Why, Xanthias, blush to own, not thou the first,
A bondmaid's power? Peleus' haughty son
By the white-bosomed slave Briseis erst
To tender love was won.

With love Tecmessa, captive fair, her lord,
Great Telamonian Ajax did inspire.
A damsel, prize of his triumphant sword,
Atrides' heart could fire

Even in the hour when Priam's army lay
By Phthiot victor quelled, and Hector's fall
Yielded to weary Greeks an easy prey
Ilion's embattled wall.

Thee it may be to kin of high estate
Thy nuptials with blonde Phyllis will ally.
For royal birthright lost by cruel fate
She heaves, be sure, that sigh.

Not from among the rabble herd, I swear,
Hast thou thy consort chosen. One so true,
From sordid aim so free, her being ne'er
From low-bred mother drew.

No rival suitor I her arms, her face,
And shapely ankles praise. Dismiss thy fears
Of one whose age now nears with rapid pace
The term of two-score years.