previous
next

TO CHLOE.

(Carm. I., 23.) Like a fawn with silly terrors
Of the wood and of the wind,
Seeking o'er the lonely mountains
For its dam, the startled hind;—

When the breeze-tossed vine-leaves shudder,
When the bramble-bushes shake,
Rustled by the swift, green lizards,
Heart and knees are both a-quake;

Thus thou shunn'st me.—Tigers, Chloe,
Afric lions, aim at life;
I would take you from your mother—
Why?—'Tis time you were a wife?

previous
next