The works of Horace, translated into verse With a prose interpretation, for the help of students. And occasional notes. By Christopher Smart ... In four volumes |
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| XIII. | EPODE XIII. TO HIS MISTRESS NEÆRA |
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 | The works of Horace, translated into verse |  |
209
EPODE XIII. TO HIS MISTRESS NEÆRA
Of whose perjury he makes complaint.
When Luna shone serene,
Midst stars in lesser order trib'd;
When you, about to break
The league of Gods, didst speak
The form of words that I prescrib'd.
And round my neck you flung
Your pliant arms, and clung
With more tenacious fond embrace;
Than to the lofty oak
The ivy—while you spoke,
And vow'd your vow upon the place.
“While wolf the lamb devours,
“And while Orion low'rs
“On sailors in the wintry sea;
“And while Apollo's hair,
“Flows to the sportive air,
“This love of ours shou'd mutual be!”
O nymph about to pine,
For these resolves of mine;
For if my manhood yet remain,
I will no rival bear,
Neæra's bed to share,
But love shall seek for love again.
211
With her, who gave offence,
My flame with any new desire;
When once the rankling smart,
Has setled in my heart,
And fix'd me in determin'd ire.
But you, whoe'er you are,
Of more propitious star,
That strut'st triumphant o'er my woe;
Tho' rich in land and stock,
And by your feeding flock,
For thee in gold Pactolus flow.
Tho' thou canst con each page,
Of that transmuted sage,
Than Nireus handsomer appear;
Yet thou shalt soon lament,
A similar event,
And I in turn shall laugh and sneer.
| The works of Horace, translated into verse | |