University of Virginia Library

Translated from the Italian Poets. ODE XXXII.

My Dear, if my unruly Lips have prest
With amorous Rage thy snowy Breast,
Impute it unto ev'ry Grace,
Thy killing Eyes, thy charming Face:
But if you're loath to pardon me,
Let me repair the Injury;
Let me embrace and kiss again,
That surely will inhance my pain;
The Kisses which I stole away,
On my rack'd Soul like Vultures prey;
Lifeless, alas, and pale I grow,
I'm just now going to the Shades below.
But if you'l kiss again, then I
Shall surely pine away and die:
Come now, my Soul, let's kiss again,
Its that will put me out of Pain;
Its fit that I should live no more,
For what I stole from thee before.