Book II, Elegy 7

In very truth Cynthia rejoiced when that law was swept away, at the making of which we both wept for many an hour, for fear it should divide us: though against their will not Jove himself could part a pair of lovers. "Nay," say you, "but Caesar is mighty." True, but his might is the might of armies: to have vanquished nations counts for nothing in the world of love. For sooner would I suffer my head to be severed from my body than I could quench the fire of our passion at the whim of a bride, or, a wedded husband, pass thy house forever barred to me, and glance back with streaming eyes at the threshold I had betrayed. Ah! then of what slumbers would the pipe of the wedding company sing to thee, that pipe more sadly sounding than the trump of funeral! How should I furnish children to swell our country's triumphs? From my blood shall no soldier ever spring. But if I were to follow my mistress' camp (the one true camp for me!), not mighty enough for me were Castor's war-horse. 'Twas in Love's warfare that my fame won such renown, fame that has travelled to the wintry Borysthenidae. Thou only pleasest me; let me in like manner, Cynthia, be thy only pleasure: love such as this will be worth more to me than the name of father.