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P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various) 4 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various). You can also browse the collection for Delia (Kentucky, United States) or search for Delia (Kentucky, United States) in all documents.

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P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various), Hippomenes and Atalanta (search)
emost in the flowery plain. Now near the goal he summons all his might, And prays to Venus to direct him right, With his last apple to retard her flight. Though sure to lose if she the race declin'd, For such a bribe the vict'ry she resigned. Pleas'd that she'd lost, to the glad victor's arms She gives the prize, and yields her dear-bought charms. He by resistless gold the conquest gain'd, In vain he ran, till that the race obtain'd. Possess'd of that, he could not but subdue, For gold, alas! would conquer Delia too. Yet oh ! thou best belov'd, thou loveliest maid, Be not by too much avarice betray'd. Prize thyself high, no easy purchase prove, Nor let a fool with fortune be thy love. Like Atalanta's conqueror let him be, Brave, generous, young. from every failing free, And to complete him let him love like me. What pains against my wretched self I take E'en I myself my jealousies awake. Such men there are, bless'd with such gifts divine, Who if they knew thee, would be surely thine.
P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various), Jealousy (search)
Jealousy How wretched then, alas! should Daphnis grow? Gods! how the very thought distracts him now! E'en now, perhaps, some youth with happier charms Lies folded in the fathless Delia's arms. E'en now, the favours you design'd me, seem To be too prodigally heap'd on him. Close by your side, all languishing he stands, And on your panting bosom warms his hands. Straight in your lap he lies his envied head, And makes the shrine of love his sacred bed. Then glows his ravish'd soul with pointed flames, And thoughts of heav'nly joys fill all his dreams. Let not your passion be to me reveal'd, But if you love, keep him you love conceal'd.