The goddess saw Iasion on Candian Ide,
With strong hand striking wild beasts' bristled hide.
She saw, and as her marrow took the flame,
Was divers ways distract with love and shame.
Love conquer'd shame, the furrows dry were burn'd,
And corn with least part of itself return'd.
When well-toss'd mattocks did the ground prepare,
Being fit-broken with the crooked share,
And seeds were equally in large fields cast,
The ploughman's hopes were frustrate at the last.
The grain-rich goddess in high woods did stray,
Her long hair's ear-wrought garland fell away.
Only was Crete fruitful that plenteous year,
Where Ceres went, each place was harvest there.
Ida, the seat of groves, did sing with corn,
Which by the wild boar in the woods was shorn.
Law-giving Minos did such years desire,
And wish'd the goddess long might feel love's fire.
Ceres, what sports to thee so grievous were,
As in thy sacrifice we them forbear?
Why am I sad, when Proserpine is found,
And Juno like with Dis reigns under ground?
Festival days ask Venus, songs, and wine,
These gifts are meet to please the powers divine.

ELEGIA 11.

Ad amicam a cujus amore discedere non potest.

LONG have I borne much, mad thy faults me make ;
Dishonest love, my wearied breast forsake!
Now have I freed myself, and fled the chain,

And what I have borne, shame to bear again.

We vanquish, and tread tam'd love under feet,
Victorious wreaths at length my temples greet.
Suffer, and harden: good grows by this grief,
Oft bitter juice brings to the sick relief.

I have sustain'd, so oft thrust from the door,
To lay my body on the hard moist floor.
I know not whom thou lewdly did'st embrace,
When I to watch supplied a servant's place.
I saw when forth a tired lover went,

His side past service, and his courage spent.
Yet this is less, than if he had seen me;

May that shame fall mine enemies chance to be.

When have not I, fix'd to thy side, close laid?

I have thy husband, guard, and fellow play'd.
The people by my company she pleas'd;

My love was cause that more men's love she seiz'd.
What, should I tell her vain tongue's filthy lyes,
And to my loss, god-wronging perjuries?
What secret becks in banquets with her youths,
With privy signs, and talk-dissembling truths?
Hearing her to be sick, I thither ran,

But with my rival sick she was not than;
These hardened me, with what I keep obscure :
Some other seek, who will these things endure.
Now my ship in the wished haven crown'd,
With joy hears Neptune's swelling waters sound.
Leave thy once powerful words, and flatteries,
I am not as I was before, unwise.

Now love and hate my light breast each way move,
But victory, I think will hap to love.

I'll hate, if I can; if not, love 'gainst my will,
Bulls hate the yoke, yet what they hate have still.
I flie her lust, but follow beauty's creature,

I loath her manners, love her body's feature.
Nor with thee, nor without thee can I live,
And doubt to which desire the palm to give.
Or less fair, or less lewd would thou might'st be:
Beauty, with lewdness doth right ill agree.
Her deeds gain hate, her face entreateth love,
Ah, she doth more worth than her vices prove.
Spare me, O by our fellow bed, by all
The gods, who by thee, to be perjured fall.
And by thy face to me a power divine,

And by thine eyes

whose radiance burns out mine. Whate'er thou art, mine art thou: choose this course,

Wilt have me willing, or to love by force.

Rather I'll hoist up sale, and use the wind,
That I may love yet, though against my mind.

ELEGIA 12.

Dolet amicam suam ita suis carminibus innotuissam ut rivales multos sibi pararit.

WHAT day was that, which all sad haps to bring,

White birds to lovers did not always sing?

Or is't I think my wish against the stars?

Or shall I plain some god against me wars?

Who mine was call'd, whom I lov'd more than any,

I fear with me is common now to many. Err I? or by my looks is she so known? 'Tis so by my wit her abuse is grown.

And justly for her praise why did I tell?
The wench by my fault is set forth to sell.
The bawd I play, lovers to her I guide:
Her gate by my hands is set open wide.
"Tis doubtful whether verse avail or harm,

Against my good they were an envious charm.

When Thebes, when Troy, when Cæsar should be writ,

Alone Corinna moves my wanton wit.

With muse oppos'd, would I my lines had done,
And Phoebus had forsook my work begun.

Nor, as use will not poets record hear,
Would I my words would any credit bear.
Scylla by us her father's rich hair steals,
And Scylla's womb mad raging dogs conceals.
We cause feet fly, we mingle hares with snakes,
Victorious Perseus a wing'd steed's back takes.
Our verse great Tityus, a huge space outspreads,
And gives the viper-curled dog three heads.
We make Enceladus use a thousand arms,
And men inthrall'd by mermaid's singing charms.
The east winds in Ulysses' bags we shut,
And babbing Tantalus in mid-waters put.
Niobe flint, Callist we make a bear,
Bird-changed Progne doth her Itys tear.
Jove turns himself into a swan, or gold,

Or his bull's horns Europa's hand doth hold.

Proteus what should I name? teeth, Thebes' first

seed?

Oxen in whose mouths burning flames did breed;

Heav'n-starr'd Electra, that bewail'd her sisters?
The ships, whose godhead in the sea now glisters?
The sun turn'd back from Atreus' cursed table?
And sweet touch'd harp that to move stones was able?
Poets' large power is boundless, and immense,
Nor have their words true history's pretence.
And my wench ought to have seem'd falsely prais'd,
Now your credulity harm to me hath rais'd.

ELEGIA 13.

De Junonis festo.

WHEN fruit-fill'd Tuscia should a wife give me,
We touch'd the walls, Camillus won by thee.
The priests to Juno did prepare chaste feasts,
With famous pageants, and their home-bred beasts.
To know their rites, well recompenc'd my stay,
Though thither leads a rough steep hilly way.
There stands an old wood with thick trees dark clouded:
Who sees it grants some deity there is shrowded.
An altar takes men's incense and oblation,

An altar made after the ancient fashion.

Here, when the pipe with solemn tunes doth sound,
The annual pomp goes on the cover'd ground.
White heifers by glad people forth are led,

Which with the grass of Tuscan fields are fed.
And calves from whose fear'd front no threatning flies,

And little pigs, base hogsties' sacrifice,

And rams with horns their hard heads wreathed back,

Only the goddess-hated goat did lack.

By whom disclos'd, she in the high woods took,

Is said to have attempted flight forsook.

Now is the goat brought through the boys with darts,