Odes 2.4 (Creech): Ne Sit Ancillae

DEar Xanthias tis a faulty shame,
Blush not to own a Noble flame
Rais'd by thy Captives Charms;
The fair Brisëis once could move
Achilles stubborn Soul to Love,
And force the haughty Heroe to her Arms:

Tecmessa's Charms subdu'd her Lord,
And Conquering Ajax soon ador'd;
By fair Cassandra's Eyes
When Hector fell, and left his Troy
To weary Greeks an easy Prey,
E'en midst his Triumph great Atrides dies:

See what a Beauteous Majesty,
And how commanding is her Eye,
Her look proclaims her State;
She Mourns, she Mourns, a Royal Race,
And Parents equal to her Face,
And grieves to see so strange a whirl of Fate:

Ne're think her, Friend, of Common Blood;
Nor sprung from the dishonest Crow'd
A mind so bravely bold,
So chast as to resist the Arts
That take the mean unguarded Hearts,
The force of pressing Youth, and Charms of Gold:

Her Face, her Neck, her Breast and Arms
I praise not taken with her Charms;
Suspitious thoughts remove;
Let almost forty feeble Years
Secure thy mind from jealous fears,
And tell that Horace is too old for Love: