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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| 5. | THE FIFTH POEM.
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 | A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus |  |
THE FIFTH POEM.
[With Feasts I'll ever grace the sacred Morn]
With Feasts I'll ever grace the sacred Morn,
When my Cerinthus, lovely Youth! was born.
At Birth, to you th'unerring Sisters sung
Unbounded Empire o'er the Gay and Young:
But I, chief I! (if you my Love repay,)
With Rapture own your ever-pleasing Sway.
This I conjure you, by your charming Eyes,
Where Love's soft God in wanton Ambush lies!
This by your Genius, and the Joys we stole,
Whose sweet Remembrance still enchants my Soul!
When my Cerinthus, lovely Youth! was born.
At Birth, to you th'unerring Sisters sung
Unbounded Empire o'er the Gay and Young:
But I, chief I! (if you my Love repay,)
With Rapture own your ever-pleasing Sway.
This I conjure you, by your charming Eyes,
Where Love's soft God in wanton Ambush lies!
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Whose sweet Remembrance still enchants my Soul!
Great natal Genius! grant my Heart's Desire,
So shall I heap with costly Gums your Fire!
Whenever Fancy paints me to the Boy,
Let his Breast pant with an impatient Joy:
But if the Libertine for others sigh
(Which Love forbid!) O Love! your Aid deny.
Nor, Love! be partial, let us both confess
The pleasing Pain, or make my Passion less.
But O! much rather 'tis my Soul's Desire,
That both may feel an equal, endless Fire.
So shall I heap with costly Gums your Fire!
Whenever Fancy paints me to the Boy,
Let his Breast pant with an impatient Joy:
But if the Libertine for others sigh
(Which Love forbid!) O Love! your Aid deny.
Nor, Love! be partial, let us both confess
The pleasing Pain, or make my Passion less.
But O! much rather 'tis my Soul's Desire,
That both may feel an equal, endless Fire.
In secret my Cerinthus begs the same,
But the Youth blushes to confess his Flame:
Assent, thou God! to whom his Heart is known,
Whether he public ask, or secret own.
But the Youth blushes to confess his Flame:
Assent, thou God! to whom his Heart is known,
Whether he public ask, or secret own.
| A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus | |