Ho. What if our old flame recover,

And our hearts again fubdue,
While the portal of your lover,
Shut to Chloe, opes to you?

Ly. Tho' he be as bright as brightness,
Thou with cork, or with the sea,
Well compar'd for wrath and lightness,
I could live and die with thee.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

Lydia?-LYD.-Tho' he be fairer than a ftar, you lighter than cork, and more wrathful than the violent Adriatic, I could love to live with thee, with thee willingly die.

ODE

Lycen monet, ut pofitâ duritie fibi fupplici parcat.

EXTREMUM Tanaim fi biberes, Lyce,
Sævo nupta viro, me tamen afperas
Porrectum ante fores objicere incolis
Plorares Aquilonibus."

Audis quo ftrepitu janua, quo nemus
Inter pulchra fitum tecta remugiat
Ventis? Et pofitas ut glaciet nives
Puro numine Jupiter?

Ingratam Veneri pone fuperbiam :
Ne currente retro funis eat rotâ.
Non te Penelopen difficilem procis
Tyrrhenus genuit parens.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

O Lyce! had you drank the remoteft Tanais, married to a favage hufband, yet you might have regretted to expofe me ftretched out before your cruel doors to the north winds, the inhabitants of thofe regions. Do you hear with what a whistling your gate, with what a howling the grove, fituated amongst the fair ftructures, rebellows to the winds; and how Jupiter glazes the fettled fnow with the clearness of his influence? Caft off that arrogance that is unacceptable to Venus, left the rope* fhould go back with the turning of the wheel.

Left the bold you have of your lovers fhould fail you by a reverse of fortune.

O DE X.

UPON LYCE.

He advifes Lyce to lay afide bardheartedness, and to be mild to him in his ftate of fubmiffion.

FAR away, where Tanais flows,

Had you been a Scythian's wife-
Yet to fee a man expofe,

At your cruel doors, his life,
To the northern blasts a prey,
Might have fill'd you with dismay.

Hear you not the creeking door,
How the winds, in ruffian haste,
Make the grove trees howl and roar
Round the piles of Attic tafte;
And how Jove, with purer air,
Glazes fnow that fettles there!

To the queen of softer mould
Caft away ungrateful pride,

Left you chance to lose your hold,
When the knot of love's unty'd.
You're not of the Tufcan breed,

Right Penelope indeed.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

wheel. A Tyrrhenian fire did not beget you an inacceffible Penelope to your fuitors. O! though neither gifts, nor in

treaties,

O, quamvis neque te munera, nec preces

Nec tinctus violâ pallor amantium,

Nec vir Pieriâ pellice faucius
Curvat, fupplicibus tuis
Parcas, nec rigidâ mollior efculo,
Nec Mauris animum mitior anguibus.
Non hoc femper erit liminis aut aquæ
Cœleftis patiens latus.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

treaties, nor the paleness of your lovers tinged with violet, nor a husband fmitten with a mufical harlot, bring you down; yet spare thy fuppliants, a mistress, no fofter in

your

difpofition

Tho' nor bribes nor pray'rs prevail

On that harden'd breast of thine, Nor complexion, violet-pale,

Nor your spouse, who, 'midft his wine, Wounded by the vocal art

Of a minstrel, yields his heart.

Spare, yet fpare your fuppliant fwains,
Rougher than th' obdurate oak,
Or the fnakes, which Moorish plains
To feverer spite provoke-
Conftitution cannot laft,

Thus to bear the stormy blaft.

PROSE INTERPRETATION

difpofition than the ftiff oak, nor gentler than the ferpent of Mauritania. This conftitution will not always hold out against your threshold and the ftormy weather...

VOL. I.

T

ODE