Be kind, ye fair, to the Aonian bards. In them there is inspiration, and the Pierian maids show favour unto them. In us a Divinity exists: and we have intercourse with the heavens. From the realms of the skies does that inspiration proceed. 'Tis a crime to look for a present from the learned Poets. Ah wretched me! of this crime no fair one stands in dread. Still, do act the dissemblers, and at the very first sight, do not be ravenous. On seeing your nets, a new lover will stop short. But neither can the rider manage with the same reins the horse which has but lately felt the bridle, and that which is well-trained; nor yet must the same path be trod by you in order to captivate the feelings that are steadied by years, and inexperienced youth. The latter is raw, and now for the first time known in the camp of Love, who, a tender prey, has reached your chamber; with you alone is he acquainted; to you alone would he ever prove constant. Shun a rival; so long as you alone shall possess him, you will be the conqueror. Both sovereignties and love do not last long with one to share in them. The other, the veteran soldier, will love you gradually, and with moderation; and he will put up with much that will not be endured by the novice. He will neither break down your door-posts, nor burn them with raging flames; nor will he fly at the tender cheek of his mistress with his nails. He will neither tear his own clothes, nor yet the clothes of the fair; nor will her torn locks be a cause for grieving. These things befit boys, who are heated with youthful years and with passion: the other, with tranquil feelings, will put up with cruel wounds. With slowly consuming fires will he smoulder, just like a damp torch; or like the wood that has been cut down upon the mountain ridge. This passion is more sure; the former is short-lived and more bounteous. With speedy hand do you pluck the fruit that passes away. Let all points be surrendered; the gates we have opened to the enemy, and let confidence be placed in this perfidious betrayal. That which is easily conceded, but badly supports a lasting passion. A repulse must now and then be mingled with your joyous dalliance. Let him lie down before your doors: "Cruel door!" let him exclaim; and let him do many a thing in humble, many in threatening mood. The sweet we cannot endure; with bitter potions we may be refreshed. Full oft does the bark perish, overwhelmed by favouring gales. This it is that does not permit wives to be loved; husbands have access to them, whenever they please. Shut your door, [1110] and let your porter say to you with surly lips, "You cannot come in, desire will seize you as well, thus shut out."