Epistulae

me into your embraces, and almost smothered me with fragrant kisses; kisses, (great Gods!) more than a full reward for the dangers of crossing the sea. You gave me the robes which you had taken from your own shoulders, and smoothed my locks wet with briny dew. Ourselves, the night, the tower, and that shining light which guided my way through the uncertain deep, were conscious of the rest. The joys of that happy night are no more to be numbered, than the sea-weed cast upon the shore by the raging waves of the Hellespont. The less the time allowed us for these stolen pleasures, the greater was our care that not a moment should be lost.

And now, the wife of Tithonus preparing to drive away the night, Lucifer, the fore-runner of Aurora, rose above the earth. We rushed into each other's arms, and mutually snatched the ardent kisses; we complained of the night, that her stay was so short. At length, after many admonitions from your rigid nurse, and as many delays, I left the tower, and