English

A stream in Sparta here you see,
With Leda from all veilings free,
And Zeus as swan arrayed.
Ye little Loves who lure me on,
What bird shall I become? A swan?
A goose, I am afraid.

I have drunk deep of love: last night she came
And with her kisses set my soul aflame.
Such fragrant nectar even gods above
May scarcely know: I have drunk deep of love.

" Naught in excess," the wise man said;
But I with pride was flown;
" My charms," said I, " have won the maid,
Her heart is all my own."

But she, it seems, was full of guile,
The girl I thought my slave;
No more she wears that humble smile,
Her looks are stern and grave.

And I have had a cruel fall,
Who but now soared so high;
The braggart knight is held in thrall,
His arms defeated lie.

Upon my knees I kiss her dress
And cry as I bend low,
" Forgive my youthful foolishness,

A lad knows nothing of the woes
That we poor lasses bear,
Among his comrades blithe he goes
And friends his sorrows share.

He has his games, whene'er he please,
He strolls from street to street,
He finds delight in all he sees,
His eyes bright colours meet.

But we poor girls are hid away
We never see the light,
We brood in solitude by day
And weep alone at night.

We live as though in dungeons sealed
Where no men ever come:
Unkissed, uncourted, unrevealed,

Were they a token those apples,
Tokens of love,
Sent from the warmth of thy bosom
Ardour to prove?
Take all my thanks, dearest maiden, for then
Those apples make me the richest of men.

But if they brought me no promise,
Sure 'twere a shame
Lightly to kindle my passion
Nor quench the flame.
Be not more cruel than Telephus found
Spear of the foeman to cure his wound.

I was anxious to know if my mistress was true,
So I thought of a trick that would test darling Sue.
— I must leave you, — I said, — for a season, my dear,
— Don't forget me too soon, I'll be back in a year. —
At once she leaped up sobbing loud from our bed,
Her hair flying loose and her cheeks flaming red,
And beating her face with a pitiful cry
— Do not leave me, — she sobbed, — or I surely shall die. —
So I yielded the point in a stiff sort of way,
And said with an air, — I suppose I must stay. —

They would not let me kiss my dear,
So how we tricked them you shall hear.
We stretched her zone from lip to lip
And let our kisses downward slip.
Just as a gardener with his hose
Directs the water as it flows.
She from one end the current sped,
I sent a backward tide instead;
Our ferries passed and passed again,
And so we respite found from pain.

Close I held her all the night,
But she never ceased to grieve
From the hour when softly bright
Rose the star of eve —

" Cruel, cruel," was her cry,
" Harbinger of coming morn,
Soon the night will pass, and I
Shall be left forlorn."

Naught is sweet to Passion's slave;
All too short the hours of sleep;
Would that we such nights might have
As Cimmerians keep.

Time cannot conquer Nature; that I see
Whene'er I look on slender Meliti.
What though her years are counted by the score,
What though old age holds wide for her the door!
Her girlish wantonness she still retains,
Her cheeks are bright, the charm of youth remains,
Nor do her eyes forget their ancient art,
One fleeting glance and lo, she's snared your heart.

And are you too in pain and do your eyes
Burn with the tears that all unbidden rise?
Or do you lie in slumber soft and deep
And of my love nor thought nor reckoning keep?
Ah, my Philinna, you will suffer yet
And I shall see your cheeks with teardrops wet.
Venus is cruel, but she knoweth how
Beneath her wrath to make a proud maid bow.