They bind with bars the tameless sea; behind a rampart proud
Their little fishes swim in calm, when wintry storms are loud.
Ah! Love! Will not a Samian bowl hold all our mirth and wine?
And pottery of poor Cuman clay, with love, seem fair and fine?
Nay! Woe is me! Naught now but gold can please our ladies gay;
And so, since Venus asks for wealth, the spoils of war must pay.
My Nemesis shall roll in wealth; and promenade the town,
All glittering, with my golden gifts upon her gorgeous gown.
Her filmy web of Coan weave with golden broidery gleams;
Her swarthy slaves the Indian sun touched with its burning beams.
In rival hues to make her fair all conquered regions vie,
Afric its azure must bestow, and Tyre its purple dye.
O look--I tell what all men know--on that most favored lover!
Once in the market-place he sat, with both his soles chalked over.
BOOK III
ELEGY THE FIRST
THE NEW-YEAR'S GIFT
Now the month of Mars beginning brings the merry season near,
By our fathers named and numbered as the threshold of the year.
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