vos, nymphae et pecorum duces,

neu Lado choreas nectere gaudeat

praetexens vada liliis,

neu Pani videant sacra cacumina

Cylleneve diutius

incertum trepidos ad iubar ordines.

vos arces Erymanthiae

plorent, dum melior det plaga gratiam.

vestras Maenaleis procul

saxis his pecudes addite pascuis:

hic nostri nemoris dea

cultorum veniet lenior agmini.

ut vestro placeat deo

Syrinx, iure tamen pareat huic erae Syrinx: nec dea rusticos

hac unquam tenuit pulcrior Arcadas.

Ode.

I.

THE merchant, to conceal his treasure,
Conveys it in a borrow'd name;
Euphelia serves to grace my measure,
But Cloe is my real flame.

II.

My softest verse, my darling lyre

Upon Euphelia's toilet lay,

When Cloe noted her desire

That I should sing, that I should play.

Ad Chloen.

Ut proprias ficto qui mittunt nomine merces

dumque opibus metuont infitiantur opes,

sic in amore Chloes Glycerae mentimur amorem : haec speciem confert versibus, illa facem.

nugor apud Glyceram: mecum lyra cessat ibidem, apta satis domini questibus, apta dolis:

versiculos idem attuleram non melle carentes:

forte rogat, nectam verba modosque, Chloe.

III.

My lyre I tune, my voice I raise,

And with my numbers mix my sighs;

And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise,

I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes.

IV.

Fair Cloe blush'd: Euphelia frown'd:

I sung and gazed; I play'd and trembled:

And Venus to the Loves around

Remark'd how ill we all dissembled.

PRIOR.

nec mora, praeludo fidibus, cantare paratus :

spirat amor, spirat mixtus amore timor.

ast ita de Glycera quod bellum est cumque loquebar

ut colerem voltu plura loquente Chloen.

nec color huic unus nec frons innubila laesae:

ipse queror, stupeo, blandior, uror, amo.

at Venus irridens dum multa iocantur Amores,

istud ut infabre dissimulatur! ait.