TO LYCE. WERE you to live beyond the Tweed, To some proud Lord of ancient breed Still, LYCE, I'd besiege your gate, Not that I want so far to roam, The trees before your windows rock, ODE X. LIB. 3. EXTREMUM Tanaïm si biberes, Lyce, Audis quo strepitu janua, quo nemus Then, prithee, be no more deny'd! And let us meet at dinner; Virtue at best is but a feint, To you I freely lose at cards, I write, to please you, dull charades, And wear, with tender thoughts imprest, Sweet emblem of my passion. Ingratam Veneri pone superbiam, Non te Penelopen difficilem procis * Le Soupir Etouffé was a fashionable colour when this imitation was done. If these avail not, can you bear, Ne'er sleeps at home when free from gout, And beat him black and blue ! Had love no joys, revenge were sweet; O, quamvis neque te munera nec preces, Curvat; supplicibus tuis Parcas, nec rigidâ mollior æsculo, TO FLAVIA, ON THE LOSS OF HER LAP-DOG, CALLED TEAZER. THOUGH black'ning clouds in gath'ring rains And vex th' Atlantic Ocean : In May, on Scandinavia's coast, ODE IX.-LIB. 2. NON semper imbres nubibus hispidos Manant in agros; aut mare Caspium Vexant inæquales procellæ Usque; nec Armeniis in oris, Amice Valgi, stat glacies iners Menses per omnes; aut Aquilonibus And the tall oaks, on Spring's return, Yet FLAVIA, in eternal strains, Or hastens to his setting. Not so her aunt; though she-poor soul! At eighty lost her dear PATROLE,* By a mad bull-dog bitten: |