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Ho. What if our old flame recover,

And our hearts again subdue,
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 star, you lighter than cork, and more wrathful than the violent Adriatic, I could love to live with thec, with thee willingly die.

ODE

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Lycen monet, ut pofitâ duritie

sibi supplici parcat.

EXTREMUM Tanaim fi biberes, Lyce,
Sævo nupta viro, me tamen asperas
Porrectum ante fores objicere incolis

Plorares Aquilonibus.
' Audis quo ftrepitu janua, quo nemus
Inter pulchra fitum tecta remugiat
Ventis ? Et positas ut glaciet nives

Puro numine Jupiter ?
Ingratam Veneri pone superbiam :
Ne currente retro, funis eat rotâ.
Non te Penelopen difficilem procis

Tyrrhenus genuit parens.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

O Lyce! had you drank the remotest Tanais, married to a savage husband, yet you might have regretted to expose me stretched out before your cruel doors to the north winds, the inhabitants of those regions. Do you hear with what a whistling your gate, with what a howling the grove, situated amongst the fair structures, rebellows to the winds; and how Jupiter glazes the settled snow with the clearness of his influence! Cast 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 should fail you by a reverse of fortune.

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He advises Lyce to lay aside bardbeartedness, and to be

mild to him in his state of submision.

FAR away, where Tanais flows,

Had you been a Scythian's wife
Yet to see a man expose,

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 taste;
And how Jove, with purer air,
Glazes snow that settles there!

To the queen of softer mould

Cast away ungrateful pride, Left you

chance to lose your hold, When the knot of love's unty'd. You're not of the Tuscan breed, Right Penelope indeed.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

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

treaties,

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O, quamvis neque te munera, nec preces
Nec cinctus violâ pallor amantium,
Nec vir Pieriâ pellice saucius

Curvat, supplicibus tuis
Parcas, nec rigidâ mollior esculo,
Nec Mauris animum mitior anguibus.
Non hoc semper erit liminis aut aquæ

Cæleftis patiens latus.

PROSE INTERPRETATION. treaties, nor the paleness of your lovers tinged with violet, nor a husband smitten with a musical harlot, bring you down ; yet spare thy suppliants, á mistress, no softer in your

disposition

Thonor 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 spare your suppliant swains,

Rougher than th' obdurate oak,
Or the snakes, which Moorish plains

To severer spite provoke-
Conftitution cannot last,
Thus to bear the stormy blast.

PROSE INTERPRETATION disposition than the stiff oak, nor gentler than the serpent of Mauritania. This constitution will not always hold out against your threshold and the stormy weather.

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