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I could do without your face, and your neck, and your hands, and
your limbs, and your bosom, and read more
I could do without your face, and your neck, and your hands, and
your limbs, and your bosom, and other of your charms. Indeed,
not to fatigue myself with enumerating each of them, I could do
without you, Chloe, altogether.
"You are too free spoken," is your constant remark to me,
Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is read more
"You are too free spoken," is your constant remark to me,
Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is indeed a
free speaker.
You ask for lively epigrams, and propose lifeless subjects. What
can I do, Caecilianus? You expect Hyblaen or Hymethian read more
You ask for lively epigrams, and propose lifeless subjects. What
can I do, Caecilianus? You expect Hyblaen or Hymethian honey to
be produced, and yet offer the Attic bee nothing but Corsican
thyme?
Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
read more
Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
with my works? I have an excellent reason; it is lest you should
present me with yours.
Report says that you, Fidentinus, recite my compositions in
public as if they were your own. If you allow read more
Report says that you, Fidentinus, recite my compositions in
public as if they were your own. If you allow them to be called
mine, I will send you my verses gratis; if you wish them to be
called yours, pray buy them, that they may be mine no longer.
Acon his right, Leonilla her left eye
Doth want; yet each in form, the gods out-vie.
Sweet read more
Acon his right, Leonilla her left eye
Doth want; yet each in form, the gods out-vie.
Sweet boy, with thine, thy sister's sight improved:
So shall she Venus be, thou God of Love.
[Lat., Lumine Acon dextre,--capta est Leonilla sinistre,
Et potis est forma vincere uterque dees:
Blande puer, lumen quod habes concede sorori,
Sic tu caecus Amor, sic erit illa Venus.]
Since your legs, Phoebus, resemble the horns of the moon, you
might bathe your feet in a cornucopia.
Since your legs, Phoebus, resemble the horns of the moon, you
might bathe your feet in a cornucopia.
What is an epigram? a dwarfish whole,
Its body brevity, and wit its soul.
What is an epigram? a dwarfish whole,
Its body brevity, and wit its soul.
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
read more
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
'Tis doubt, my Postumus, he that doth smell
So sweetly always, smells not very well.