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The hirer payeth all, his rent discharg'd
From further duty he rests then enlarg’d.
Fair dames forbear rewards for nights to crave:
Ill-gotten goods good end will never have.
The Sabine gauntlets were too dearly won,
That unto death did press the holy nun.
The son slew her, that forth to meet him went,
And a rich necklace caus'd that punishment.
Yet think no scorn to ask a wealthy churl;
He wants no gifts into thy lap to hurl.
Take clustered grapes from an o'er-laden vine,
Many to bounteous love Alcinous' fruit resign.
Let poor men shew their service, faith and care;
All for their mistress, what they have, prepare.
In verse to prepare kind wenches 'tis my part,
And whom I like eternise by mine art.
Garments do wear, jewels and gold do waste,
The fame that verse gives doth for ever last.
To give I love, but to be ask'd disdain;
Leave asking, and I'll give what I refrain.

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In skillful gathering rufiled hairs in order,
Nape, free-born, whose cunning hath no border,
Thy service for night's 'scapes is known commodious,
And to give signs dull wit is odious.
Corinna clips me oft by thy persuasion:
Never to harm me made thy faith evasion.

Receive these lines, them to my mistress carry;
Be sedulous; let no stay cause thee tarry,
Nor flint, nor iron, are in thy soft breast,
But pure simplicity in thee doth rest.
And 'tis suppos'd love's bow hath wounded thee;
Defend the ensigns of thy war in me.
If what I do, she asks, say hope for night;
The rest my hand doth in my letters write.
Time passeth while I speak; give her my writ,
But see that forthwith she peruseth it.
I charge thee mark her eyes and front in reading:
By speechless looks we guess at things succeeding.
Straight being read, will her to write much back,
I hate fair paper should writ matter lack.
Let her make verses and some blotted letter
On the last edge to stay mine eyes the better.
What need she try her hand to hold the quill?
Let this word, Come, alone the tables fill.
Then with triumphant laurel will I grace them
And in the mid'st of Venus' temple place them,
Subscribing that to her I consecrate
My faithful tables, being vile maple late.

ELEG IA 12. Tabellas quas miserat execratur quod amica noctem negabat. Bewa IL. my chance the sad book is return'd, This day denial hath my sport adjourn'd. Presages are not vain, when she departed, Nape, by stumbling on the threshold, started.

Going out again pass forth the door most wisely,
And somewhat higher bear thy foot precisely.
Hence luckless tables, funeral wood be flying,
And thou the wax stuff"d full with notes denying;
Which I think gather'd from cold hemlock's flower,
Wherein bad honey Corsic bees did pour,
Yet as if mix'd with red lead thou wert ruddy,
That colour rightly did appear so bloody.
And evil wood thrown in the highways lie,
Be broke with wheels of chariots passing by.
And him that hew'd you out for needful uses,
I'll prove had hands impure with ail abuses.
Poor wretches on the tree themselves did strangle:
There sat the hangman for men's necks to angle.
To hoarse scrich-owls foul shadows it allows;
Vultures and furies nestled in the boughs.
To these my love I foolishly committed
And then with sweet words to my mistress fitted.
More fitly had they wrangling bonds contained
• From barbarous lips of some attorney strained.
Among day-books and bills they had lain better,
In which the merchant wails his bankrupt debtor.
Your name approves you made for such like things
The number two no good divining brings.
Angry, I pray that rotten age you wracks
And sluttish white-mould overgrow the wax.

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Eleg IA 13."

Ad Auroram ne properet. Now o'er the sea from her old love comes she That draws the day from heaven's cold axletree. Aurora whither slid'st thou? down again, And birds from Memnon yearly shall be slain. Now in her tender arms I sweetly bide, If ever now well lies she by my side, The air is cold, and sleep is sweetest now, And birds send forth shrill notes from every bough. Whither run'st thou, that men and women love not! Hold in thy rosy horses that they move not. Ere thou rise, stars teach seamen where to sail, But when thou com'st, they of their courses fail. Poor travellers though tired, rise at thy sight, And soldiers make them ready to the fight. The painful hind by thee to field is sent; Slow oxen early in the yoke are pent. Thou cous'nest boys of sleep, and dost betray them To pedants that with cruel lashes pay them. Thou mak'st the surety to the lawyer run, That with one word hath nigh himself undone. The lawyer and the client hate thy view, Both whom thou raisest up to toil anew. By thy means women of their rest are barr'd, Thou set'st their labouring hands to spin and card. All could I bear, but that the wench should rise, Who can endure, save him with whom none lies 2 How oft wish'd I night would not give thee place, Nor morning stars shun thy uprising face.

How oft. that either wind would break thy coach,
Or steeds mightfall, forc'd with thick clouds approach.
VWhither go'st thou, hateful nymph : Memnon the elf
Receiv'd his cole-black colour from thyself.
Say that thy love with Cephalus were not known,
Then thinkest thou thy loose life is not shown.
Would Tithon might but talk of thee awhile,
Not one in heaven should be more base and vile.
Thou leav'st his bed, because he's faint through age,
And early mount'st thy hateful carriage: .
But held'st thou in thine arms some Cephalus,
Then would'st thou cry, stay night and run not thus.
Do'st punish me, because years make him wane,
I did not bid thee wed an aged swain.
The moon sleeps with Endymion every day,
Thou art as fair as she, then kiss and play.
Jove that thou should'st not haste but wait his leisure
Made two nights one to finish up his pleasure.
I chide no more, she blush'd, and therefore heard me,
Yet linger'd not the day, but morning scar'd me.

Eirc a 14.

Puellam consolatur cui praenimia cura coma, desiderant. Leave colouring thy tresses I did cry, Now hast thou left no hairs at all to die. But what had been more fair had they been kept2 Beyond thy robes thy dangling locks had swept. Feard'st thou to dress them being fine and thin, Like to the silk the curious Seres spin.

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