Amores II.11

'Twas the pine felled on Pelion's top that first taught men the evil paths of the sea, while the waves looked on in wonder — the craft that rashly sailed between the clashing rocks and bore away the wool sightly with yellow flock. O that the Argo had been o'erwhelmed and drunk the waters of doom, so that no one should trouble with oar the far-stretching seas!

Lo! Corinna flies from the couch that knows her, and the Penates she has shared', and makes ready to venture forth on treacherous paths. Why, ah. wretched me! — must I fear for you the Westwind and the East, and frozen Boreas, and the balmy South? Not yonder will you gaze on towns, not upon groves; there is only the deep-blue form of the unjust sea. Nor do the waters in the mid of the deep have delicate shells and painted pebbles; for those we linger on the thirsty strand. Print ye the strand with marble-white feet, fair maids; so talis safe — the rest of the way is blind. And let others tell you tales of battling winds; of waters that Scylla makes dread, or Charybdis; of rocks where the violent Ceraunians tower from the sea; of the fold in the shore where the Syrtes, great and lesser, lie in wait. These things let others tell you; whatever each shall say, believe it! Believing brings no harm from any storm.

Too late you look back upon the laud, when the cable is loosed and the curving keel is rushing out to the measureless brine; when the anxious sailor shudders at unfavouring winds, and sees death near, as near as he sees the water. But should Triton smite and roughen the waves, how your whole face would show no trace of colour! Then would you call for aid on the high-born stars, the sons of fruitful Leda, and say : " Happy she her own land retains! "

The safer course was fondly to keep your couch, to read your books, to sound with your fingers the Thracian lyre. Yet, if the flying gale must bear away my empty words, may Galatea none the less be kindly to your craft! 'Twill be your crime if such a girl is lost, O daughters divine of Nereus — yours and your sire's. As you go, remember me, and return with favouring wind; may the breeze that then fills your sails be a stronger one! Then let mighty Nereus make slope the sea toward these our shores; hitherward let blow the winds, hitherward the tide roll the waters! You yourself, pray Zephyr strike full your sheets, you yourself stir with your baud the swelling sails! I shall be first to get sight of the well-known craft from the shore, and shall say: "That sail bears hither my gods!" And I will take you in my arms, and wildly snatch kiss on kiss. The victim vowed against your return shall fall; the yielding sands shall be levelled in form of a couch, and some mound be reared, of whatever sort, to serve for table.

There, when the wine is set, you will tell me many a tale — how your ship was all but engulfed in the midst of the waters; and how. while hasting home to me, you feared neither hours of unfriendly night nor headlong winds of the south. All I shall take for truth, though you invent it all — why should I not flatter my own heart's desires? May Lucifer, most brilliant in the lofty sky, with loose-reined steed full quickly bring that hour!