I myself, fresh prize, will just now have received my wound
and my captive mind will display its new chains.
You’ll lead Conscience, hands twisted behind her back,
and Shame, and whoever Love’s sect includes.
But, I think, if desire were attacking me I’d feel it.
Surely he’s crept in and skilfully hurt me with secret art.
That’s it: a slender arrow sticks fast in my heart,
and cruel Love lives there, in my conquered breast.
from Ovid's Amores
Book I Elegy II: Love’s Victim
Unknown "Bubbles" Frisky
- 16 years, 5 months, 14 days ago