Chased by the street-dogs through the taunting town!

My curse comes fast. Unerring signs are seen
In stars above us. There are gods who still
Protect unhappy lovers: and our Queen
Venus rains fire on all who slight her will.

O cruel girl! unlearn the wicked art
Of that rapacious hag! For everywhere
Wealth murders love. But thy poor lover's heart
Is ever thine, and thou his dearest care.

A poor man clings close to thy lovely side,
And keeps the crowd off, and thy pathway free;
He hides thee with kind friends, and as his bride
From thy dull, golden thraldom ransoms thee.

Vain is my song. Her door will not unclose
For words, but for a hand that knocks with gold.
O fear me, my proud rival, fear thy foes!
Oft have the wheels of fortune backward rolled!




ELEGY THE SEVENTH

A DESPERATE EXPEDIENT