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This text is part of the Internet History Sourcebooks Project. The Sourcebooks are collections of public domain and copy-permitted texts related to all aspects of history. Unless otherwise indicated the specific electronic form of the document is copyright. Permission is granted for electronic copying, distribution in print form for educational purposes and personal use. If you do reduplicate the document, indicate the source.

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No permission is granted for commercial use. Although the IHSP seeks to follow all applicable copyright law, Fordham University is not the institutional owner, and is not liable as the result of any legal action. Who burn with love, grow aged in a day. As much as apples sweet the damson crude Excel; the blooming spring the winter rude; In fleece the sheep her lamb; the maiden in sweetness The thrice-wed dame; the fawn the calf in fleetness; The nightingale in song all feathered kind- So much thy longed-for presence cheers my mind.

To thee I hasten, as to shady beech, The traveller, when from the heaven's reach The sun fierce blazes. May our love be strong, To all hereafter times the theme of song! They loved of old Both golden natures in an age of gold. O father Zeus! Two hundred ages hence may one recall, Down-coming to the irremeable river, This to my mind, and this good news deliver: 'E'en now from east to west, from north to south, Your mutual friendship lives in every mouth' This, as they please, th' Olympians will decide: Of thee, by blooming virtue beautified, My glowing song shall only truth disclose; With falsehood's pustules I'll not shame my nose.

If thou dost sometime grieve me, sweet the pleasure Of reconcilement, joy in double measure To find thou never didst intend the pain, And feel myself from all doubt free again. And ye Megarians, at Nesaea dwelling, Expert at rowing, mariners excelling, Be happy ever! With the first blush of spring The youth surround his tomb: there who shall bring The sweetest kiss.

Nice touch the arbiter must have indeed, And must, methinks, the blue-eyed Ganymede Invoke with many prayers-a mouth to own True to the touch of lips, as Lydian stone To proof of gold-which test will instant show The pure or base. I know; for half my time Is spent in gazing on thy beauty's prime; The other half is nought. When thou art good, My days are like the gods'; but when the mood Tormenting takes thee, 'tis my night of woe.

How were it right to vex a lover so? Take my advice, my lad, thine elder friend, 'Twill make thee glad and grateful in the end: In one tree build one nest, so no grim snake May creep upon thee. For to-day thou'lt make Thy home on one branch, and to-morrow changing Wilt seek another, to what's new still ranging; And should a stranger praise your handsome face, Him more than three-year-proven friend you'll grace.

While him who loved you first you'll treat as cold As some acquaintanceship of three days old. Though fliest high, methinks, in love and pride; But I would say: keep ever at thy side A mate that is thine equal; doing so, The townsfolk shall speak well of thee alway, And love shall never visit thee with woe- Love that so easily men's hearts can flay, And mine has conquered that was erst of steel.

Nay, by thy gracious lips I make appeal: Remember thou wert younger a year agone And we grow grey and wrinkled, all, or e'er We can escape our doom; of mortals none His youth retakes again, for azure wings Are on her shoulders, and we sons of care Are all too slow to catch such flying things. Mindful of this, be gentle, is my prayer, And love me, guileless, ev'n as I love thee; So when thou has a beard, such friends as were Achilles and Patroclus we may be.