To thee (Cornelius!); for wast ever fainTo deem my trifles somewhat boon contain;E'en when thou single 'mongst Italians foundDaredst all periods in three Scripts expoundLearned (by Jupiter!) elaborately.Then take thee whatso in this booklet be,Such as it is, whereto O Patron MaidTo live down Ages lend thou lasting aid! LESBIA'S SPARROWSparrow! my pet's delicious joy,Wherewith in bosom nurst to toyShe loves, and gives her finger-tipFor sharp-nib'd greeding neb to nip,Were she who my desire withstoodTo seek some pet of merry mood,As crumb o' comfort for her grief,Methinks her burning lowe's relief:Could I, as plays she, play with thee,That mind might win from misery free!To me t'were grateful (as they say), Gold codling was to fleet-foot May,Whose long-bound zone it loosed for aye.
ON THE DEATH OF LESBIA'S SPARROW
Weep every Venus, and all Cupids wail, And men whose gentler spirits still prevail. Dead is the Sparrow of my girl, the joy, Sparrow, my sweeting's most delicious toy, Whom loved she dearer than her very eyes;For he was honeyed-pet and anywiseKnew her, as even she her mother knew;Ne'er from her bosom's harbourage he flew