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. Your tender cheek upon his hairy breast;
  2. Let not his hand within your bosom stray,
  3. And rudely with your pretty bubbies play.
  4. But, above all, let him no kiss receive,
  5. That's an offence I never can forgive;
  6. Do not, oh! do not that sweet mouth resign,
  7. Lest I rise up in arms, and cry 'tis mine.
  8. I shall thrust in betwixt, and void of fear
  9. The manifest adult'rer will appear.
  10. These things are plain to sight, but more I doubt
  11. What you conceal beneath your petticoat;
  12. Take not his leg between your tender thighs,
  13. Nor with your hand provoke my foe to rise.
  14. How many love inventions I deplore,
  15. Which I myself have practis'd all before !
  16. How oft have I been forc'd the robe to lift
  17. In company; to make a homely shift
  18. For a bare bout, ill huddled o'er in haste,
  19. While o'er my side the fair her mantle cast!
  20. You to your husband shall not be so kind,
  21. But lest you should, your mantle leave behind.
  22. Encourage him to tope, but kiss him not,
  23. Nor mix one drop of water in his pot.
  24. If he be fuddled well, and snores apace,
  25. Then we may take advice from time and place.
  26. When all depart, while compliments are loud,
  27. Be sure to mix among the thickest crowd;
  28. There I will be, and there we cannot miss,
  29. Perhaps to grubble, or at least to kiss.
  30. Alas, what length of labor I employ,
  31. Just to secure a short and transient joy!
  32. For night must part us, and when night is come
  33. Tuck'd underneath his arm, he leads you home.
  34. He locks you in, I follow to the door,
  35. His fortune envy, and my own deplore;
  36. He kisses you, he more than kisses too,
  37. Th' outrageous cuckold thinks it all his due.
  38. But add not to his joy by your consent,
  39. And let it not be given, but only lent;
  40. Return no kiss, nor move in any sort,
  41. Make it a dull and a malignant sport.
  42. Had I my wish he should no pleasure take,
  43. But slubber o'er your bus'ness for my sake;
  44. And whate'er fortune shall this night befall,
  45. Coax me to morrow by forswearing all.
  1. 'Twas noon when I, scorch'd with the double fire
  2. Of the hot sun and my more hot desire,
  3. Stretch'd on my downy couch at ease was laid,
  4. Big with expectance of the lovely maid.
  5. The curtains but half drawn, a light let in