To Cupid.

O Cupid, never angered enough against me, O boy, that hast taken up thy abode in my heart! why dost thou torment me, who, thy soldier, have never deserted thy standards? And why, in my own camp, am I thus wounded? Why does thy torch burn, thy bow pierce, thy friends? 'Twere a greater glory to conquer those who war with thee. Nay more, did not the HÆmonian hero, afterwards, relieve him, when wounded, with his healing aid, whom he had struck with his spear. 390 The hunter follows the prey that flies, that which is caught he leaves behind; and he is ever on the search for still more than he has found. We, a multitude devoted to thee, are too well acquainted with thy arms; yet thy tardy hand slackens against the foe that resists. Of what use is it to be blunting thy barbed darts against bare bones? for Love has left my bones quite bare. Many a man is there free from Love, many a damsel, too, free from Love; from these, with great glory, may a triumph be obtained by thee.

Rome, had she not displayed her strength over the boundless earth, would, even to this day, have been planted thick with cottages of thatch. 391 The invalid soldier is drafted off to the fields 392 that he has received; the horse, when free from the race, 393 is sent into the pastures; the lengthened docks conceal the ship laid up; and the wand of repose 394 is demanded, the sword laid by. It were time for me, too, who have served so oft in love for the fair, now discharged, to be living in quiet.

And yet, if any Divinity were to say to me, 'Live on, resigning love I should decline it; so sweet an evil are the fair. When I am quite exhausted, and the passion has faded from my mind, I know not by what perturbation of my wretched feelings I am bewildered. Just as the horse that is hard of mouth bears his master headlong, as he vainly pulls in the reins covered with foam; just as a sudden gale, the land now nearly made, carries out to sea the vessel, as she is entering harbour; so, many a time, does the uncertain gale of Cupid bear me away, and rosy Love resumes his well-known weapons. Pierce me, boy; naked am I exposed to thee, my arms laid aside; hither let thy strength be directed: here thy right hand tells with effect. Here, as though bidden, do thy arrows now spontaneously come; in comparison to myself, their own quiver is hardly so well known to them.

Wretched is he who endures to rest the whole night, and who calls slumber a great good. Fool, what is slumber but the image of cold death? The Fates will give abundance of time for taking rest.

Only let the words of my deceiving mistress beguile me; in hoping, at least, great joys shall I experience. And sometimes let her use caresses; sometimes let her find fault; oft may I enjoy the favour of my mistress; often may I be repulsed. That Mars is one so dubious, is through thee, his step-son, Cupid; and after thy example does thy step-father wield his arms. Thou art fickle, and much more wavering than thy own wings; and thou both dost give and refuse thy joys at thy uncertain caprice. Still if thou dost listen to me, as I entreat thee, with thy beauteous mother; hold a sway never to be relinquished in my heart. May the damsels, a throng too flighty by far, be added to thy realms; then by two peoples wilt thou be revered.