love poetry

As the Moon with starry Chitra dwells in azure skies above,
In his lonesome leafy cottage Rama dwelt in Sita's love,

And with Lakshman strong and valiant, quick to labour and obey,
Tales of bygone times recounting Rama passed the livelong day.

And it so befell, a maiden, dweller of the darksome wood,
Led by wand'ring thought or fancy once before the cottage stood,

Surpa-nakha, Raksha maiden, sister of the Raksha lord,
Came and looked with eager longing till her soul was passion-stirred!

Me kindly Rome loves, quotes my books, and buys them;
But till that critic feigning to despise them
Blushed and turned pale, then yawned and looked confounded,
I never felt my fame was surely grounded.

As Glycera was perfect, so
Lycoris is to me,
How can the past be present, tho'
Their futures may agree?

" Love," " Loved," ah, Time's omnipotence!
His grammar rules are crude;
By merely altering a tense
He brings a change of mood.

That diamond, emerald, and sard
Adorn my Stella's hand,
That jaspers bright should deck the bard
I well can understand.

For as he set a lovely lay
With jewels bright and rare,
A few escaped, and these are they
That now his hand doth wear.

None takes such low security
Though he is poor. My praise is just.
For Cordus, tho' he cannot see,
Accepts his lady-love on trust.

Dear Quintus, why resent my joke?
The one-eyed hag of whom I spoke
Was Thais, and your lady's name
Hermione — 'tis not the same
Or similar. Had I said Thais,
Whereas your lady-love was Lais,
You might complain of that; beside
You swear your love is not one-eyed!
I called her lover " Quintus" — true:
Let's change to " Sextus" — will that do?

Great are thy gifts and greater yet shall be —
For thou alone, dear Sire, canst conquer thee.
But 'tis not they that our affection move;
It is because of thee thy gifts we love.

Weep for your crime, weep o'er the Lucrine lake,
Ye Naiads, till your cries e'en Thetis wake.
For Eutychos 'neath Baiae's waves you drew
And for my Castricus his comrade slew,
Who was his comfort and his chiefest joy,
Loved by our bard as Virgil loved his boy.

Did the nymph see thee naked in the mere
And give Alcides back his Hylas dear?
Or does the goddess in thy love delight
And for thy arms neglect Hermaphrodite?
Whate'er the cause of rape so sudden be,
Let earth, I pray, and wave be kind to thee.

You want me, dear lady, to be always ready.
But love, you must know, is a thing most unsteady.
Your words and your gestures invite me to go
To extremities with you. Your face — that says. " No."

What will Love not compel! Though Pudens murmured " No,"
Yet he did not prevent young Encolpos, and so
He cut off his hair, while his master wept sore
And complained, like Apollo and Phaethon of yore;
Than Hylas more fair or Achilles, when he
Rejoiced from his mother's love-locks to be free;
In return for the gift may he beardless remain,
And though his hair's short seem a boy once again.