Amores II.16

Sulmo holds me now. third part of the Paelignian fields — a land that is small, but wholesome with channelled streams. Though the sun draw nigh and crack the earth with heat, and the wanton star of the Icarian dog blaze forth, the acres of the Paeligni are wandered through by the liquid wave, and green iii the tender soil rises the fruitful plant. "Rs a land rich in corn, and richer still in the grape; here and there its fields bring forth, too, the berry-bearing tree of Pallas; and over the mead whose herbage ever springs again along the gliding streams, the grassy turf hides thickly the moistened ground.

But my heart's flame is not here. I was wrong in one word! she who (ires my heart is afar: the fire is here. No, could I be set between Pollux and Castor, with vou not by, I would not wish a share in heaven. May they lit restless, weighed down by ungracious clay, who have cut long roads upon the earth! — else they should have ordered maids to go as comrades to young men, if long roads must needs be cut upon the earth! Then if, shivering, I were setting foot on the windy Alps, so only my lady-love were with me, my journey were made with ease. Were my lady-love with me, I should dare to steer my ship through the Libyan Syrtes, and spread my sails to be driven by the unpropitious South. I should feel no fear of the monsters that bay from the maiden's groin, nor shrink at thy winding gulfs, O curving Malea; nor the waters which Charybdis, sated with sunken ships, pours forth, and, poured forth, catches back in her jaws again,

But if the windy power of Neptune holdeth sway, and the wave shall sweep away the gods that should aid us, O place your snowy arms about my neck; I shall bear the sweet burden along with easy stroke. Full oft the young lover had swum across the waters to see his Hero; the last time, too, he would have swum across, but the way was blind.

But here without you, though round about me are fields of vines with their busy life, though the countryside is saturate with running streams, and the rustic summons to the rivulets the flowing wave, and the cool breeze caresses the branches of the trees, I seem to dwell not in the healthful Paelignian land, nor in my natal place, my father's acres — but in Scythia, and among the fierce C'ilicians, and the woaded Britons, and the rocks ruddy with Promethean gore.'"

The elm loves the vine, the vine abandons not the elm; why am I oft separated from the mistress of my heart? Yet you had sworn that you would ever be comrade of mine — by me and by your eyes, those stars of mine! The words of women, lighter than falling leaves, go all for naught, swept away by the whim of wind and wave.

Yet, if still in your heart is some feeling of faith toward me who am left alone, begin to make good your promises by deeds, and as soon as you may, with your own hand shake the rein above the flying manes of the ponies that whirl your light ear along. And O, wherever she passes, sink down, ye hills, and be easy in the winding vales, ye ways!