gods their promis'd vow The growing youth under Augustus name Pâ—ay that his off spring may for ever reigne Great Livia with her daughters largely give Their sacred gifts The Empresse because her Sonne doth live With them the Matrons and the Virgins pure Which keepe the sacred fires of Vesta sure â—he People and the Senate joy at heart â—nd Knighthood too of whom I was a part â—â—â—se publicke joyes are here to us unknowne â—â—â—ly a sâ—ght report doth hither come â—et may the people there enjoy the same â—nd 1 In the Page 〈…〉 read the conquer'd townes Captaines names â—nd see Low captive Kâ—ngs in solemne show 〈◊〉 the crowned 2 Or Aâ—â—â—stâ—â— Chaâ—ot chayned goe Vaâ—se lookes in some are like their Fortunâ— Lovv Dthers still dreadâ—ull though in-chained so 〈…〉 will enqâ—â—e their causâ— affaires and name And others 3 〈…〉 by conjecture Answers frame 〈…〉 that in purple shines vvith gallant grace Was Generall of the waâ—re He next in place â—â—â—s whose sad eyes are fixed on the ground Lookt brisker when in armes he marched round That fier man whose eyes still sparkle spite Gave counsell to the warre with all his might This man whose lockes his wofull face doe hide Dâ—d a â—lye ambush for our men provide By him our Captives were at Altars slaine Although the gods such offrings did disdaine That Lake those Rivers and those Castles there Were fil'd with blood of slaughterd Soldiers Here Drusus first obtain'd his Germane name 〈…〉 of his 〈◊〉 Worthy the noble Sire from whom he came Rhenes hornes were broken here and here her flood Erst green with reedes was dy'd with German bloud Loe there with haire dispread Germaniâ— borne At conquering Drusus feete doth sit and mourne To th' Roman axe yeelding her stubborne necke To chaines her hands which armes did lately decke Above all these with thousands at thy side Great Caesar thou in conquering chaire shalt ride And where thou goest thy Subjects hands applaud Whilst all the wayes with fragrant flowers are strawd Thy Temples shall be crownd with Phoebus bayes Thine army sounding 4 To 〈◊〉 Io to thy praise So that thy Chariot horses by the way Being chaft with shonts and hoyse shall stop and stay Then in Ioves Temple shalt thou leave thy Bayes In token of his ayd for future praise All this though banisht thence in mind I see And she enjoyes the place forbidden mee She doth through spacious lands with freedome stâ—â—â— And through the ayre finds out the quickest way Into the midst of Rome she brings mine eye Where all this joyfull Triumph I descry Ev'n Caesars Ivory Chariot 1 I shall see she will shew And for the Time 2 In my dâ—ere Country bâ— I shall my Country view Yet shall the happy people see the sight And vvith their joyfull Captaine take delight Poore I doe see 't by bare imâ—gination And reape the fruit by other mens relation And being sent to so remote a Clime Scarce one will come to tell the truth in time But 't will be old and staâ—e er 't come to me Yet whensoere it comes â—oyfull be 't shall welcome be And I that day will d'off my mourning weed The publique shall my private cause exceed ELEGIE 3. Two heav'nly Constellations here he wooes Argu. That 's wife hâ—r constant faith may never loose YOu great and lesser Beares who 4 They set not in the Sea thirsty still Conduct the Greeke and Tyrian Saâ—lors skill Who view all worldly things in your high motion And never set beneath the westerne Ocean Nor doth your circling Orb ere touch the ground Althouâ—t the Azure sky you compasse round I pray be hold those walls vvhich they report Remus once overleapt vvith fatall sport There turne your shining count'nance on my Wife And tell me if she lead a constant life Woes me vvhy question I a case so cleare And let my hope give place to doubtfull feare Feare nothing but beleive that all is vvell Have certaine faith she doth in faith excell And vvhat the fixed starres can nere descry Tell thou thy selfe vvith voyce that cannot lye That as thou car'st for her so she againe Thy name vvithin her heart doth still retaine Presenting still thy Count'nance to her mind And vvhile she lives though absent vvill be kind What doth thy sleepe forsake thee in the night VVhen once thy mournfull thoughts on Ovid light Yea doth thy vvidovved bed renevv afresh Thy cares and cause thee thinke on my distresse Do nights seeme tedious through thine invvard burning And do thy bones ev'n ake vvith often turning I make no doubt but thus thou dost and more Thy love ev'n forcing signes of griefe in store And griev'st no lesse for me then 1 Aâ—â—â—omache Heâ—â—ors wife To see hir husband drawne devoid of life Yet doubt I what to 2 Thebaâ— aske â— Pray