A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus and of the poems of Sulpicia. With The Original Text, and Notes Critical and Explanatory. In two volumes. By James Grainger |
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3. | THE THIRD POEM.
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A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus | ||
245
THE THIRD POEM.
[Come, Phœbus! with your loosely floating Hair]
Come, Phœbus! with your loosely floating Hair,
O sooth her Torture, and restore the Fair!
Come, quickly come! we supplicant implore,
Such Charms your happy Skill ne'er sav'd before!
Let not her Frame, consumptive pine away,
Her Eyes grow languid, and her Bloom decay;
Propitious come! and with you bring along
Each pain-subduing Herb, and soothing Song;
Or real Ills, or whate'er Ills we fear,
To Ocean's farthest Verge let Torrents bear.
O! rack no more, with harsh, unkind Delays,
The Youth, who ceaseless for her Safety prays;
'Twixt Love and Rage his tortur'd Soul is torn;
And now he prays, now treats the Gods with Scorn.
O sooth her Torture, and restore the Fair!
Come, quickly come! we supplicant implore,
Such Charms your happy Skill ne'er sav'd before!
Let not her Frame, consumptive pine away,
Her Eyes grow languid, and her Bloom decay;
Propitious come! and with you bring along
Each pain-subduing Herb, and soothing Song;
Or real Ills, or whate'er Ills we fear,
To Ocean's farthest Verge let Torrents bear.
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The Youth, who ceaseless for her Safety prays;
'Twixt Love and Rage his tortur'd Soul is torn;
And now he prays, now treats the Gods with Scorn.
Take Heart, fond Youth! you have not vainly pray'd,
Still persevere to love th'inchanting Maid:
Sulpicia is your own! for you she sighs,
And slights all other Conquests of her Eyes:
Dry then your Tears; your Tears would fitly flow
Did she on others her Esteem bestow.
Still persevere to love th'inchanting Maid:
Sulpicia is your own! for you she sighs,
And slights all other Conquests of her Eyes:
Dry then your Tears; your Tears would fitly flow
Did she on others her Esteem bestow.
O come! what Honour will be yours, to save
At once two Lovers from the doleful Grave?
Then both will emulous exalt your Skill;
With grateful Tablets, both your Temples fill;
Both heap with spicy Gums your sacred Fire;
Both sing your Praises to th'harmonious Lyre:
Your Brother-Gods will prize your healing Powers,
Lament their Attributes, and envy yours.
At once two Lovers from the doleful Grave?
Then both will emulous exalt your Skill;
With grateful Tablets, both your Temples fill;
Both heap with spicy Gums your sacred Fire;
Both sing your Praises to th'harmonious Lyre:
Your Brother-Gods will prize your healing Powers,
Lament their Attributes, and envy yours.
A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus | ||