ENUS, dost thou renew a fray
Long intermitted? Spare me, spare, I
pray!

I am not such as in the reign
Of the good Cinara I was. Refrain,

Sweet Love's sour mother, him to school,
Whom lustres ten have harden'd to thy rule,
And soft behests; and hie thee where
Youth calls to thee with many a fondling prayer!
More fitly-if thou seek to fire

A bosom apt for love and young desire

Come, borne by bright-wing'd swans, and thus Revel in the house of Paulus Maximus; Since, noble, and of graces choice, For troubled clients voluble of voice, And lord of countless arts, afar Will he advance the banners of thy war. And when he shall with smiles behold

His native charms eclipse his rival's gold,

ODE I.

THE PAINS OF LOVE.

ALTERED FROM BEN JONSON.

ENUS, dost thou renew a fray
Long intermitted? Spare me, spare, I
pray!

I am not such as in the reign Of the good Cinara I was. Refrain, Sweet Love's sour mother, him to school, tres ten have harden'd to thy rule, behests; and hie thee where

to thee with many a fondling prayer! -if thou seek to fire

t for love and young desire-
rne by bright-wing'd swans, and thus
e house of Paulus Maximus ;
oble, and of graces choice,
ed clients voluble of voice,
d of countless arts, afar

Ivance the banners of thy war.
hen he shall with smiles behold
e charms eclipse his rival's gold,

He will thyself in marble rear,

Beneath a cedarn roof near Alba's mere.

There shall thy dainty nostril take
In many a gum, and for thy soft ear's sake
Shall verse be set to harp and lute,
And Phrygian hautboy, not without the flute.
There twice a-day, in sacred lays,

Shall youths and tender maidens sing thy praise;
And thrice in Salian manner beat

The ground in cadence with their ivory feet.
Me neither damsel now, nor boy

Delights, nor credulous hope of mutual joy ;
Nor glads me now the deep carouse,

Nor with dew-dropping flowers to bind my brows.
But why, oh why, my Ligurine,

Flow my thin tears down these poor cheeks of mine?
Or why, my well-graced words among,

With an uncomely silence fails my tongue?
I dream, thou cruel one, by night,
I hold thee fast; anon, fled with the light,
Whether in Field of Mars thou be,

Or Tiber's rolling streams, I follow thee.