Tibullus

Yield prompt compliance to the maid’s desires;
A prompt compliance fans the lover’s fires:
Go pleas’d where’er she goes, tho’ long the way,
Tho’ the fierce Dog-star dart his sultry ray;
Tho’ painted Iris gird the bluish sky,
And sure portends, that rattling storms are nigh:
Or, if the fair one pant for sylvan fame,
Gay drag the meshes, and provoke the game:

Far from the tender Tribe of Boys remove,
For they’ve a thousand ways to kindle Love.
This, pleases as he strides the manag’d Horse,
And holds the taughten’d Rein with early Force;
This, as he swims, delights thy Fancy best,
Raising the smiling Wave with snowy Breast:
This, with a comely Look and manly Airs;
And that with Virgin Modesty ensnares.