Selections from Tibullus and Propertius

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Clarendon Press, 1887 - 380 pages
 

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Page 267 - EXEGI monumentum aere perennius Regalique situ pyramidum altius, Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens Possit diruere aut innumerabilis Annorum series et fuga temporum. Non omnis moriar, multaque pars mei Vitabit Libitinam. Usque ego postera Crescam laude recens, dum Capitolium Scandet cum tacita Virgine pontifex.
Page 289 - Lycidas ? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream : Ah me ! I fondly dream, Had ye been there...
Page 289 - Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next, Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe.
Page 285 - They go up by the mountains; They go down by the valleys Unto the place which thou hast founded for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may not pass over; That they turn not again to cover the earth.
Page 289 - Had ye been there," . . . for what could that have done? What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, Whom universal nature did lament...
Page 197 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Page 4 - Audeat invito ne quis discedere Amore, aut sciat egressum se prohibente deo. Quid tua nunc Isis mihi, Delia, quid mihi prosunt...
Page 284 - Memmi, tris species tam dissimilis, tria talia texta, 95 una dies dabit exitio, multosque per annos sustentata ruet moles et machina mundi.
Page 206 - Nor gaze upon the spot; There flowers or weeds at will may grow, So I behold them not: It is enough for me to prove That what I loved, and long must love, Like common earth can rot; To me there needs no stone to tell, 'Tis nothing that I loved so well.
Page vii - Rip your brothers' vices open, strip your own foul passions bare; Down with Reticence, down with Reverence— forward— naked— let them stare. Feed the budding rose of boyhood with the drainage of your sewer; Send the drain into the fountain, lest the stream should issue pure. Set the maiden fancies wallowing in the troughs of Zolaism,— Forward, forward, ay and backward, downward too into the abysm.

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