Young oxen newly yok'd are beaten more,
Than oxen which have drawn the plough before:
And rough jades' mouths with stubborn bits are torn,
But manag'd horses' heads are lightly borne.
Unwilling lovers, love doth more torment,
Than such as in their bondage feel content.
Lo! I confess, I am thy captive I,
And hold my conquer'd hands for thee to tie.
What need'st thou war? I sue to thee for grace:
With arms to conquer armless men is base.
Yoke Venus' Doves, put myrtle on thy hair,
Vulcan will give thee chariots rich and fair:
The people thee applauding, thou shalt stand,
Guiding the harmless pigeons with thy hand.
Young men and women shalt thou lead as thrall,
So will thy triumphs seem magnifical;
I, lately caught, will have a new made wound,
And captive-like be manacled and bound:
Good meaning shame, and such as seek loves wrack
Shall follow thee, their hands tied at their back.
Thee all shall fear, and worship as a king
To, triumphing shall thy people sing.
Smooth speeches, fear and rage shall by thee ride,
Which troops have always been on Cupid's side:
Thou with these soldiers conquer'st gods and men,
Take these away where is thine honor then?
Thy mother shall from heaven applaud this show,
And on their faces heaps of roses strow,
With beauty of thy wings, thy fair hair gilded,
Ride golden Love in chariots richly builded!
Unless I err, full many shalt thou burn,
And give wounds infinite at every turn.
In spite of thee, forth will thine arrows fly,
A scorching flame burns all the standers by.
So having conquer'd Inde, was Bacchus hue,
Thee pompous birds and him two tigers drew;
Then seeing I grace thy shew in following thee,
Forbear to hurt thyself in spoiling me.
Behold thy kinsman Cæsar's prosperous bands,
Who guards thee conquered with his conquering hands.
I ASK but right, let her that caught me late,
Either love, or cause that I may never hate :
I ask too much—would she but let me love her;
Jove knows with such like prayers I daily move her.
Accept him that will serve thee all his youth,
Accept him that will love thee with spotless truth.
If lofty titles cannot make me thine,
That am descended but of knightly line,
(Soon may you plough the little lands I have;
I gladly grant my parents given to save ;)
Apollo, Bacchus, and the Muses may;
And Cupid who hath mark'd me for thy prey;
My spotless life, which but to gods give place,
Naked simplicity, and modest grace.
I love but one, and her I love change never,
If men have faith, I'll live with thee for ever.
The years that fatal destiny shall give
I'll live with thee, and die, ere thou shalt grieve.
Be thou the happy subject of my books
That I may write things worthy thy fair looks.
By verses horned Io got her name;
And she to whom in shape of swan Jove came;
And she that on a feign'd Bull swam to land,
Griping his false horns with her virgin hand.
So likewise we will through the world be rung,
And with my name shall thine be always sung.
Amicam, qua arte, quibusque nutibus in cæna presente viro uti debeat, admonet.
THY husband to a banquet goes with me,
Pray God it may his latest supper be.
Shall I sit gazing as a bashful guest,
While others touch the damsel I love best?
Wilt lying under him, his bosom clip?
About thy neck shall he at pleasure skip?
Marvel not, though the fair bride did incite,
The drunken Centaurs to a sudden fight.
I am no half horse, nor in woods I dwell,
Yet scarce my hands from thee contain I well.
But how thou should'st behave thyself now know,
Nor let the winds away my warnings blow.
Before thy husband come, though I not see
What may be done, yet there before him be.
Lie with him gently, when his limbs he spread
Upon the bed, but on my feet first tread.
View me, my becks, and speaking countenance;
Take, and receive each secret amorous glance.
Words without voice shall on my eyebrows sit,
Lines thou shalt read in wine by my hand writ.
When our lascivious toys come to thy mind,
Thy rosy cheeks be to thy thumb inclin'd.
If ought of me thou speak'st in inward thought,
Let thy soft finger to thy ear be brought.
When I (my light!) do or say ought that please thee,
Turn round thy gold ring, as it were to ease thee.
Strike on the board like them that pray for evil,
When thou do'st wish thy husband at the devil.
What wine he fills thee, wisely will him drink,
Ask thou the boy, what thou enough do'st think.
When thou hast tasted, I will take the cup,
And where thou drink'st, on that part I will sup.
If he gives thee what first himself did taste,
Even in his face his offered goblets cast.
Let not thy neck by his vile arms be prest,
Nor leave thy soft head on his boisterous breast.
Thy bosom's roseate buds let him not finger,
Chiefly on thy lips let not his lips linger.
If thou giv'st kisses, I shall all disclose,
Say they are mine, and hands on thee impose.
Yet this I'll see, but if thy gown ought cover,
Suspicious fear in all my veins will hover.
Mingle not thighs, nor to his leg join thine,
Nor thy soft foot with his hard foot combine.
I have been wanton, therefore am perplex'd,
And with mistrust of the like measure vex'd.
I and my wench oft under cloths did lurk,
When pleasure mov'd us to our sweetest work.
Do not thou so, but throw thy mantle hence,
Lest I should think thee guilty of offence.
Entreat thy husband drink, but do not kiss,
And while he drinks, to add more do not miss ;
If he lies down with wine and sleep opprest,
The thing and place shall counsel us the rest.
When to go homewards we rise all, along
Have care to walk in middle of the throng.
There will I find thee or be found by thee,
There touch whatever thou can'st touch of me.
Aye me! I warn what profits some few hours,
But we must part, when heav'n with black night lowers.
At night thy husband clips, [and] I will weep
And to the doors sight of thyself [will] keep:
Then will he kiss thee, and not only kiss,
But force thee give him my stolen honey bliss."
Constrain'd against thy will give it the peasant,
Forbear sweet words, and be your sport unpleasant.
To him I pray it no delight may bring,
Or if it do, to thee no joy thence spring.
But though this night thy fortune be to try it,
To me to-morrow constantly deny it.
ELEGIA 5.*
Corinnæ concubitus.
In summer's heat, and mid-time of the day,
To rest my limbs, upon a bed I lay;
One window shut, the other open stood,
Which gave such light, as twinkles in a wood,
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