Conceal my affliction,
But of the twain, the greater is my sorrow,--
Hears how we love the fight,And bids them cross and ribbon bring,
A breast whence flows a loving song,A throat that finds no draught amiss,
Seeking their goal.
To the hand but wont to stealO'er the lyre in gentle mood.From the sparkling waterfalls,From the brook that purling calls,Shall Silenus' loathsome beastBe allow'd at will to feast?Aganippe's * wave he sipsWith profane and spreading lips,--With ungainly feet stamps madly,Till the waters flow on sadly.
Through field and valley dear;But doth my fleeting image ne'er
SLUMBER and Sleep, two brethren ordain'd by the gods to their service,
Hath, then, Amor the rogue cheated, Aurora, e'en thee?Thou dost appear to me now as his friend, and again dost awake me
All the joy my life had known,So that, in my poverty,
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