nor can I tell What passion in thy mind I wish should dwell Art sad it is my griefe that I to thee 3 So good a 〈…〉 Of such deserts a cause of griefe should bee If not I wish that thou thy selfe mayst beare Beseeming one that lost an huâ—band deare Bewaile then gentle Wife thine ovvne great losses And live a mourners life for my great crosses Shed teares for me for teares are some reliefe A 〈◊〉 And teares do ease and cary out our griefe And would my death not life thou mightst bemone 5 And that I wish my death had left thee all alone Then I with thee aâ— home my life had ended Thy loving teares my deathbed had attended Thy fingers then had clos'd my dying eyes Which had beene fastned on my Country skyes And in my Grandsires Tombe my body dead Had found its buriall where it first was bred Then had I liv'd and dyed without all blame Nor had this punishment soyld my former fame Yet woe is me if thou beest much ashamed When thou an Exiles wife art bluntly named Woe 's me if thou dost blush that thou art mine And to be known for Ovids dost decline O where 's that time wherein thou tookest pride That thou wert knowne and termed Ovids Bride There was a time that thou didâ—â— pleasure take To be and to be flyled Ovids Mate And in my Parts and Manners tookst Delight Love adding value to them in thy sight Yea then so pretious was I in thine eyes All other men thou didst for me dispile Tâ—â—n blush not now that thou my wise art named For are thou mayst be griev'd but not aâ—hamed When 1 A beaâ—◠〈◊〉 the Capâ—â—â—â—e inveâ—â—d 〈…〉 to belongs 〈◊〉 and was 〈◊〉 from 〈◊〉 wall with 〈…〉 wilâ—â—â—aâ—ne cast hâ—â— selfe into hâ—s 〈◊〉 all she and was burned with him Capaneus was â—â—aine on Theâ—â—â— wall 〈◊〉 blusht not fot her â—â—ate aâ—all â—â—â—â—gh Thact 〈…〉 with bolt of Iove Yet could not this 〈◊〉 his â—indâ—â—â—s love Not did old Cadmus 2 His daugh ter Sâ—â—â—le deny Though by hir pâ—oud
my pensive minde beguile Seeking by Poetry to forget my griefe And well apaid if thus I finde reliefe ELEGIE 9. Argu. Here Ovid doth a tart invective write Gainst one that had provok't him with despite THough I be falne I am not under thee Then whom there 's nothing can more abject be What makes thee stomacke thus vild wretch or why Dost thou insult o're humane misery Can not my miseries make thee mild and tame To me when Tygers would condole the same Nor fear'st thou Fortunes power which tickle stands Vpon a ball nor yet her proud commands Yet will just Nemesis take revenge for me Since thou dost trample on calamity I saw a ship and passengers all lost And said loe never was the sea more just And some that grudg'd the poore their broken meat Themselves are faine to begge before they cate Thus sickle fortune roves with wandring pace Seâ—tence And never constant bides in any place Shee s merry now but mourning by and by In nothing constant but inconstancy I once did flourish but did quickely fade My blasing flame was but of stubble made Yet lest thy cruell joy should be entire I have some hope to quench this heav'nly ire Since both I meant no harme and though for shame I blush yet doth not envy fret my name Besides the massie world from East to west Holds not then Caesars a more tender brest For though he scorne to stoope to hostile strength Yet humble pray'rs will melt his heart at length And like the Gods whose number hee le encrease Hee le grant me many a boone besides release Count all the dayes i th' yeare both foule and fair And thou shalt finde that these most frequent are Lest then thou chance to over joy my paine Suppose I may be yet restor'd againe Suppose when Caesars wrath shall milder be My face i th' City thou with griefe maist see And I thee banisht for some fowler crime To this my twofold wish let heaven incline ELEGIE 10. He showes the reason why he doth not namâ— His worthy friend for seare he purchase blame Argu. WOuldst thou permit thy name within my verse How often there would I the same reherse Thee onely would I sing and all my layes In every Page should sound thy worthy praise My debt to thee should through the City spread If I poore Exile be i th' City read This age and after times should know thy love If these my slender rhymes shall lasting prove Yea learned Readers should thy prayses ring A Poet sav'd might well such honour bring That now I breath is first great Caesars fee And next to him the thankes are due to thee He gave me life thou dost his gift maintaine And causest me that 1 〈…〉 grace to entertaine When at my fall the most men were dismaid And others would be thought to be afraid And on my shipwracke gazed from the land Yet to me floting reacht no