Amores

Ovid

Ovid. Ovid's Art of Love (in three Books), the Remedy of Love, the Art of Beauty, the Court of Love, the History of Love, and Amours. Dryden, John, et al., translator. New York: Calvin Blanchard, 1855.

  1. I'll ne'er to tablets trust my passion more;
  2. Nor with my wax for death my warrant seal;
  3. Worse than her scorn, what torture can I feel?
  4. From combs of Cosica the wax was ta'en,
  5. The latent poison was the lover's bane.
  6. Bees there from venom'd flow'rs their honey suck,
  7. And surely to my wax that venom stuck.
  8. Chance on the seal did my misfortune paint,
  9. And show'd my doom by the vermilion teint.
  10. Curse on the instruments of my disgrace !
  11. May you lie rotting in some filthy place;
  12. By carts run o'er may you to bits be torn,
  13. And your mishap revenge Corinna's scorn !
  14. The man that first to smooth your surface toil'd,
  15. The wooden work with hands impure defil'd;
  16. Gibbets and racks should of the wood be made,
  17. And the rough tools of all the murd'ring trade.
  18. Bats roosted in its branches as it grew,
  19. And birds of prey for shelter thither flew:
  20. The vulture, and all kind of rav'nous fowl,
  21. There hatch their young, and there the om'nous owl.
  22. How mad to use such tablets must I be?
  23. Curst and ill fated, as their parent tree!
  24. Were these fit things soft sentiments to bear,
  25. And to a lady tell a lover's care?
  26. Lawyers, on you, might horrid jargon write,
  27. With sound the ear, with sense the soul to flight.
  28. Well might your plain the wicked writings bear
  29. Where the rich miser robs the ruin'd heir.
  30. When I first purchas'd you, I feared no less,
  31. Your numbers even made me doubt success:
  32. May you by worms be in old age devour'd,
  33. And by all mortals as by me abhor'd.
  1. Aurora, rising from old Tithon's bed,
  2. Does o'er the eastern skies her roses spread:
  3. Stay, beauteous morn, awhile thy chariot stay,
  4. Awhile with lagging wheels retard the day.
  5. So may young birds, as often as the spring
  6. Renews the year, o'er Memnon's ashes sing.
  7. Now I lie folded in Corinna's arms,
  8. And all her soul is mine, and all her charms;
  9. I now am to her panting bosom press'd,
  10. And now, if ever lover was, am bless'd.
  11. As yet sweet sleep sits heavy on our eyes,
  12. And warbling birds forbid, as yet to rise.
  13. Stay, beauteous morning, for to love-sick maids
  14. And youths, how grateful are these dusky shades!
  15. All stay, and do not, from the blushing east,
  16. With dawning glories break our balmy rest.
  17. When night's black mantle does those glories hide,
  18. The pilot by the stars his ship can guide,
  19. And in mid-sea a certain course pursue,
  20. As safe as when he has the sun in view.
  21. What pleasure in thy light should mortals take?
  22. Thou dost the weary traveller awake;
  23. Though to the down his heavy head reclines,
  24. Up he must lift it for the morning shines.
  25. The soldier braces on his brazen shield,
  26. Quits his warm tent, and fits him for the field:
  27. The lab'ring hind his harrow takes, and now
  28. The peasant yokes his oxen to the plough:
  29. The boy half wak'd, and rubbing still his eyes,
  30. Is loth alike to go to school, or rise;
  31. While o'er his task he does imperfect nod,
  32. He fears the ferula, he dreads the rod.
  33. The bridegroom, starting from his bride's embrace,
  34. Runs to his lawyer to consult his case;
  35. A word is wanting in the dower deed,
  36. And what to save the portion must he plead?
  37. Now hungry serjeants quit their tempting ease,