LIX.
Martial.
Ille dolet vere, qui sine teste dolet.
Let not thy tongue, thy inward thoughts disclose!
Or tell the sorrows that thy heart endures!
Let no man's ears be witness of thy woes!
Since pity, neither help nor ease procures:
And "only he is, truly, said to moan,
Whose griefs none knoweth but himself alone."
LX.
Alteri inserviens meipsum conficio.
A thousand times; I curse these idle rhymes,
Which do their Maker's follies vain set forth;
Yet bless I them again, as many times,
For that in them, I blaze Alcilia's worth.
Meanwhile, I fare, as doth the torch by night,
Which wastes itself in giving others light.
LXI.
Enough of this! For all is nought regarded!
And She, not once, with my complaints is moved.
Die, hapless love! since thou art not rewarded;
Yet ere thou die, to witness that I loved!
Report my truth! and tell the Fair unkind,
That "She hath lost, what none but She shall find!"
LXII.