helping hand Thou onely didst from present death recall me And mak'st me live to know what did befall me Let all the gods with Caesar thee befriend What can I wish thee better to thy end Wouldst thou give leave all this my painefull skill Should publish to the world in accents shrill My Muse even now though chargd to hold her peace From publishing thy name can scarcely cease But as the dogge when the Deeres sent is found Contends to breake the Lease wherein he 's bound And as the Coursers hoofe and head doth beate The Lists and Barres till they be open set So my Thalia with thy Lawes inclos'd To name thee though forbidden is dispos'd Yet lest this friendly office doe thee harme Feare not my blabbing tongue thy law shall charme Yet not my thoughts I le still remember thee And which thou barrest not will gratefull be Yea whilst I live which may it be but short My soule shall from thy service never start ELEGIE 11. Argu. Ovid complaines he hath in Pontus spent Three yeares already since his banishment THrice hath the cold congealed Isters streame Thrice bound the Euxine since I hither came The time me thinkes since I did Rome enjoy Doth seeme as long as was the siege of Troy The months you 'd thinke did rather stand then goe The yeare doth passe and pace away so slow The Solstice shortens not the tedious night Nor Winter breviate the loathed light The naturall course of things is chang'd to me Which with my cares me thinkes enlarged be Or else the times their wonted courses run And only tedious seeme to me alone Whom Pontus holdeth Euxine falsly stilde 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Hospitable Being indeed the land of Scythia wilde Where bordring nations threaten warres amaine Accounting spoyle the onely honest gaine Where nothing's safe abroad our hil's entrencht With slender wals and its owne native strength Oâ— soes ere we perceive like Birds of pray Flocke to our spoiles and drive them quite away We often gather up within our wall Their darts which in our closed streetes doe fall Few here dare plow the ground who ever eares With one hand plowes i th' other weapons beares The Sheepheard armed pipes on 's Oaten reed Instead of wolves the sheepe doe warriours dread Our Castle scarce defends from foes without We feare within a mixed barbarous rout For here nixt savages and Graecians 1 Rest nest Our houses most what are by them possest Whom though you feare not you must needs detest With skinnes and shagged haire to see them drest Ev'n those which from the Greekish line descend With Persian mantles doe the cold defend And with the neighbouring Getes in speech coÌ„merce So that I doe by signes with them converse And no man understands mâ— language here But at my Latine tongue these rustickes jeere And raile upon me Scotfree to my face Objecting oft mine exile in disgrace And take in evill part when many times I strive to answer them by nods and signes Swords here determine what is wrongfull right And oft i th' Court they fall to bloody fight O cruell Lachesis to draw so farre My thread of life which had so ill a starie I waile my want of friends and Country deare And that I live with Scythian people here As two great evills the first I did deserve Yet might a place of lesse disquiet serve What say I soole who then deserved death When I did first incurre great Caesars wrath ELEGIE 12. Argu. He cheeres his Wife ' gainst one who had revilde heâ—â— And in disdaine an Exiles wife had stilde her THy Letter doth complaine that one in strife Misterm'd thee by the name of Exiles wife I griev'd not that my fortune ill doth heare Who am inur'd with patience wrongs to beare But that I 'm cause of shame deare wife to thee And feare thou blushest at my low degree Hold out to beare thou suffredst more that day When Caesars anger sent me first away Yet was he wide that me exiled thought A
from what she was Ioyfull of late but now at weeping passe If more in charge thou aske I more would say But that I feare to cause thy longer stay And should thou carry with thee all my mind Thy bearer would an heavy burden finde Make haste thy journi's long poore I am hurl'd To a farre Country in another world ELEGIE 2. He supplicates the Gods that they would deigne Argu. To yeeld him safe from ship wrackes imminent paine YE gods of Sea and heav'n what 's left but Prayer The shattered Limbes of my weake barke repaire O doe not you subscribe to Caesars anger When one God harmes another rids from danger Gainst Troy lame Vulcan stood for Troy Apollo Faire Venus aids them Pallas hates them hollow â—â—â—o Aeneas spleen'd and Turnus friended By Venus yet Aeneas was desended Oft