Rue it not, dear, that so swiftly thy tenderness yielded thee to me—
Dream not again that I think lightly or lowly of thee.
Divers the arrows of Love: from some that but graze on the surface,
Softly the poison is shed, slowly to sicken the heart;
Others, triumphantly feather'd, and pointed with exquisite mischief,
Rush to the mark, and the glow quivers at once in the blood.
In the heroical time when to Love the Deities yielded,
Follow'd desire on a glance, follow'd enjoyment desire.
Deem'st thou the parley was long when Anchises had pleased Aphroditë,
Catching her eye as she roved deep in the woodlands of Ide?
Or that if Luna had paused about wooing her beautiful Sleeper,
Jealous Aurora's approach would not have startled the boy?
Hero had glanced on Leander but once at the Festival—instant
Plunges the passionate youth into the night-mantled wave.
Rhea in maidenly glee caroll'd down with her urn to the Tiber—
But in a moment she sank mute on the breast of the God:
Hence the illustrious Twins that were nursed in the den of the She-wolf;
Worthy of Mars were the boys:—Rome was the Queen of the World.
EPIGRAMS.
Anacreon's Grave.
Wo die Rose hier blüht, wo Reben um Lorbeer sich schlingen
Wo das Turtelchen lockt, wo sich das Grillchen ergezt,
Welch ein grab est hier, das alle Götter mit Leben
Schön bepflanzt und geziert? Es ist Anacreons Ruh.
Frühling, Sommer und Herbst genoss der glückliche Dichter,
Vor dem Winter hat ihn endlich der hügel geschützt.
Here where the Rose is in bloom, the Vine and the Laurel entwining—
Here where the Turtle invites—here where the Grasshopper springs,
Whose is this grave in the midst, which the Gods with life and with beauty
Thus have circled and decked?—This is Anacreon's Tomb.
Spring, and Summer, and Autumn, the joyous spirit had tasted,
And from the Winter he hides under this hillock of green.
The Warning.
Wecke den Amor nicht auf! Noch schäft der liebliche Knabe
Geh! vollbring dein Geshäft, wie es der Tag dir gebeut!
So der Zeit bedienet sich klug die sorgliche Mutter,
Wenn ihr Knäbchen entschläft, denn es erwacht nur zu bald.
Waken not Love from his sleep! The boy lies buried in slumber;
Go, and, while leisure is left, finish the task of to-day;
Even as a diligent mother, who, seizing the hour as it passes,
Works while her child is asleep—knowing he'll waken too soon.