Priapeia

Priaepia

by divers poets in English verse and prose. Translated by Sir Richard Burton and Leonard C. Smithers

  1. Who could believe my words? 'Tis shame to confess that the sickle
  2. Yon thief-folk have availed e'en from my fingers to thieve.
  3. Nor doth its loss so much affect my mind or dishonour
  4. As the just, natural dread other my weapons to lose,
  5. Which lost shall I stand mulcted of country, and he that was erewhile
  6. Son of the city to thee, Lampsacus! Gaul shall become.
  1. Thou too dost mock me, Thief! and the infamous
  2. Finger dost point when menacèd by me!
  3. Ah hapless I, that should be only wood
  4. What makes me ever formidable seem!
  5. Yet will I charge my garden's lustful lord
  6. For me deign robber-folk to irrumate.
  1. A chough, a caries, an eld-worn grave,
  2. By lapse of crowding centuries rotten grown,