raging Neptune would Vlysses kill As oft Minerva crost her Vncles will And may not now though I fall short of those Some God assist me though one God oppose But bootlesse Prayers poore wretch in vaine I sprinckle Even whilst I speake the waters me bedrinkle And Southwinds raging so my prayers confound The gods I aime at cannot heare the sound The selfe same wind thus bringing double 1 Or harmâ—â— scarâ—s Driving I know not whether sayles and Prayers Ay me poore wretch what watry Mountaines rise You 'd thinke their lofty tops would touch the skies Streight lovvly vallies stoope when Sea doth sunder You 'd thinke their bottomes reacht to hell or under Where ere I look there 's nought but sky and water This swelewth waves that wth stormes doth clatter The winds betweene them roaâ—e with hideous noise And waves demurre 2 Which wind which hath the mafter-voyce For now blowes Eurus from the purple East Now rises Zephyrus from 3 Eâ—â—â—ing the setting West Now rages Boreas from the Northerne Beare Now Notus warres with him from Southern spheart The Pilot doubtfull what to shun or chuse Ambiguous mischiefes make his Art to muse Dead men we are all hope of safeties gone Even whilst I speake the waves orewhelme my mone They 'le drowne my soule and while my mouth doth pray Thereby the deadly water finds a way My loving wife 4 Qâ—â—ly nought save mine exile wayles She neither grieves nor knowes my other aâ—les She little thinkes I me tost on vastest maine Hurried with winds still ready to be slaine T was well I did not suffer her to goe Then had I borne a double deadly blow Now though I perish yet since she is safe I shall outlive my death at least one halfe Woes me what flashing lights from heaven do spring What â—rackes of thunder from the skies doe ring And on our shippe the floting billowes falles Like Canon bullets on besieged walles Each following wave the former still exceede As if it were a renth of greatest Meeds 〈…〉 I feare not death but yet this kinde is hatefull Bate me but shipwracke death shall be most grateful Whether on 's faire death or o' th sword one dye Some comfort t is upon firme land to lye To make ones will and looke to be interred To speake to his friends And not in fishes bowels to lye buried Yet say such death I merit why should those Innocent soules ith'shippe my fate inclose Ye Gods above and you that rule the Seas Both stint your threates which joyntly me disease And since mild Caesa's wrath mylife hath granted Let me transport it to the place commanded For if for mine offence my life you grudge me It did not death deserve if Caesar judge me And had he ment to send me to my grave He needed not in this your helpe to crave My life 's at his command and when he will He that hath sparde my blood may freely spill But you whose powers my crime hath not offended O rest content and let my woes be ended And yet though all of you a wretch would save I 'm past all hope and safety cannot have Say you would spare and winds should serve my wil And Sea grow calme I am an Exile still I doe not plow the Seas and watry maine Hoping by traficke to make endlesse gaine I 'm not for learned 1 â—e was a â—â—â—dent there Athens at of yore Nor Asian Townes I never saw before Nor yet for 2 A mart Towâ—â— in â—â—ypt Alexandria am I bound To view her dainties in swift Nilus found My suite is small yet strange I crave a gale To the 3 A barbarous rude place Sâ—â—matian land to drive my sayle I 'm bound to touch on Pontus cruell shore Yet that my flight from home 4 My Country is slow deplore And make my way to Exile by my pray'rs To 5 A City of Pontuâ— to which Ovid was banisht Tomos soated under uncouth starres If then you love me gods these tempests lay And let your Powers for my ship make way Or if you hate me to that land me hye T is plague enough in such a coast to dye What make I here fierce windes dispatch my flight Why stayes thus long 6 Italy Ausoâ—â—â— in my sight Casar would have me gone oh doe not hold me But let the barbarous Ponâ—cke land behold me It is his will my merit for 't were small reason I should defend what he doth fault as treason Yet if the gods all 1 Hamâ—â—â— mortals actions view My fault was crimelesse and you know 't is true This if you know how 't was my meere 2 To see something at Court mishap Mine harmelesse mind contriv'd no wicked trap But I though meane that 3 〈…〉 sam Family favour'd still Obeying what I knew Augustus will Did blesle these times when such a Prince did live And oft for him and his did incense give If thus I meant O gods then doe you spare me If not let now some swelling wave orebeare me But doe I dreame or gin the