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TO CAMERIUS.

55.

BESEECH you, if 'tis not impertinent, say,
In what cunning corner you're hidden away.
In vain have I sought you in park and in hall,
In the Temple of Jove, in the libraries all;
The Circus I've traversed with no better fate,
And coursed through the gardens of Pompey the Great.
I stopp'd all the wenches, wherever I went,

And especially those who look'd pleased and content.
"My friend, my Camerius, where does he hide?
Restore him, ye mischievous minxes!" I cried.
One, her bosom unbaring, made answer to me,
“He's hidden in here 'mongst the roses, you see!"
But if you were pillow'd where such roses grow,
Not Hercules' self could dislodge you, I know.

Come, out with the truth, friend! No shirking! But speak,

? Well,

Where are we for you in the future to seek?
Has some milk-white damsel enchanted you
If to no one the tale of your triumph you tell,
You waste all its fruits, for love revels in this,
To be evermore babbling and boasting its bliss.
Or be dumb, if you'd rather no confidence make,
Only let me with her your affection partake.

For though I were Talus, that guardian of Crete,
Or Ladas, or Perseus, with wings to my feet,
Or wafted on Pegasus, or the snow-white
Swift coursers of Rhesus; or should I unite

In myself all the swiftness of all living things,

That have plumes at their heels, or that flutter on wings;

Or though, my Camerius, I added to those

The concentrated speed of each tempest that blows,

Yet I should be wearied and mortified too,

And utterly jaded in seeking for you.

THE EPITHALAMIUM OF JULIA AND MANLIUS.

61

RANIA'S son, whose home is on
The heights of skyey Helicon,
Who the virgin in her bloom
Bringest to her lusty groom,
Hymen, hear, thou lovers' friend,
Hear, and hither blithely wend!

Flowers around these brows of thine
Of sweet marjoram entwine;
Bring the scarf with hue of flame,
Type and veil of maiden shame;
Come, and on thy snowy feet
Let the saffron sandals meet!

In this day, when all rejoice,
Laugh, and, with thy silvery voice
Carolling the nuptial song,

Dance with jocund feet along,

And aloft within thy hand

Wave the blazing pine-tree brand!

Julia doth with Manlius wed;
Omens blest surround their bed :
Good she is, and fair, and bright
As the Queen of Ida's height,
Venus, when the prize to claim
To the Phrygian judge she came.

As the fragrant myrtle, found
Flourishing on Asian ground,
Thick with blossoms overspread,
By the Hamadryads fed
For their sport with honey-dew,
All so sweet is she to view.

Hither, then, thyself betake,
And a little while forsake
The Aonian grottoes hid
Thespia's rocky wolds amid,
Wash'd in many a plashy pool
By Aganippe's waters cool.

And call the lady home with soul
Submissive to her lord's control;

Around her heart love's tendrils bind,
Until, like clasping ivy twined
Around a stately tree, they hold
It mazed in meshes manifold.

And you, ye stainless virgins, whom A day awaits of kindred doom, Combine to give her welcoming, And here with us in measure sing, Oh Hymen, Hymenæus, thou Attend us with thy blessing now!

That summon'd by your voices chaste,
He may to do his office haste,

And hither wend more swift and sure,
The harbinger of blisses pure,
Who doth for evermore delight

True hearts in wedlock to unite.

F

What god shall worshipp'd be above
This god, yea this, by all who love?
Or which of the celestials find
More adoration from mankind?
Oh Hymen, Hymenæus, thou
Attend us with thy blessing now!

Thee doth the parent full of dread
Implore to bless his children's bed ;
For thee, for thee, the virgin chaste
Unclasps the girdle from her waist;
The bridegroom lists with throbbing heart,
Till thou within the chamber art.

The maiden all in blushes dress'd,

Thou bearest from her mother's breast,

And giv'st into her lover's arms,

That close triumphant on her charms.
Oh Hymen, Hymenæus, thou
Attend us with thy blessing now!

Without thee love no bliss can reap,
And its good name unsullied keep;
But it is blest, yet pure the while,
If thou upon its raptures smile.
Oh, which of all the gods in bliss
Is worthy to compare with this?

Without thee can no home beget
An honour'd progeny, nor yet
The parent in the heir survive,
But with thee all his blossoms thrive.

Oh, which of all the gods in bliss

Is worthy to compare with this ?

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