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.
- Now would her pliant limbs around me twine,
- And sooth, by thousand ways, the sweet design.
- The moving blandishments of sound she tried,
- And, " My dear life, my soul, my all," she cried.
- In vain, alas ! the nerves are slacken'd still,
- And I prov'd only potent in my will;
- A poor inactive sign of man I made,
- And might as well for use have been a shade.
- If old I live, how shall I old prevail,
- When in my youth I thus inglorious fail?
- The bloom of years becomes my shameful moan,
- Now in full growth the ripen'd man is shown,
- But not the strength of man to her was known.
- Untouched by brothers, sisters thus retire,
- Or vestals rise to watch th' eternal fire;
- Yet many a nymph whom I forbear to name,
- Rave kindly yielded, and indulg'd my flame
- Nor could the vigour of their 0vid blame.
- Corinna knows when numb'ring the delight,
- Not less than nine full transports crown'd the night.