clouds to vanish And doth the calmed Sea her anger banish Sure 't is no chance but you to whom I pray'd Knowing all 4 Heart have â—â—ne secrets send me present aid ELEGIE 3. He tels how he from Rome did fare well take Argu. And 's wife and Friends great lamentation make WHen I recall to mind that dolefull night When I from Rome did take my finall flight That night wherein I left what ever 's deare Then from mine eye there slides a mournsull teare For now the day by Caesar set drew night That I must 5 〈…〉 bid adiew to Italy I had no mind nor time things to prepare My heart was duld and overset with care I could not thinke of getting men or mates Or cloathes or Coine to fit my banisht state Like one with thunder strooke so was I crazed That lives and knowes it not he 's so amazed When griefe had once this cloud of mind removed And at the length my senses stronger proved Ready to goe I tooke my last
deplore So I expos'd on Geticke coasts to 3 Dye lye Doe here prepare my last sad obsequy Who ere in wanton verse doth take delight I warne him not to read what here I write Galluâ— and sweete Propertiuâ— sute his veine And other Poets more of honoured name And wiâ—h my friends would still remember me If any muse I thus of sorrow sing Let him ascribe it to my sufferings Que 1 I doe not here compose by wit or Art The matter of it selfe doth wit impart My verse the twentieth part cannot containe He 's happy that can 2 Number utter all his paine Number the trees i th' wood or Tibers sand What speeres of grasse in Mars his medow stand So many are the miseries I endure Of which my stadious muse is th' onely cure But when will Naso end his weeping Rhymes Que. 2 Even when his fortune yeelds him better times T is she which fountaines of complaint affords These are not mine but my misfortunes words My wife and Country let a friend restore I le be as merry as ere I was before Let Caesars anger bate and milder grow Shalt see my verse with pleasant humour flow Yet as before it shall not jest againe Though once it sported in a lighter straine I le sing to Caesars liking if he please Mine exile of these savage Getes to ease Till then what can my Papers doe but mourne This pipe doth well befit my funerall urne Que. 3 But thou wilt say t were better much to smother Thy sorrowes and in silence passe them over Thou dost forbid a torturd wretch to grone Or one that 's deepely wounded once to mone Whom cruell Phakaris vext with scorching paine Examp. 1 He suffred yet with Bullish voyce to plaine Aebilles did not Priams weeping blame Yet thou more cruell wouldst my teares restraine When Niobes children great Diana slew She let her yet with teares her cheekes bedew â—e boâ—ling heart with doubled griefe to â—weâ—â— â—en pardon reader or my bookes refraine â—â—at which is my comfort prove â—ay paine â—â—ough I am well assurd my harmelesse song â—cept their Authour will do no man wrong â—â—te bad I grant who bids thee read them then 〈◊〉 who forbids thee lay them downe agen â—t read them on as fram'd i th' Geticke strand â—â—ey cannot be more barbarous then their Land â—â—â—e with her Poets must not me compare â—hough mong the Getes my wit was somewhat rare â—doe not catch at great applause and fame 〈◊〉 wits most quickning spurre a sasting name 〈◊〉 onely seeke to free my minde from care â—â—â—ch still breake in where they 2 Forbidden unwelcome are Que. 4 For this I vvrote But why dost send them over â—hus as I may your prefence to recover ELEGIE 2. He wils his Wife to Caesar to addresse Her sute for ease of this his great distresse WHen Letters come from Pontus art thou pale And doth thy trembling hand in th'opening faile â—eare not for I am well yea now at length My body erst 3 Invalid but weakely gathers strength â—ither the use of labour makes it hard â—r else all time for sicknesse is debarr'd Yet is my minde as crazy as before And my afflictions still affect me 4 More sore The wounds which Time I hop't would close againe â—s if new made afresh renue my paine â—ome smaller crosses length of time may ease Seate◠〈◊〉 greater mischiefes doe with time encrease The wound which from the poyson'd Arrow bred Poore Polystetes ten whole twelvemonths sed Exam. 1 Yea 〈◊〉 till deeth had nere beene sound â—â—e that hurt him had not â—uâ—'d his wound And O that hee which wrought my sore disease Since I have done no crime would grant me ease And from my sea of sorrow would abate Sated with part of this my dolorous fate Abote he much yet there will much remaine And even th' one part will seeme sufficient paine As garden Roses or the shels o th' shore Or graines which sleepy Poppy sheds in store As beasts