No More Learning

Then take thee whatso in this booklet be,
Such as it is, whereto O Patron Maid
To live down Ages lend thou lasting aid! 10

To whom inscribe my dainty tome--just out and with ashen pumice polished?
Cornelius, to thee! for thou wert wont to deem my triflings of account, and
at a time when thou alone of Italians didst dare unfold the ages' abstract
in three chronicles--learned, by Jupiter! --and most laboriously writ.
Wherefore take thou this booklet, such as 'tis, and O Virgin Patroness, may
it outlive generations more than one.

II.

Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
Quicum ludere, quem in sinu tenere,
Quoi primum digitum dare adpetenti
Et acris solet incitare morsus,
Cum desiderio meo nitenti 5
Carum nescioquid libet iocari
Vt solaciolum sui doloris,
Credo ut iam gravis acquiescat ardor:
Tecum ludere sicut ipsa possem
Et tristis animi levare curas! 10
* * * *
Tam gratumst mihi quam ferunt puellae
Pernici aureolum fuisse malum,
Quod zonam soluit diu ligatam.

II.

LESBIA'S SPARROW.

Sparrow! my pet's delicious joy,
Wherewith in bosom nurst to toy
She loves, and gives her finger-tip
For sharp-nib'd greeding neb to nip,
Were she who my desire withstood 5
To seek some pet of merry mood,
As crumb o' comfort for her grief,
Methinks her burning lowe's relief:
Could I, as plays she, play with thee,
That mind might win from misery free! 10
* * * *
To me t'were grateful (as they say),
Gold codling was to fleet-foot May,
Whose long-bound zone it loosed for aye.

Sparrow, petling of my girl, with which she wantons, which she presses to
her bosom, and whose eager peckings is accustomed to incite by stretching
forth her forefinger, when my bright-hued beautiful one is pleased to jest
in manner light as (perchance) a solace for her heart ache, thus methinks
she allays love's pressing heats!
Would that in manner like, I were able
with thee to sport and sad cares of mind to lighten!

* * * *

This were gracious to me as in story old to the maiden fleet of foot was
the apple golden-fashioned which unloosed her girdle long-time girt.

III.

Lugete, o Veneres Cupidinesque,
Et quantumst hominum venustiorum.
Passer mortuus est meae puellae,
Passer, deliciae meae puellae,
Quem plus illa oculis suis amabat: 5
Nam mellitus erat suamque norat
Ipsa tam bene quam puella matrem
Nec sese a gremio illius movebat,
Sed circumsiliens modo huc modo illuc
Ad solam dominam usque pipiabat. 10
Qui nunc it per iter tenebricosum
Illuc, unde negant redire quemquam.
At vobis male sit, malae tenebrae
Orci, quae omnia bella devoratis:
Tam bellum mihi passerem abstulistis. 15
O factum male! io miselle passer!
Tua nunc opera meae puellae
Flendo turgiduli rubent ocelli.

III.

ON THE DEATH OF LESBIA'S SPARROW.

Weep every Venus, and all Cupids wail,
And men whose gentler spirits still prevail.
Dead is the Sparrow of my girl, the joy,
Sparrow, my sweeting's most delicious toy,
Whom loved she dearer than her very eyes; 5
For he was honeyed-pet and anywise
Knew her, as even she her mother knew;
Ne'er from her bosom's harbourage he flew
But 'round her hopping here, there, everywhere,
Piped he to none but her his lady fair. 10
Now must he wander o'er the darkling way
Thither, whence life-return the Fates denay.
But ah!