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AMORES [THE LOVES]: BOOK 1, ELEGY 1 by PUBLIUS OVIDIUS NASO

First Line: FOR MIGHTY WARS I THOUGHT TO TUNE MY LUTE
Last Line: WHILE IN UNEQUAL VERSE I SING MY WOES.
Subject(s): CUPID; LOVE; OVID (43 B.C.-17 A.D.); TRANSLATING & INTERPRETING; WAR; EROS;

FOR mighty Wars I thought to Tune my Lute,
And make my Measures to my Subject suit.
Six Feetfor ev'ry Verse the Muse design'd:
But @3Cupid,@1 laughing, when he sawmy Mind,
From ev'ry Second Verse a Foot purloin'd.
Who gave Thee, Boy, this Arbitrary sway,
On Subjects, not thyown, Commands to lay,
Who @3Phoebus@1 only and his Laws obey?
'Tis more absurd than if the @3Queen of Love@1
Should in @3Minerva's@1 arms to Battel move;
Or Manly @3Pallas@1 from that Queen should take
Her Torch, and o're the dying Lover shake.
In fields as well may @3Cynthia@1 sow the Corn,
Or @3Ceres@1 wind in Woods the Bugle Horn.
As well may @3Phoebus@1 quit the trembling String,
For Sword and Shield; and @3Mars@1 may learn to Sing.
Already thy Dominions are too large;
Be not ambitious of a Foreign Charge.
If thou wilt Reign e're all, and ev'ry where,
The God of Musick for his Harp may fear.
Thus when with soaring Wings I seek Renown,
Thou pluck'st my Pinnions, and I flutter down.
Cou'd I on such mean Thoughts my Muse employ,
I want a Mistress or a Blooming Boy.
Thus I complain'd: his Bow the Stripling bent,
And chose an Arrow fit for his Intent.
The Shaft his purpose fatally pursues;
Now, Poet, there's a Subject for thy Muse.
He said, (too well, alas, he knows his Trade,)
For in my Breast a Mortal Wound he made.
Far hence, ye proud @3Hexameters,@1 remove,
My Verse is pac'd and tramel'd into love.
With Myrtle Wreaths my thoughtful brows inclose,
While in unequal Verse I sing my Woes.



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