ts, none of thine.
What, if thy mother take Diana's[130] bow,
Shall Dian fan when love begins to glow?
In woody groves is't meet that Ceres reign,
And quiver-bearing Dian till the plain? 10
Who'll set the fair-tressed Sun in battle-ray
While Mars doth take the Aonian harp to play?
Great are thy kingdoms, over-strong and large,
Ambitious imp, why seek'st thou further charge?
Are all things thine? the Muses' Tempe thine?
Then scarce can Phoebus say, "This harp is mine."
When[131] in this work's first verse I trod aloft,
Love slaked my muse, and made my numbers soft:
I have no mistress nor no favourite,
Being fittest matter for a wanton wit. 20
Thus I complained, but Love unlocked his quiver,
Took out the shaft, ordained my heart to shiver,
And bent his sinewy bow upon his knee,
Saying, "Poet, here's a work beseeming thee."
O, woe is me! he never shoots but hits,
I burn, love in my idle bosom sits:
Let my first verse be six, my last five feet:
Farewell stern war, for blunter poets meet!
Elegian muse, that warblest amorous lays,
Girt my shine[132] brow with seabank myrtle sprays.[133] 30
FOOTNOTES:
[128] So the Isham copy. Ed. A. "the."
[129] Isham copy and ed. A. "vpreard, I meane."
[130] The original has--
"Quid? si praeripiat flavae Venus arma _Minervae_
Ventilet accensas flavae _Minerva_ comas."
[131]
"Cum bene surrexit versu nova pagina, primo!
At tenuat nervos proximus ille meos."
[132] Sheen.
[133] Dyce's correction for "praise" of the old eds.
ELEGIA II.
Quod primo amore correptus, in triumphum duci se a Cupidine patiatur.
What makes my bed seem hard seeing it is soft?
Or why slips down the coverlet so oft?
Although the nights be long I sleep not tho[134]
My sides are sore with tumbling to and fro.
Were love the cause it's like I should descry him,
Or lies he close and shoots where none can spy him?
'Twas so; he strook me with a slender dart;
'Tis cruel Love turmoils my captive heart.
Yielding or striving[135] do we give him might,
Let's yield, a burden easily borne is light. 10
I saw a brandished fire increase in strength,
Which being not shak'd, I saw it die at length.
Young oxen newly yoked are beaten more,
Than o
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