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Elegia XVIII. Ad Macrum, quod de amoribus scribat, - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 3 (Poems) [1598]

Edition used:

The Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. A.H. Bullen (London: John C. Nimmo, 1885). Vol. 3.

Part of: The Works of Christopher Marlowe, 3 vols.

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Elegia XVIII.1
Ad Macrum, quod de amoribus scribat,

  • To tragic verse while thou Achilles train'st,
  • And new sworn soldiers' maiden arms retain'st,
  • We, Macer, sit in Venus' slothful shade,
  • And tender love hath great things hateful made.
  • Often at length, my wench depart I bid,
  • She in my lap sits still as erst she did.
  • I said, “It irks me:” half to weeping framed,
  • “Ay me!” she cries, “to love why art ashamed?
  • Then wreathes about my neck her winding arms,
  • And thousand kisses gives, that work my harms:

    10

  • I yield, and back my wit from battles bring,
  • Domestic acts, and mine own wars to sing.
  • Yet tragedies, and sceptres fill'd my lines,
  • But though I apt were for such high designs,
  • Love laughèd at my cloak, and buskins painted,
  • And rule, so soon with private hands acquainted.
  • My mistress' deity also drew me fro it,
  • And love triumpheth o'er his buskined poet.
  • What lawful is, or we profess love's art:
  • (Alas, my precepts turn myself to smart!)

    20

  • We write, or what Penelope sends Ulysses,
  • Or Phillis' tears that her Demophoon misses;
  • What thankless Jason, Macareus, and Paris.
  • Phedra, and Hippolyte may read, my care is,
  • And what poor Dido, with her drawn sword sharp,
  • Doth say, with her that loved the Aonian harp.
  • As1 soon as from strange lands Sabinus came,
  • And writings did from divers places frame,
  • White-cheeked Penelope knew Ulysses' sign,
  • The step-dame read Hippolytus' lustless line.

    30

  • Æneas to Elisa answer gives,
  • And Phillis hath to read, if now she lives;
  • Jason's sad letter doth Hypsipyle greet:
  • Sappho her vowed harp lays at Phœbus' feet.
  • Nor of thee, Macer, that resound'st forth arms,
  • Is golden love hid in Mars' mid alarms.
  • There Paris is, and Helen's crime's record,
  • With Laodamia, mate to her dead lord,
  • Unless I err to these thou more incline,
  • Than wars, and from thy tents wilt come to mine.

    40

[1]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[1]The original has “Quam cito de toto rediit meus orbe Sabinus &c