 | Lucasta |  |
[Quinti Catuli.] Englished.
As once I bad good morning to the day,O' th' sudden Roscius breaks in a bright Ray:
Gods with your favour, I've presum'd to see,
A mortal fairer then a Deitie.
With looks and hands a Satyre courts the boy,
Who draws back his unwilling Cheek as coy.
Although of Marble hewn, whom move not they?
The Boy Ey'n seems to weep the Satyre pray.
| Lucasta | |