University of Virginia Library

The Third Elegy of the Fourth Book of Tibullas, translated.

Sulpitia to Cerinthus.

Ye Savage Beasts, whom Nature entertains
In the by-Lodgings of the Desart Plains,
Pity my Boy, bent on some noble Prey,
And thou kind Cupid at his Elbow stay.
Perhaps, by Passion hurl'd, he's led so far,
He'll want the Guidance of some gentle Star.
Curse on the Woods and all that sordid Game,
Let the Dogs faulter, and ne're find again:
Why are you fond to visit ev'ry Cell,
Where Death, with Fury charg'd, stands Centinel?
Prithee forbear, see how the Briars hide
Their crooked Heads in your most tender Side;
But if I might Cerinthus chase with you,
I'd be content to bear the Burthen too:
The hated Woods would please me then, if I
By the same hunting Nets with thee could lye:
No Lion then would dare to threaten thee,
He'd lose his Rage, as he still gaz'd on me,
My very Eyes sufficient Charms would prove
To melt his Springs of Fierceness into Love.
But still remember poor Orion's State,
Be chaste, and never boldly tempt your Fate.
If any one should strive to disposess
Our Souls of this Platonick Happiness;
Let her for breaking of Diana's Laws,
Fall a sure Victim to the Lion's Paws:
But in the mean, my Boy, give o're that Game,
And on my Breast quench your unruly Flame.