"Give me Came n us, wanton baggages!" Till answered certain one a-baring breasts"Lo, 'twixt these rosy paps he haply rests!"But now to find thee were Herculean feat.Not if I feigned me that guard of Crete,Not if with Pegasèan wing I sped,Or Ladas I or Perseus plumiped,Or Rhesus borne in swifty car snow-white:Add the twain foot-bewing'd and fast of flight,And of the cursive' winds require the blow:All these (Camérius!) couldst on me bestow.Tho' were I wearied to each marrow boneAnd by many o' languors clean forgoneYet I to seek thee (friend!) would still assay.In such proud lodging (friend) wouldst self denay?Tell us where haply dwell'st thou, speak outright,Be bold and risk it, trusting truth to light,Say do these milk-white girls thy Steps detain?If aye in tight-sealed lips thy tongue remain,All Amor's fruitage thou shalt cast away: