Horace; Ode ix., Book iii.

HORACE. While I could thy soul inflame, And no other dared thee claim, Persia’s monarch could not be Half so blest as I with thee. LYDIA. While I flamed thy soul’s first fire, Ere Chloe could thy soul inspire, Such heavenly glory then was mine, As Ilia’s fame could not outshine. HORACE. True, Chloe now does claim a part, And with her lyre sways my heart; For her, my soul’s loved consort—mine, All to death would I resign! LYDIA. For me sweet Calai’s spirit burns, And love for love my soul returns, Twice would I death’s grim terrors dare, That fates my gentle youth should spare! HORACE. Should love’s delicious dream again, Fling round our souls that golden chain, And Chloe hence depart fore’er, That chain again would Lydia wear? LYDIA. Thou, fair as Hesperus of heaven; Thou, light as is the breath of even, Yet rasher than the impetuous sea, I would live and die with thee!