“When at moments she bends down her neck to thy kisses,
Or declines them with coy but not cruel denial,
Rather pleased if the prize be snatched off by the spoiler,
Nor slow in reprisal sometimes.”
Literally, “when she turns to meet the ardent kisses, or with a gentle cruelty denies what she would more delight to have ravished by the petitioner; sometimes she is eager to snatch them herself.”
In the Latin Anthology is an ode to another Lydia, by an unknown poet, but probably Gallus, which breathes throughout the rapturous idolatry of the enamored writer. We have only space for these lines:
“Unveil those rosy cheeks, o’erspread
With blushes of the Tyrian red,