i th' woods Sim. or fith in waters gliding Or winged birds that through the ayre are shding So numerous are my griefes which would I tell I might summe up the drops o th' Sea as well My perils to passe ore by Sea and Land How oft my life was sought by bloody hands In a remote and barbarous land I lye Which is environ'd by the enemy From whence hadst thou due care I had been freed No question having done no bloody deed That god on whom the Romane state doth lye Shâ— wâ—â— mercy oft to th' conquerd enemy Goe then preserre thy sute thou maist be bold The world a 1 〈◊〉 milder spirit doth not bold Woes me what shall I doe if thou witâ—draw Thy neeke from Wedlocke yoke and friendships law What shall I hope who shall my ship sustaine Without an Anchor tostâ—th ' watty maine He even to Casar as mine Altar runne The Altar doth no humble sutor shun ELEGIE 3. To Caesar here our Poet makes his sate Argu. His place of wofull exile to commute TO th' absent powers an absent suppliant speakes If Iâ—â— man my minde to Iove may breake Thou Empire-swayer in whose preservation The gods expresse their care o th' Roman nation The â—lorâ— and th' Example of thy land Great as the world ore which thou dost command So maist thou live earths joy and heavens desire And slowly to the promis'd starres aspire I pray thee Spare me and abate my paine And of thy thunder take some part againe Thy wrath indeed was milde my life was sparde Ius civilitie Nor of a Citizens Right was I debar'd Nor were my goods bestow'd on others than Nor did thine edict stile me 1 Relegatus â—od exâ—â— banisht-man All this I feard as I had well deserved But by thy mercy I was better served Awarded onely to the Ponticke land To plow with wandring ship the Scythian 2 Sea sand I sent away to th' Euxine shore doe flye Which neerethe froxen Arcticke Pole doth lye Yet am I not so vext with freezing sky Or th' Ice which ever on the ridges lye Or that these bruites no Latin understand But speake in Geticke-Greâ—ke through all the Land As that a bordring Warre doth us inclose In slender walls scarce fencing of our foes W 'ave sometimes peace yet never are secure But either warres we feare or warres endure So I remove from hence Charybdis make My speedy passage to the Stygian Lake Or else in sulphrous Aetna let me fry Or in the 3 Ionian Sea gulfe of Leucas drovvned lye My sute is easy that no griefe refuse But pray I may a safer mischiefe chuse ELEGIE 4. He sues to Bacchus here Argu. that he would please To move Augustus for his speedy ease BAccbus this is the day when Poets use To honour thee I tak 't with cheerefull muse With garlands sweete their Temples they surround And midst thy bowles of wine thy prayses sound Mong these while Fortune
commanded so Once I did thinke this tale a fable vaine And that 2 A Poet Son of Battâ—â— Callâ—machus did meerely faigne Now I beleeve it seeing smoke did bend So wisely from the North and Rome-ward wend. This is the day which had it never beene I wretched man no festivall had seene This day those vertues brought which match the fame Of 3 The daughters of â—â—â—on and Icarius Hectors wife or chaste Penelopes name With her faith goodnesse chastity were bred Yet pour'd this day no joy upon her head But labours cares an ill-besuting fate And just complaints of an halfe-widowed state Indeed in hardest state is goodnesse tride Shee 's prais'd which doth in crosses constant bide Had not Vlysses seene such dismall dayes Then had Penelope lost her glorious praise Had valiant Capaneus won the Theban Towne Evadne then had never had renowne Of Pelias daughters why admire we 4 Alcestis wiâ—e of Admetus King of Thessaly he being sicke sent to the Oracle aÌ„d received answer that he must dye presently unlesse soâ—â—e friend would dye for him this all refused and â—he voluntarily dyed for him one Her husbands woes ennobled her alone Laodameia too obscure had layne Had not her Lord at Troy beene foremost slaine So had thy kindnesse wife beene stiâ—â— unknowne If on my sayles the windes had furely blowne Yet ye O gods and Caesar who shalt be At Nestors yeares an heav'nly Deity O spare I pray though not my guilty head Yet her who hath no sorrow merited ELEGIE 7. He wooes his friend that he would not withdraw His kindnesse Argu. but abide in friendships Law DOst thou the Quondam hope of mine affaires The Refuge and the Port of all my cares Dost thou likewise forsake thy ancient friend Dost thou so soone thy Pious office end I am a burden true but why at first Didst take it up to lay it downe at th' worst What 1 〈…〉 Palinurus leave thy ship i th' storme Flee not but show thy skill in times forlorne Ith ' fight 2 〈…〉 Automedon neere left his charge Nor yet Achilles chariot run at large And 3 〈…〉 Podalirius his Greeke Patients still Once undertaken followed with his skill Better neere harbour then thrust out thy guest Then let me on mine Altar firmely rest At first thou onely didst maintaine thy friend But now with me thy Iudgement must defend At lest if I have done no trespasse since To make tâ—ee change thy faith by mine offence First let my breath out of my brâ—st repayre Which I but hardly draw in Scythian aire Ere my default should thy displeasure move Or I should seeme unworthy of thy love I am not so through cruell fates declin'd That â—riefe should breed a frenzy in my minde But say it had oft in his franticke fie Flerce words at Pylades did Orestes spit Nor I' st unlike but that he strooke his friend Who yet remaind officious to the end Merâ—â—â— the wretched with the rich agree Both must be pleas'd and both must humour'd be We give blind men the way as well as those Whose mases awe us and their purple clothes Then spare my fortune though thou spare not me Who am no subject fit to anger thee Chuse out but part of that which I sustaine T is more then all of which thou canst complaine Number the reedes which in the marshes stand Or Bees which feede on Hybâ—as flowry land Or count the Pismires which in toyling swarmes Doe ligge the graine into their earthly barnes Such troupes of sorrowes me environ round That far above my plaints my woes abound Whom they content not let him heape on more Waterith ' Seas or Sands upon the shore 1 The untimelyâ— Thy groundlesse fury then my friend appease Desert me not in midst of stormy Seas ELEGIE 8. Our Poet here his wofull plight repeates Argu. And showes the attire and manners of the Getes THis Letter Reader comes from Scythian clime Where Isters streames with th' Ocean waves coÌ„bine If thou a life of health dost now retaine I shall an happy man in part remaine I know my deare thou askest how I fare Which thou maist gather though I silent were I am in briefe and summe a wretched wight As he must be whom Caesar shall despight Besides I know thou wouldst that I should tell The manner of these Tâ—mites where I dwell The Greekes with Getes are mixed here in store Yet of fierce Getes this coast containeth more Whole troupes of Getes and rude Sarmatians goe Tracing our rodes with horses to and fro And there 's not one but bow and bowcase weares And arrowes blew with gall of Vipers beares Rough speech and lookes that threaten death they have Their heads and beards these shack-haires never shave Their hands are ready still to stab and wound With knives which ever by their sides are bound With these he lives that wrote Loves tender glee These these thy Poet still doth heare and see And yet with these O may he never dye But let his ghost this loathed Region flye Whereas thou writest of applauses rung In the full Theaters to my verses sung Thon know'st I never pend to stages Lawes Not was my Muse ambitious of applause Yet am I pleased that I still retaine In fresh remembrance a poore exiles name My Muse and verses though I oft forsweare When I consider what for them I beare Yet having curst them cannot give them o're But love the weapons dyed in my gore The Greekish ship torne i th' Euboian maine Yet neere Caphareus 1 〈◊〉 rocke dares saile againe Yet wish I not for praise or late renowne Who had beene safer had I nere beene knowne But with my studies doe beguile my griefe And yeeld my carefull minde some short reliefe How else should I alone my time employ Or other cure of sorrow here enjoy For loe the place is most unpleasant ground In all the world a vilder is not found As for the men they scarce deserve the name More ferity then wolves they doe retaine They feare no lawes but right gives place to might The stronger sword hath still the better right They fence the cold with skins and mantles wide And with long locks their dreadful count'nance hide In some of them a smacke of Greeke is sound Though much corrupted by the Geticke sound Yet there 's not one of all this savage throng That can expresse a word i th' Latine tongue Pardon ye Muses I even forc't erewhile A Roman Poet speake their Geticke stile I blush to say 't â—et through disuse doe finde That Latine words come 1 Hardly slowly to my minde And doubtlesse barbarous words these Poems shame For which you must the place not Poet blame Yet lest I quite should lose th' Ausonian tongue And in my Country speech prove wholly dumbe I with my selfe discourse in words disused Vnder the Muses standard long refused Thus doe I passe my houres and so a while Of fretting thoughts