Tibulli mortem deflet.
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f Thetis and the Morn their sons did wail,And envious Fates great goddesses assail;Sad Elegy,[409] thy woful hairs unbind:Ah, now a name too true thou hast I find.Tibullus, thy work's poet, and thy fame,Burns his dead body in the funeral flame.Lo, Cupid brings his quiver spoilËd quite,His broken bow, his firebrand without light!How piteously with drooping wings he stands,And knocks his bare breast with self-angry hands. 10The locks spread on his neck receive his tears,And shaking sobs his mouth for speeches bears.So[410] at ∆neas' burial, men report,Fair-faced Ilus, he went forth thy court.And Venus grieves, Tibullus' life being spent,As when the wild boar Adon's groin had rent.The gods' care we are called, and men of piety,And some there be that think we have a deity.Outrageous death profanes all holy things,And on all creatures obscure darkness brings. 20To Thracian Orpheus what did parents good?Or songs amazing wild beasts of the wood?Where[411] Linus by his father Phoebus laid,To sing with his unequalled harp is said.See Homer from whose fountain ever filledPierian dew to poets is distilled:Him the last day in black Avern hath drowned:Verses alone are with continuance crowned.The work of poets lasts: Troy's labour's fame,And that slow web night's falsehood did unframe. 30So Nemesis, so Delia famous are,The one his first love, th' other his new care.What profit to us hath our pure life bred?What to have lain alone in empty bed?When bad Fates take good men, I am forbodBy secret thoughts to think there is a God.Live godly, thou shalt die; though honour heaven,Yet shall thy life be forcibly bereaven.Trust in good verse, Tibullus feels death's pains,Scarce rests of all what a small urn contains. 40Thee, sacred poet, could sad flames destroy?Nor fearËd they thy body to annoy?The holy gods' gilt temples they might fire,That durst to so great wickedness aspire.Eryx' bright empress turned her looks aside,And some, that she refrained tears, have denied.Yet better is't, than if Corcyra's Isle,Had thee unknown interred in ground most vile.Thy dying eyes here did thy mother close,Nor did thy ashes her last offerings lose. 50Part of her sorrow here thy sister bearing,Comes forth, her unkembed[412] locks asunder tearing.Nemesis and thy first wench join their kissesWith thine, nor this last fire their presence misses.Delia departing, "Happier loved," she saith,"Was I: thou liv'dst, while thou esteem'dst my faith."Nemesis answers, "What's my loss to thee?His fainting hand in death engraspËd me."If aught remains of us but name and spirit,Tibullus doth Elysium's joy inherit. 60Their youthful brows with ivy girt to meet him,With Calvus learned Catullus comes, and greet him;And thou, if falsely charged to wrong thy friend,Callus, that car'dst[413] not blood and life to spend,With these thy soul walks: souls if death release,The godly[414] sweet Tibullus doth increase.Thy bones, I pray, may in the urn safe rest,And may th' earth's weight thy ashes naught molest. FOOTNOTES: [408] Not in Isham copy or ed. A. [409] Ed. B "Eeliga"--Ed. C "Elegia." [410] "Fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicuntEgressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis." [411] The original has-- "Aelinon in silvis idem pater, aelinon, altisDicitur invita concinuisse lyra." In Marlowe's copy the couplet must have been very different. [412] Old eds. "vnkeembe" and "unkeemb'd." [413] Old eds. "carst." [414] "Auxisti numeros, culte Tibulle, pios." ELEGIA X.[415] Ad Cererem, conquerens quod ejus sacris cum amica concumbere nonpermittatur. Come were the times of Ceres' sacrifice;In empty bed alone my mistress lies.Golden-haired Ceres crowned with ears of corn,Why are our pleasures by thy means forborne?Thee, goddess, bountiful all nations judge,Nor less at man's prosperity any grudge.Rude husbandmen baked not their corn before,Nor on the earth was known the name of floor.[416]On mast of oaks, first oracles, men fed;This was their meat, the soft grass was their bed. 10First Ceres taught the seed in fields to swell,And ripe-eared corn with sharp-edged scythes to fell.She first constrained bulls' necks to bear the yoke,And untilled ground with crooked ploughshares broke.Who thinks her to be glad at lovers' smart,And worshipped by their pain and lying apart?Nor is she, though she loves the fertile fields,A clown, nor no love from her warm breast yields:Be witness Crete (nor Crete doth all things feign)Crete proud that Jove her nursery maintain. 20There, he who rules the world's star-spangled towers,A little boy drunk teat-distilling showers.Faith to the witness Jove's praise doth apply;Ceres, I think, no known fault will deny.The goddess saw Iasion on Candian Ide,With strong hand striking wild beasts' bristled hide.She saw, and as her marrow took the flame,Was divers ways distract with love and shame.Love conquered shame, the furrows dry were burned,And corn with least part of itself returned. 30When well-tossed mattocks did the ground prepare,Being fit-broken with the crooked share,And seeds were equally in large fields cast,The ploughman's hopes were frustrate at the last.The grain-rich goddess in high woods did stray,Her long hair's ear-wrought garland fell away.Only was Crete fruitful that plenteous year;Where Ceres went, each place was harvest there.Ida, the seat of groves, did sing[417] with corn,Which by the wild boar in the woods was shorn. 40Law-giving Minos did such years desire,And wished the goddess long might feel love's fire.Ceres, what sports[418] to thee so grievous were,As in thy sacrifice we them forbear?Why am I sad, when Proserpine is found,And Juno-like with Dis reigns under ground?Festival days ask Venus, songs, and wine,These gifts are meet to please the powers divine. FOOTNOTES: [415] Not in Isham copy or ed. A. [416] Threshing-floor ("area"). [417] Marlowe has made the school-boy's mistake of confusing "caneo" and"cano." [418] The original has "Quod tibi secubitus tristes, dea flava, fuissent,Hoc cogor sacris nunc ego ferre tuis." Marlowe appears to have read "Qui tibi concubitus," &c. ELEGIA XI.[419]
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