Book II, Elegy 14

Not so did Atrides rejoice in his triumph over Troy, when the vast wealth of Laomedon fell in ruin; not so glad was Ulysses, when, his wanderings o'er, he reached the shore of his beloved Dulichia; not so happy Electra, when she saw Orestes safe and sound, o'er whose feigned ashes she had wept, clasping them to her heart; not with such joy did the daughter of Minos behold Theseus come forth unscathed, when the guiding thread led him through the Daedalian maze. All their gladness was naught, compared with the joys that were mine last night. Come such another night, and I shall be immortal! (Yet when I went my way a suppliant with drooping head she spoke of me as more worthless than a pool run dry.) No more does she meet me with cruel disdain, no more can she sit unmoved at the voice of my complaint.

And would that her terms of peace had not been made known to me so late! To dust and ashes now this healing is given. The way shone clear before my feet; but men love-maddened one and all are blind.

This I have found to be the sovereign cure: lovers, disdain your loves! So, if she have refused you yesterday, she will come to your arms to-day. Others in vain beat at my mistress' door and called her by name; but unmoved she laid her head upon my breast. Dearer to me this victory than the conquest of Parthia: be these my spoils, my captive kings, my triumphal car. Rich offerings, Cytherea, will I fix on the pillars of thy shrine, and such shall be the verse beneath my name: THESE SPOILS, O GODDESS, I PROPERTIUS HANG BEFORE THY SHRINE; FOR ONE WHOLE NIGHT LONG MY MISTRESS TOOK ME TO HER HEART. Now, Cynthia, shall my bark come safe home to thee — or is it doomed to sink with all its wares in shoal-water? Nay, if thou change toward me through any fault of mine, may I lie dead before thy threshold!