphs and the sea-nymphs' father.

Go, minding to return with prosperous wind, Whose blast may hither strongly be inclined. Let Nereus bend the waves unto this shore, Hither the winds blow, here the spring-tide roar. I from the shore thy known ship first will see, And say it brings her that preserveth me. I'll clip 1 and kiss thee with all contentation; For thy return shall fall the vowed oblation; And in the form of beds we'll strew soft sand; Each little hill shall for a table stand: There, wine being filled, thou many things shalt tell, How, almost wrecked, thy ship in main seas fell.

Mine own desires why should myself not flatter? Let the bright day-star cause in heaven this day be, To bring that happy time so soon as may be. About my temples go, triumphant bays! Conquered Corinna in my bosom lays. She whom her husband, guard, and gate, as foes, Lest art should win her, firmly did enclose: That victory doth chiefly triumph merit, Which without bloodshed doth the prey inherit. When Troy by ten years' battle tumbled down. With the Atrides many gained renown: 10 But I no partner of my glory brook, Nor can another say his help I took.

I, guide and soldier, won the field and wear her. I was both horseman, footman, standard-bearer. Nor in my act hath fortune mingled chance O care-got 2 triumph hitherwards advance! Nor is my war's cause new; but for a queen, Europe and Asia in firm peace had been; The Lapiths and the Centaurs, for a woman, To cruel arms their drunken selves did summon; 20 A woman forced the Trojans new to enter Wars, just Latinus, in thy kingdom's centre, A woman against late-built Rome did send The Sabine fathers, who sharp wars intend.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] I saw how bulls for a white heifer strive, She looking on them did more courage give. And me with many, but me 1 without murther, Cupid commands to move his ensigns further. She, secretly from 3 me, such harm attempted, Angry I was, but fear my wrath exempted. But she conceived of me; or I am sure I oft have done what might as much procure. Thou that frequent'st Canopus' pleasant fields, Memphis, and Pharos that sweet date-trees yields, And where swift Nile in his large channel skipping, 4 By seven huge mouths into the sea is slipping.

Edition: current; Page: [ ] She oft hath served thee upon certain days, Where the French 1 rout engirt themselves with bays. On labouring women thou dost pity take, Whose bodies with their heavy burdens ache; 20 My wench, Lucina, I entreat thee favour; Worthy she is, thou should'st in mercy save her. In white, with incense, I'll thine altars greet, Myself will bring vowed gifts before thy feet, Subscribing Naso with Corinna saved: Do but deserve gifts with this title graved. But, if in so great fear I may advise thee, To have this skirmish fought let it suffice thee.

What helps it woman to be free from war, Nor, being armed, fierce troops to follow far, If without battle self-wrought wounds annoy them, And their own privy-weaponed hands destroy them. Who unborn infants first to slay invented, Deserved thereby with death to be tormented. Had ancient mothers this vile custom cherished, All human kind by their default 3 had perished; 10 Edition: current; Page: [ ] Or 1 stones, our stock's original should be hurled.

Again, by some, in this unpeopled world. Who should have Priam's wealthy substance won, If watery Thetis had her child fordone? In swelling womb her twins had Ilia killed, He had not been that conquering Rome did build. Thou also that wert born fair, had'st decayed, If such a work thy mother had assayed. Why tak'st increasing grapes from vinetrees full? With cruel hand why dost green apples pull? Fruits ripe will fall; let springing things increase, Life is no light price of a small surcease.

And why dire poison give you babes unborn? At Colchis, stained with children's blood, men rail. And mother-murdered Itys they 4 bewail 30 Both unkind parents; but, for causes sad, Their wedlocks' pledges 5 venged their husbands bad. What Tereus, what Iason you provokes, To plague your bodies with such harmful strokes? Edition: current; Page: [ ] Armenian tigers never did so ill, Nor dares the lioness her young whelps kill.

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But tender damsels do it, though with pain; Oft dies she that her paunch-wrapt 1 child hath slain: She dies, and with loose hairs to grave is sent, And whoe'er see her, worthily 2 lament. Forgive her, gracious gods, this one delict, And on the next fault punishment inflict. Thou ring that shalt my fair girl's finger bind, Wherein is seen the giver's loving mind: Be welcome to her, gladly let her take thee, And, her small joints encircling, round hoop make thee Fit her so well, as she is fit for me, And of just compass for her knuckles be.

Blest ring, thou in my mistress' hand shall lie. Myself, poor wretch, mine own gifts now envy. O would that suddenly into my gift, I could myself by secret magic shift! Then I, that I may seal her privy leaves, Lest to the wax the hold-fast dry gem cleaves, Would first my beauteous wench's moist lips touch: Only I'll sign naught that may grieve me much. I would not out, might I in one place hit: But in less compass her small fingers knit. Wear me, when warmest showers thy members wash, And through the gem let thy lost waters pash, But seeing thee, I think my thing will swell, And even the ring perform a man's part well.

Vain things why wish I? Elegia XVI. Sulmo, Peligny's third part, me contains, A small, but wholesome soil with watery veins, Although the sun to rive 3 the earth incline, And the Icarian froward dog-star shine; Edition: current; Page: [ ] Pelignian fields with liquid rivers flow, And on the soft ground fertile green grass grow; With corn the earth abounds, with vines much more, And some few pastures Pallas' olives bore; And by the rising herbs, where clear springs slide, A grassy turf the moistened earth doth hide. Pollux and Castor, might I stand betwixt, In heaven without thee would I not be fixt Upon the cold earth pensive let them lay, That mean to travel some long irksome way.

Then on the rough Alps should I tread aloft, My hard way with my mistress would seem soft. No barking dogs, that Scylla's entrails bear, Nor thy gulfs, crook'd Malea, would I fear.

But if stern Neptune's windy power prevail, And waters' force force helping Gods to fail, With thy white arms upon my shoulders seize; So sweet a burden I will bear with ease. Edition: current; Page: [ ] But without thee, although vine-planted ground Contains me; though the streams the 1 fields surround Though hinds in brooks the running waters bring, And cool gales shake the tall trees' leafy spring, Healthful Peligny, I esteem naught worth, Nor do I like the country of my birth.

Scythia, Cilicia, Britain are as good, And rocks dyed crimson with Prometheus' blood. Why doth my mistress from me oft divide? Thou swear'dst, 2 division should not twixt us rise. By me, and by my stars, thy radiant eyes; Maids' words more vain and light than falling leaves Which, as it seems, hence wind and sea bereaves. If any godly care of me thou hast, Add deeds unto thy promises at last.

And with swift nags drawing thy little coach Their reins let loose , right soon my house approach 50 But when she comes, you 3 swelling mounts, sink down, And falling valleys be the smooth ways' crown. Elegia XVII. To serve a wench if any think it shame, He being judge, I am convinced of blame. Edition: current; Page: [ ] Let me be slandered, while my fire she hides, That Paphos, and 1 flood-beat Cythera guides. Would I had been my mistress' gentle prey, Since some fair one I should of force obey.