University of Virginia Library

ODE XI. To Pettius.

Since Love possess'd my feeble Heart,
I've quite forsook my Lyrick Art:
No Breast like mine is rack'd with Pains,
Where all the wanton Tyrant reigns;
New Beauties still my Soul inflame,
Some lovely Boy, or gentle Dame.
But three Years since, Inachia's Eyes
Did my unguarded Heart surprize:
With Shame my amorous Guilt I own,
How was I rally'd by the Town?
Of all those Hours I now repent,
In Feasting and in Revels spent;
When Silence, Languishments, and Sighs,
Which from the heaving Bosom rise,
Betray the Lover's secret Pain.
How often did I then complain,
That Truth and Virtue were despis'd,
And only wealthy Coxcombs priz'd?
Soon as the God, the generous Bowl,
Unlock'd the Secrets of my Soul,
How would I in my Rage protest!
Resolve to ease my tortur'd Breast!
Let Winds and Waves my Hopes confound,
That sooth'd, but could not heal the Wound!
No more I will ambitious prove,
But on my Equals fix my Love;
Thus I could dare, and boast with you,
Yet when we part, and bid adieu,
My stubborn Feet unheeded stray,
And wander the forbidden Way:
There at her cruel Door complain,
And turn my restless Sides with Pain.
But now Lyciscus, lovely Boy,
Soft as a Maid, is all my Joy;
For whom such Torments I endure,
Nor Jest, nor grave Advice can cure;
No Remedy the Pain remove,
But such another Fit of Love;
A gentle Nymph, or Youth as fair,
Who rolls in Curls his flowing Hair.