The softest fire makes the sweetest malt:
Who grips too hard the dry and slippery sand
Holds none at all, or little in his hand.
Chorus Virginum. Goddess of pleasure, youth and peace,
Give them the blessing of increase:
And thou, Lucina, that dost hear
The vows of those that children bear:
Whenas her April hour draws near,
Be thou then propitious there.
Chorus Juvenum. Far hence be all speech that may anger move:
Sweet words must nourish soft and gentle love.
Chorus Omnium. Live in the love of doves, and having told
The raven's years, go hence more ripe than old.
Nice, dainty.
Painful, painstaking; for the passage cp. Catull. Nupt. Pel. et Thet. 311-314.
- 634 ##
634. TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES.
One night i' th' year, my dearest beauties, come
And bring those due drink-offerings to my tomb.
When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise,
And there to lick th' effused sacrifice:
Though paleness be the livery that I wear,
Look ye not wan or colourless for fear.
Trust me, I will not hurt ye, or once show
The least grim look, or cast a frown on you:
Nor shall the tapers when I'm there burn blue.
