Comes forth, her unkembed[412] locks asunder tearing.
Nemesis and thy first wench join their kisses
With thine, nor this last fire their presence misses.
Delia departing, "Happier loved," she saith,
"Was I: thou liv'dst, while thou esteem'dst my faith."
Nemesis answers, "What's my loss to thee?
His fainting hand in death engrasped me."
If aught remains of us but name and spirit,
Tibullus doth Elysium's joy inherit. 60
Their youthful brows with ivy girt to meet him,
With Calvus learned Catullus comes, and greet him;
And thou, if falsely charged to wrong thy friend,
Callus, that car'dst[413] not blood and life to spend,
With these thy soul walks: souls if death release,
The godly[414] sweet Tibullus doth increase.
Thy bones, I pray, may in the urn safe rest,
And may th' earth's weight thy ashes naught molest.

FOOTNOTES:

[408] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[409] Ed. B "Eeliga"--Ed. C "Elegia."

[410]

"Fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicunt
Egressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis."

[411] The original has--

"Aelinon in silvis idem pater, aelinon, altis
Dicitur invita concinuisse lyra."

In Marlowe's copy the couplet must have been very different.

[412] Old eds. "vnkeembe" and "unkeemb'd."

[413] Old eds. "carst."

[414] "Auxisti numeros, culte Tibulle, pios."

ELEGIA X.[415]

Ad Cererem, conquerens quod ejus sacris cum amica concumbere non
permittatur.

Come were the times of Ceres' sacrifice;
In empty bed alone my mistress lies.
Golden-haired Ceres crowned with ears of corn,
Why are our pleasures by thy means forborne?
Thee, goddess, bountiful all nations judge,
Nor less at man's prosperity any grudge.
Rude husbandmen baked not their corn before,
Nor on the earth was known the name of floor.[416]
On mast of oaks, first oracles, men fed;
This was their meat, the soft grass was their bed. 10
First Ceres taught the seed in fields to swell,
And ripe-eared corn with sharp-edged scythes to fell.
She first constrained bulls' necks to bear the yoke,
And untilled ground with crooked ploughshares broke.
Who thinks her to be glad at lovers' smart,
And worshipped by their pain and lying apart?
Nor is she, though she loves the fertile fields,
A clown, nor no love from her warm breast yields:
B