Amores I.5

'Twas sultry, and the day had passed its mid hour; I laid my members to rest them on the middle of my couch. One shutter of my window was open, the other shutter was closed; the light was such as oft in a woodland, or as the faint glow of the twilight when Phoebus just is taking Leave, or when night has gone and still the day is not sprung. It was such a light as shrinking maids should have whose timid modesty hopes to hide away — when lo! Corinna comes, draped in tunic girded round, with divided hair falling over fair, white neck — such as 'tis said was famed Semiramis when passing to her bridal chamber, and Lais loved of many men.

I tore away the tunic — and yet 'twas fine, and scarcely marred her charms; but still she struggled to have the tunic shelter her. Even while thus she struggled, as one who would not overcome, was she overcome — and 'twas not hard — by her own betrayal. As she stood before my eyes with drapery laid all aside, nowhere on all her body was sign of fault. What shoulders, what arms did I see — and touch! How suited for caress the form of her breasts! How smooth her body beneath the faultless bosom! What a long and beautiful side! How youthfully fair the thigh!

Why recount each charm? Naught did I see not worthy of praise, and I clasped her undraped form to mine.

The rest, who does not know? Outwearied, we both lay quiet in repose.

May my lot bring many a midday like to this!