Illud ego in tempus, si quando venerit illud,
Durior in vitiis cum videare meis,
Ac tibi amicitiae ratio sit ducta severe
Admonitis uso consiliisque senum;
Cum me praetereas ore ignorantis, easque
Vix oculos tollens, sidera bina, tuos;
Atque amor, affectu quantum mutatus ab illo !
Incipiat multum de gravitate loqui;
Illud ego in tempus iam munimenta paravi
Tuta, nihil fassus me meruisse boni.
Attollensque manum me contra dicta tuebor
Omnia quae possint ius stabilire tuum.
Iure quidem multo miserum me linquere possis,
Quem nequeo causam dicere cur quis amet.
Quam gravis ire viam pergo, cum finis eundi
Tantopere optatus tristius illud habet,
Vt requies nocturna mihi decantet in aure
'A caro tot habes millia mensa tuo.'
Vector equus mecum hac oppressus mole dolorum
Repit iners, in me tale gravatus onus;
Ceu sciat instinctu naturae, nil mihi velox
Esse volenti, a te dum properamus iter.
Sanguineum calcar porro non urget euntem
Quo subita interdum confodit ira cutem;
Ille gravi gemitu respondet, acerbius istud
Auribus his lateri quam mea plaga fuit.
Cum gemitu pecudis quoniam cura illa recursat,
Porro tristitiam, laeta iacere retro.
Thus can my love excuse the slow offence
Of my dull bearer when from thee I speed:
From where thou art why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting is no need.
O, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
When swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind;
In winged speed no motion shall I know:
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace;
Therefore desire, of perfect'st love being made,
Shall neigh-no dull flesh-in his fiery race;
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade;
Since from thee going he went wilful-slow,
Towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
So am I as the rich, whose blessed key
Can bring him to his sweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since, seldom coming, in the long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special blest,
By new unfolding his imprison'd pride.
Blessed are you, whose worthiness gives scope,
Being had, to triumph, being lack'd, to hope.
Sed pietate mea sic excusata caballi
Segnitia est, a te cum mihi tardat iter;
Hinc, ubi tu restas, quo praeceps auferor? inquam,
Dum redeam, alatis non eget usus equis.
Quid tamen, o, veniae tandem miser ille merebit,
Cum rapidi nihilum non videatur iners?
Vtar enim calcare procellis vectus in ipsis,
Vixque habeat motum praepetis ala mihi.
His desideriis nil respondebit equinum,
Ardor at ipse unus quem pius excit amor;
Hinniet hic, non lenta pecus, certaminis igne,
Illa sed hoc veniae pro pietate feret;
Libera eat, quoniam sic a te segnis abibat,
Et pedibus versum te mihi cursus erit.
En ego sum diti similis, qui possit adire
Clavis ope abstrusas, si videatur, opes;
Quas tamen ille hora non contemplabitur omni,
Ne perdant aciem gaudia rara suam.
Relligio est festis longi sollemnibus anni
Maxima, quod redeunt rarius illa tamen;
Stant intervallis, ut magni quaeque ruboris
Gemma, vel egregius torquis in orbe lapis.
Te retinens tempus quasi cista est, arcave, dicam,
Talis, ubi possit vestis honesta tegi,
Omnium ut horarum sit felicissima demum
Vna, diu inclusus cui reseretur honos.
Tu potius felix, virtutem propter amicis,
Absens seu praesens, spesve decusve tuis.
What is your substance, whereof are your made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
Describe Adonis, and the counterfeit
Is poorly imitated after
On Helen's cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new:
Speak of the spring and foison of the year;
The one doth shadow of your beauty show,
The other as your bounty doth appear;
And you in every blessed shape we know.
In all external grace you have some part,
But you like none, none you, for constant heart.
O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour which doth in it live.
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye
As the perfumed tincture of the roses,
Hang on such thorns and play as wantonly
When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
But, for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade,
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so;
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made:
And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth,
When that shall fade, my verse distils your truth.
Qua tu materie, quo demum corpore constas
Vnus, at innumeris cinctus imaginibus ?
Dum species aliis una est, sua cuique figurae,
Reddere tu cunctas, una figura, potes.
Enumera veneres in Adonide, pictaque prave
Quamlibet effigies os habet illa tuum.
Pinge Helenen, eiusque genis offunde venustum
Omne, sub Argivo tu novus ore venis.
Si loquimur de vere aut ubere divitis anni,
Purpureus veris fit tuus iste color;
Illa tui nobis generosi cordis imago est,
Teque refert species optima quaeque rei.
Sed tua dum pars fit quacunque est gratia formae,
Te penes est unum pectoris ista fides.
quam forma solet formosior illa videri Cui decus accessit quod dabit una fides! Forma rosae pulchra est, at pulchrior esse putatur Aura quod in medio vivit odora sinu. Flosculus in pratis tanto splendore rubescit Quantus odoriferis est color ille rosis;
Pensilis in spina simili, lascivit ut illae
Cum Zephyri timidas elicit aura comas. Sed, species tantum, spretus floretque caditque, Labitur, at nemo tollere curat humo; Non ea fit natura rosis, dulcissimus unus
Nascitur ex illis cum moriuntur odor.
Sic tibi, dulce caput, dum formae gloria marcet, Stat fidei testis pagina nostra tuae.
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