Epodes 3 (Creech): Parentis Olim

IF any, let's suppose so damn'd a Rage
Forget their Duty and their Age;
And eager to enjoy the whole Estate,
With impious hands shall hasten Fate,
And their old Fathers coming Death prevent,
Let Onions be their Punishment.
O Reapers Stomachs! Ah! what Poyson Reigns,
What secret fire runs o're my Veins?
Hath Viper's blood, or hath Canidia's breath
Blown o're my Meat, and mingled Death?
When Jason did Medea's fancy move,
And she fixt on him for a Love,
Before the rest, she gave him this to tame
The fiery Bulls, and quench their Flame;
By Presents dipt in this Creusa dy'd,
And Jason mourn'd his promis'd Bride:
Such furious heat as rages o're my Veins
N'ere scorcht the dry Apulian Plains,
Nor did the flaming Poysnous gift infest
With half such Heat Alcides Breast:
My merry Lord if e're you tast of this
May every Maid deny a Kiss;
But stop her Mouth, cry foh! refuse delight,
And ne're lie near Thee all the Night.