GAZE fondly on thy mirrored face,
And there thine imaged beauty trace;
But if, perchance by magic art,
That mirror could portray thy heart,
Down to the dust the glass thou’dst fling,
That could portray so vile a thing!
TRANSLATIONS
Horace; Ode ix., Book iii.
HORACE.
While I could thy soul inflame,
And no other dared thee claim,
Persia’s monarch could not be
Half so blest as I with thee.
LYDIA.
While I flamed thy soul’s first fire,
Ere Chloe could thy soul inspire,
Such heavenly glory then was mine,
As Ilia’s fame could not outshine.
HORACE.