GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:2.8.1-2.8.20 urn:cts:latinLit:phi0893.phi001.perseus-eng2:2.8.1-2.8.20
Had chastisement for perjured truth,Barine, mark'd you with a curse—Did one wry nail, or one black tooth,But make you worse—I'd trust you; but, when plighted liesHave pledged you deepest, lovelier farYou sparkle forth, of all young eyesThe ruling star.'Tis gain to mock your mother's bones,And night's still signs, and all the sky,And gods, that on their glorious thronesChill Death defy.Ay, Venus smiles; the pure nymphs smile,And Cupid, tyrant-lord of hearts,Sharpening on bloody stone the whileHis fiery darts.New captives fill the nets you weave;New slaves are bred; and those before,Though oft they threaten, never leaveYour godless door.