Minor Latin poets; with introductions and English translations

NEMESIANUSTurn your gaze on me at last, lollas, cruel boy.You will not be ever thus. Herbs lose theirbloom, thorns lose their roses, nor are liliesalways white ; the vine keeps not its leaf forlong nor the poplar its shady foliage. Beauty isa short-lived gift nor one that lends itself to age.Let each sing of what he loves : song toorelieves love's pangs.. The doe follows the buck, the comely heifer thebull, wolves have felt the stirring of love, lionesseshave felt it, and the tribes of the air, the birds,and the throng of scaled creatures, and mountainsand woods—and trees have their ownloves. You alone flee from love ;you betrayyour hapless lover.Let each sing of what he loves : song toorelieves love's pangs.Time nurtures all things, time snatches themaway ; enjoyment lies within narrow bounds.'Twas spring, and I saw beneath their mothersyonder calves, w^hich now have met in hornedbattle for the snow-white cow. For you, alreadyyour nostrils swell, already your neck growsstrong, already you count your years by twentyharvests.Let each sing of what he loves : song toorelieves love's pangs.hither, fair Meroe ; the heat calls us tothe shade. Now the herds have found cover inthe wood ; now there is no bird that sings fromtuneful throat; the scaly serpent marks notthe ground with its sinuous trail. Alone I sing,. Comeall the wood resounds with my strain, nor do Iyield in song to the summer cicalas.VOL. I. I I481