Part 3 (2/2)

I strove with wine my sorrows to efface.

But wine turned tears was all the drink I knew; I tried a new, strange la.s.s. Each cold embrace Brought my true love to mind, and colder grew.

”I was bewitched” she cried ”by shameful charms;”

And things most vile she vowed she could declare.

Bewitched! 'tis true! but by thy soft white arms, Thy lovely brows and lavish golden hair!

Such charms had Thetis, born in Nereid cave, Who drives her dolphin-chariot fast and free To Peleus o'er the smooth Haemonian wave, Love-guided o'er long leagues of azure sea.

Ah me! the magic that dissolves my health Is a rich suitor in my mistress' eye, Whom that vile bawd led to her door by stealth And opened it, and bade me pine and die.

That hag should feed on blood. Her festive bowls Should be rank gall: and round her haunted room Wild, wailing ghosts and monitory owls Should flit forever shrieking death and doom.

Made hunger-mad, may she devour the gra.s.s That grows on graves, and gnaw the bare bones down Which wolves have left! Stark-naked may she pa.s.s, Chased by the street-dogs through the taunting town!

My curse comes fast. Unerring signs are seen In stars above us. There are G.o.ds who still Protect unhappy lovers: and our Queen Venus rains fire on all who slight her will.

O cruel girl! unlearn the wicked art Of that rapacious hag! For everywhere Wealth murders love. But thy poor lover's heart Is ever thine, and thou his dearest care.

A poor man clings close to thy lovely side, And keeps the crowd off, and thy pathway free; He hides thee with kind friends, and as his bride From thy dull, golden thraldom ransoms thee.

Vain is my song. Her door will not unclose For words, but for a hand that knocks with gold.

O fear me, my proud rival, fear thy foes!

Oft have the wheels of fortune backward rolled!

ELEGY THE SEVENTH

A DESPERATE EXPEDIENT

Thou beckonest ever with a face all smiles, Then, G.o.d of Love, thou lookest fierce and pale.

Unfeeling boy! why waste on me such wiles?

What glory if a G.o.d o'er man prevails?

Once more thy snares are set. My Delia flies To steal a night--with whom I cannot tell.

Can I believe when she denies, denies-- I, for whose sake she tricked her lord so well?

By me, alas! those cunning ways were shown To fool her slaves. My skill I now deplore!

For me she made excuse to sleep alone, Or silenced the shrill hinges of her door.

”Twas I prescribed what remedies to use If mutual pa.s.sion somewhat fiercely play; If there were tell-tale bite or rosy bruise, I showed what simples take the scars away.

Hear me! fond husband of the false and fair, Make me thy guest, and she shall chastely go!

When she makes talk with men I shall take care, Nor shall she at the wine her bosom show.

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