ELEGIA 2
Ad amicam cursum equorum spectantemI sit not here the noble horse to see,
Yet whom thou favourst, pray may conquerour be.
To sit, and talke with thee I hether came,
That thou maiest know with love thou mak'st me flame.
Thou viewst the course, I thee: let either heed
What please them, and their eyes let either feede.
What horse-driver thou favourst most is best,
Because on him thy care doth hap to rest.
Such chaunce let me have: I would bravely runne,
On swift steedes mounted till the race were done.
Now would I slacke the reines, now lash their hide,
With wheeles bent inward now the ring-turne ride.
In running if I see thee, I shall stay,
And from my hands the reines will slip away.
Ah Pelops from his coach was almost feld,
Hippodameias lookes while he beheld.
Yet he attain'd by her support to have her,
Let us all conquer by our mistris favour.
In vaine why flyest backe? force conjoynes us now:
The places lawes this benefit allowe.
But spare my wench thou at her right hand seated,
By thy sides touching ill she is entreated.
And sit thou rounder, that behind us see,
For shame presse not her backe with thy hard knee.
But on the ground thy cloathes too loosely lie,
Gather them up, or lift them be will I.
Envious garments so good legges to hide,
The more thou look'st, the more the gowne envide.
Swift Atalantas flying legges like these,
Wish in his hands graspt did Hippomenes.
Coate-tuckt Dianas legges are painted like them,
When strong wilde beasts, she stronger hunts to strike them.
Ere these were seene, I burnt: what will these do?
Flames into flame, flouds thou powrest seas into.
By these I judge, delight me may the rest,
Which lie hid under her thinne veile supprest.
Yet in the meane time wilt small windes bestowe,
That from thy fanne, mov'd by my hand may blow?
Or is my heate, of minde, not of the skie?
1st womens love my captive brest doth frie?
While thus I speake, blacke dust her white robes ray:
Foule dust, from her faire body, go away.
Now comes the pompe; themselves let all men cheere:
The shout is nigh; the golden pompe comes heere.
First Victory is brought with large spred wing,
Goddesse come here, make my love conquering.
Applaud you Neptune, that dare trust his wave,
The sea I use not: me my earth must have.
Souldiour applaud thy Mars: no warres we move,
Peace pleaseth me, and in mid peace is love.
With Augures Phoebus, Phoebe with hunters standes,
To thee Minerva turne the craftes-mens hands.
Ceres and BacchusCountry-men adore,
Champions pleace Pollux, Castor love horsemen more
Thee gentle Venus, and the boy that flies,
We praise: great goddesse ayde my enterprize.
Let my new mistris graunt to be beloved:
She beckt, and prosperous signes gave as she moved.
What Venus promisd, promise thou we pray,
Greater then her, by her leave th'art, Ile say.
The Gods, and their rich pompe witnesse with me,
For evermore thou shalt my mistris be.
Thy legges hang-downe: thou maiest, if that be best,
A while thy tiptoes on the foote-stoole rest.
Now greatest spectacles the Prator sends,
Fower chariot-horses from the lists even ends.
I see whom thou affectest: he shall subdue,
The horses seeme, as thy desire they knewe.
Alas he runnes too farre about the ring,
What doest? thy wagon in lesse compasse bring.
What doest, unhappy? her good wishes fade,
Let with strong hand the reine to bend be made.
One slowe we favour, Romans him revoke:
And each give signes by casting up his cloake.
They call him backe: least their gownes tosse thy haire,
To hide thee in my bosome straight repaire.
But now againe the barriers open lye;
And forth the gay troupes on swift horses flie.
At least now conquer, and out-runne the rest:
My mistris wish confirme with my request.
My mistris hath her wish, my wish remaine:
He holdes the palme: my palme is yet to game.
She smilde, and with quicke eyes behight some grace:
Pay it not heere, but in an other place.