Ad amnem dum iter faceret ad amicam.
Flood with reed-grown slime banks, till I be past
Thy waters stay: I to my mistress haste.
Thou hast no bridge, nor boat with ropes to throw,
That may transport me, without oars to row.
Thee I have passed, and knew thy stream none such,
When thy wave's brim did scarce my ankles touch.
With snow thawed from the next hill now thou gushest,
And in thy foul deep waters thick thou rushest.
What helps my haste? what to have ta'en small rest?
What day and night to travel in her quest?
If standing here I can by no means get
My foot upon the further bank to set.
Now wish I those wings noble Perseus had,
Bearing the head with dreadful adders clad;
Now wish the chariot, whence corn fields were found,
First to be thrown upon the untilled ground:
I speak old poet's wonderful inventions,
Ne'er was, nor [e'er] shall be, what my verse mentions.
Rather, thou large bank-overflowing river,
Slide in thy bounds; so shalt thou run for ever.
Trust me, land-stream, thou shalt no envy lack,
If I a lover be by thee held back.
Great floods ought to assist young men in love,
Great floods the force of it do often prove.
In mid Bithynia, 'tis said, Inachus
Grew pale, and, in cold fords, hot lecherous.
Troy had not yet been ten years' siege out stander,
When nymph NeÊra rapt thy looks, Scamander.
What, not Alpheus in strange lands to run,
The Arcadian virgin's constant love hath won?
And Creusa unto Xanthus first affied,
They say Peneus near Phthia's town did hide.
What should I name Asop, that Thebe loved,
Thebe who mother of five daughters proved,
If, Achelˆus, I ask where thy horns stand,
Thou say'st, broke with Alcides' angry hand.
Not Calydon, nor ∆tolia did please;
One Deianira was more worth than these.
Rich Nile by seven mouths to the vast sea flowing,
Who so well keeps his water's head from knowing,
Is by Evadne thought to take such flame,
As his deep whirlpools could not quench the same.
Dry Enipeus, Tyro to embrace,
Fly back his stream charged; the stream charged, gave place.
Nor pass I thee, who hollow rocks down tumbling,
In Tibur's field with watery foam art rumbling.
Whom Ilia pleased, though in her looks grief revelled,
Her cheeks were scratched, her goodly hairs dishevelled.
She, wailing Mar's sin and her uncle's crime,
Strayed barefoot through sole places on a time.
Her, from his swift waves, the bold flood perceived,
And from the mid ford his hoarse voice upheaved,
Saying, "Why sadly tread'st my banks upon,
Ilia sprung from IdÊan Laomedon?
Where's thy attire? why wanderest here alone?
To stay thy tresses white veil hast thou none?
Why weep'st and spoil'st with tears thy watery eyes?
And fiercely knock'st thy breast that open lies?
His heart consists of flint and hardest steel,
That seeing thy tears can any joy then feel.
Fear not: to thee our court stands open wide,
There shalt be loved: Ilia, lay fear aside.
Thou o'er a hundred nymphs or more shalt reign,
For five score nymphs or more our floods contain.
Nor, Roman stock, scorn me so much I crave,
Gifts than my promise greater thou shalt have."
This said he: she her modest eyes held down.
Her woful bosom a warm shower did drown.
Thrice she prepared to fly, thrice she did stay,
By fear deprived of strength to run away.
Yet rending with enragËd thumb her tresses,
Her trembling mouth these unmeet sounds expresses:
"O would in my forefathers' tomb deep laid,
My bones had been while yet I was a maid:
Why being a vestal am I wooed to wed,
Deflowered and stainËd in unlawful bed.
Why stay I? men point at me for a whore,
Shame, that should make me blush, I have no more."
This said; her coat hoodwinked her fearful eyes,
And into water desperately she flies.
'Tis said the slippery stream held up her breast,
And kindly gave her what she likËd best.
And I believe some wench thou hast affected,
But woods and groves keep your faults undetected.
While thus I speak the waters more abounded,
And from the channel all abroad surrounded.
Mad stream, why dost our mutual joys defer?
Clown, from my journey why dost me deter?
How would'st thou flow wert thou a noble flood?
If thy great fame in every region stood?
Thou hast no name, but com'st from snowy mountains;
No certain house thou hast, nor any fountains;
Thy springs are nought but rain and melted snow,
Which wealth cold winter doth on thee bestow.
Either thou art muddy in mid-winter tide,
Or full of dust dost on the dry earth slide.
What thirsty traveller ever drunk of thee?
Who said with grateful voice, "Perpetual be!"
Harmful to beasts, and to the fields thou proves,
Perchance these others, me mine own loss moves.
To this I fondly loves of floods told plainly,
I shame so great names to have used so vainly.
I know not what expecting, I ere while,
Named Achelˆus, Inachus, and Nile.
But for thy merits I wish thee, white stream,
Dry winters aye, and suns in heat extreme.