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. Sure I am less than these,-then what can bring
  2. Disgrace to me, that so became a king !
  3. But when she look'd on you, poor harmless maid,
  4. You blush'd, and all the kind intrigue betray'd;
  5. Yet still I vow'd, I made a stout defence,
  6. I swore, and look'd as bold as innocence;
  7. "Damme,—egad!" all that, and—"let me die!"'
  8. Kind Venus, do not hear my perjury;
  9. Kind Venus, stop thy ears when lovers lie.
  10. Now, Betty, how will you my oaths requite?
  11. Come, pr'ythee let's compound for more delight;
  12. Faith, I am easy, and but ask a night.
  13. What! start at the proposal? how! deny
  14. Pretend fond fears of a discovery ?
  15. Refuse, lest some sad chance the thing betray ?
  16. Is this your kind, your damn'd obliging way ?
  17. Well, deny on; I'll lie, I'll swear no more;
  18. Corinna now shall know thou art a whore.
  19. I'll tell, since you my fair address forbid,
  20. 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:
  21. The harass'd whore, who liv'd a wretch to please,
  22. Has leave to be a bawd, and take her ease.
  23. For me then, who have truly spent my blood,
  24. Love, in thy service, and so boldly stood
  25. In Celia's trenches, were't not wisely done,
  26. E'en to retire, and live at peace at home ?
  27. No-might I gain a godhead to disclaim
  28. My glorious title to my endless flame,
  29. Divinity with scorn I would forswear,
  30. Such sweet, dear, tempting devils women are.