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. The jilting harlot strikes the surest blow,
  2. A truth which I by sad experience know;
  3. The kind, poor, constant creature we despise,
  4. Man but pursues the quarry while it flies.
  5. But thou dull husband of a wife too fair,
  6. Stand on thy guard, and watch the precious ware;
  7. If creaking doors, or barking dogs, thou hear,
  8. Or windows scratch'd, suspect a rival there.
  9. An orange wench would tempt thy wife abroad;
  10. Kick her, for she's a letter-bearing bawd.
  11. In short, be jealous as the devil in hell,
  12. And set my wit on work to cheat thee well.
  13. The sneaking city-cuckold is my foe;
  14. I scorn to strike but when he wards the blow.
  15. Look to thy hits and leave off thy conniving,
  16. I'll be no drudge to any wittol living;
  17. I have been patient, and forborne thee long,
  18. In hope thou wouldst not pocket up thy wrong:
  19. If no affront can rouse thee, understand
  20. I'll take no more indulgence at thy hand.
  21. What, ne'er to be forbid thy house and wife
  22. Damn him who loves to lead so ill a life.
  23. Now I can neither sigh, nor whine, nor pray;
  24. All those occasions thou hast ta'en away.
  25. Why art thou so incorrigibly civil ?
  26. Do somewhat I may wish thee at the devil
  27. For shame, be no accomplice in my treason;
  28. A pimping husband is too much in reason.
  29. Once more wear horns, before I quite forsake her
  30. In hopes whereof, I rest thy cuckold-maker.
  1. Unhurt by steel, arose an ancient wood,
  2. A mansion fit for some retiring god;
  3. With craggy stones a secret grot was hung,
  4. And in the midst a sacred fountain sprung;
  5. The courting birds repeating songs of love,
  6. With soft complainings sweetly fill'd the grove:
  7. Here wand'ring thoughtful, and intent to choose
  8. Some theme unsung, to please the busy muse;
  9. Fair elegy came on with gentle pace,
  10. Unforc'd her air and easy was her grace.
  11. Her flaxen hair, in curious tresses wreath'd,
  12. Ambrosial sweets and heav'nly odours breath'd;
  13. A simple dress the careless charmer bore,
  14. And loving looks, and smiles unartful wore.
  15. Next came the goddess of the tragic scene,
  16. With stately tread, and proud majestic mien
  17. Her front severe, with hanging curls was drown'd,
  18. Her length of robe was full, and swept the ground:
  19. Her hand held out, a regal sceptre grac'd,
  20. And Lydian buskins half her legs embrac'd.