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. Plain fountain water all thy drink allow'd,
  2. And nut and poppy-seed were all thy food.
  3. The preying vultures and the kites remain,
  4. And the unlucky crow still caws for rain;
  5. The chough still lives 'midst fierce Minerva's hate,
  6. And scarce nine hundred years conclude her fate;
  7. But my poor Poll now hangs his sickly head,
  8. My Poll, my present from the east, is dead.
  9. Best things are sooner snatch'd by cov'tous fate,
  10. To worse she freely gives a longer date;
  11. Thersites brave Achilles' fate surviv'd,
  12. And Hector fell, whilst all his brothers liv'd.
  13. Why should I tell what vows Corinna made?
  14. How oft she begg'd thy life, how oft she pray'd ?
  15. The seventh day came, and now the Fates begin
  16. To end the thread, they had no more to spin;
  17. Yet still he talk'd, and when death nearer drew,
  18. His last breath said, "Corinna, now adieu!"
  19. There is a shady cypress grove below,
  20. And thither (if such doubtful things we know)
  21. The ghosts of pious birds departed go;
  22. 'Tis water'd well, and verdant all the year,
  23. And birds obscene do never enter there;
  24. There harmless swans securely take their rest,
  25. And there the single Phoenix builds her nest;
  26. Proud peacocks there display their gaudy train,
  27. And billing turtles coo o'er all the plain:
  28. To these dark shades my parrot's soul shall go,
  29. And with his talk divert the birds below;
  30. Whilst here his bones enjoy a noble grave,
  31. A little marble, and an epitaph:-
  32. "In talking I did ev'ry bird excel,
  33. And my tomb proves my mistress lov'd me well."
  1. And must I still be guilty, still untrue,
  2. And when old crimes are purg'd, still charg'd with new?
  3. What tho' at last my cause I clearly gain?
  4. Yet I'm asham'd so oft to strive in vain,
  5. And when the prize will scarce reward the pain.
  6. If at the play I in fop-corner sit,
  7. And with a squinting eye gloat o'er the pit,
  8. Or view the boxes, you begin to fear,
  9. And fancy straight some rival beauty there.
  10. If any looks on me, you think you spy
  11. A private assignation in her eye;
  12. A silent soft discourse in ev'ry grace,
  13. And tongues in all the features of her face.
  14. If I praise any one, you tear your hair,
  15. Show frantic tricks, and rage with wild despair;
  16. If discommend, 0 then 'tis all deceit,
  17. I strive to cloak my passion by the cheat.
  18. If I look well, I then neglect your charms,
  19. Lie dull and lazy in your active arms;
  20. If weak my voice, if pale my looks appear,
  21. 0 then I languish for another fair.
  22. Would I did sin, and you with cause complain,
  23. For when we strive to shun, yet strive in vain,
  24. 'Tis comfort sure to have deserv'd the pain.
  25. But sure fond fancies now such heats engage,
  26. Your cred'lous peevish humour spoils your rage.
  27. In frequent chidings I no force can see,
  28. You frown too often to prevail with me;
  29. The ass grows dull by stripes; the constant blow
  30. Beats off his briskness, and he moves but slow.
  31. But now I'm lavish of my kind embrace,
  32. And Moll, forsooth, supplies her lady's place!
  33. Kind love, forbid that I should stoop so low;
  34. What! unto mean, ignoble beauties bow ?
  35. A chambermaid ! no faith, my love flies high;
  36. My quarry is a miss of quality.
  37. Fye, who would clasp a slave ? who joy to feel
  38. Her hands of iron and her sides of steel ?
  39. 'Twill damp an eager thought, 'twill check my mind,
  40. To feel those knobs the lash hath left behind.
  41. Besides, she dresses well, with lovely grace
  42. She sets thy tow'r, and does adorn thy face;
  43. Thy nat'ral beauty all her hearts improve,
  44. And make me more enamour'd of my love.
  45. Then why should I tempt her, and why betray
  46. Thy useful slave, and have her turn'd away?
  47. I swear by Venus, by love's darts and bow,
  48. (A desp'rate oath, you must believe me now,)
  49. I am not guilty, I've not broke my vow!
  1. Dear, skilful Betty, who dost far excel
  2. My lady's other maids in dressing well;
  3. Dear Betty, fit to be preferred above
  4. To Juno's chamber, or the queen of love;
  5. Genteel, well-bred, not rustically coy,
  6. Not easy to deny desired joy;
  7. Thro' whose soft eyes still secret wishes shine,
  8. Fit for thy mistress' use, but more for mine;
  9. Who, Betty, did the fatal secret see?
  10. Who told Corinna you were kind to me!
  11. Yet when she chid me for my kind embrace,
  12. Did any guilty blush spread o'er my face!
  13. Did I betray thee, maid, or could she spy
  14. The least confession in my conscious eye !
  15. Not that I think it a disgrace to prove
  16. Stol'n sweets, or make a chambermaid my love;
  17. Achilles wanton'd in Briseis' arms,
  18. Atrides bow'd to fair Cassandra's charms:
  19. Sure I am less than these,-then what can bring
  20. Disgrace to me, that so became a king !
  21. But when she look'd on you, poor harmless maid,
  22. You blush'd, and all the kind intrigue betray'd;
  23. Yet still I vow'd, I made a stout defence,
  24. I swore, and look'd as bold as innocence;
  25. "Damme,—egad!" all that, and—"let me die!"'
  26. Kind Venus, do not hear my perjury;
  27. Kind Venus, stop thy ears when lovers lie.
  28. Now, Betty, how will you my oaths requite?
  29. Come, pr'ythee let's compound for more delight;
  30. Faith, I am easy, and but ask a night.
  31. What! start at the proposal? how! deny
  32. Pretend fond fears of a discovery ?
  33. Refuse, lest some sad chance the thing betray ?
  34. Is this your kind, your damn'd obliging way ?
  35. Well, deny on; I'll lie, I'll swear no more;
  36. Corinna now shall know thou art a whore.
  37. I'll tell, since you my fair address forbid,
  38. How often, when, and where, and what we did!
  1. O Love! how cold and slow to take my part,
  2. Thou idle wanderer about my heart!
  3. Why thy old faithful soldier wilt thou see
  4. Oppress'd in thy own tents? they murder me;
  5. Thy flames consume, thy arrows pierce thy friends;
  6. Rather on foes pursue more noble ends.
  7. Achilles' sword would certainly bestow
  8. A cure as certain as it gave the blow.
  9. Hunters, who follow flying game, give o'er
  10. When the prey's caught, hope still leads on before;
  11. We, thine own slaves, feel thy tyrannic blows.
  12. While thy tame hand's unmov'd against thy foes.
  13. On men disarm'd, how can you gallant prove ?
  14. And I was long ago disarm'd by love.
  15. Millions of dull men live, and scornful maids;
  16. We'll own love valiant when he these invades.
  17. Rome from each corner of the wide world snatch'd
  18. A laurel, or't had been to this day thatch'd;
  19. But the old soldier has his resting-place,
  20. And the good batter'd horse is turn'd to grass: