University of Virginia Library

XII.

[Epicedes, defying frosts and snows]

Epicedes, defying frosts and snows,
Hunts o'er the mountains and his game pursues:

176

But give him, what you will, already slain,
The game he scorns, and sends it back again:
Such is my love: I court the fair that flies,
But easy conquests with proud scorn despise.