Epodes 11 (Creech): Petti, Nihil Me

AH I have lost my old delight,
Now Muse can now my fancy move,
My Rhymes displease, I hate to write,
Now I am very deep in Love:

Love that doth still my Heart surprize,
And single me from constant game,
From Boys and Maidens charming Eyes
He thro my Marrow scatters Flame.

Three Stormy Winters now have shook
The leavy Honor from the Tree,
Since I disdain'd Inachia's Yoke,
And dar'd to set my passion free.

Oh what a Town-talk then was I,
How Fopps did wanton, with my Fame,
And (when I think on't how I die)
All ridicul'd my foolish Flame!

Oh how it grates to mind the Feasts
Where thoughtful silence seem'd to prove,
And a deep sigh would tell the Guests
That Poet Horace was in Love!

When Wine unlockt my easy Soul
How often I with sighs have told
The Poor Man's Wit could not controul
The giving Rival's mighty Gold!

Yet, Faith, if vext my rage will rise,
And when these hated Chains are broak,
I'le leave these dull complaints, be wise,
And scorn to take another Yoke.

Yet after this was stoutly said,
And constant I resolv'd to hate;
My heedless Feet my mind betray'd,
And brought Me to the usual Gate:

That cruel Gate, and us'd to scorn,
Where I have layn, and layn deny'd;
Where I whole tedious Nights have born
And craz'd my Health, and bruis'd my Side.

Lycestris now of greater Charms
Than all that grace proud Womankind,
Doth gently force me to his Arms;
With pleasing Bands he draws my Mind:

And now let my free Friends advise,
Or let them blame; 'tis all in vain,
Too feeble they to break the tyes
When Love and Beauty make the Chain.

Of freedom I must still despair,
Unless some Maid or lovely Boy
With killing looks, and Charming hair,
Shall draw me to another joy.