University of Virginia Library

The Twelfth ELEGY of the Second Book of Propertius.

Who first drew Cupid a young Boy, and blind,
With Skill, no doubt, the moral Piece design'd.
He saw how Lovers with fond Childish Play
Lavish in idle Cares their Hours away.
His Airy Wings the Artist too exprest,
Flutt'ring in wanton Sport from Breast to Breast.
(For so our Hopes no constant Measures know,
And Tides of Love alternate ebb and flow;)
And arm'd his little Hands with pointed Darts,
To shew his Tyranny o'er human Hearts.
With fatal Certainty he draws his Bow,
And unobserv'd directs the silent Blow.
Too well I kenn how each fell Arrow Stings;
But sure the Wand'rer now has lost his Wings:
For settled here, he rages in my Breast,
And my poor wearied Soul can find no Rest.
Ah cease a wretched Spectre to invade!
Attack some blooming Youth, or haughty Maid:
Me thy old Servant, and thy Poet spare;
Else who shall sing the Triumphs of thy War?
My Muse oppress'd, now scarce one Note can raise;
Restore my Liberty, I'll sound thy Praise.
I will describe thy Cynthia's Air and Mien,
Those Eyes, that Shape, that Grace in Motion seen.
Harmonious Beauty shall my Song inspire;
And Love's bright Torch shall set the World on Fire.