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PUBLII VIRGILII MARONIS

СОРА.

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PUBLII VIRGILII MARONIS

COPA.

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Copa Syrisca, caput Graia redimita mitella,

Crispum sub crotalo docta movere latus, Ebria fumosa saltat lasciva taberna,

Ad cubitum raucos excutiens calamos.
Quid juvat æstivo defessum pulvere abesse,

Quam potius bibulo decubuisse toro ?
Sunt topia, et calices, cyathi, rosa, tibia, chordæ,

Et trichila umbriferis frigida arundinibus ;
Est et, Manalio quæ garrit dulce sub antro,

Rustica pastoris fistula more sonans; Est et vappa, cado nuper diffusa picato;

Est strepitans rauco murmure riyus aquæ. Sunt etiam croceo viola de flore coi olla,

Serta que purpurea lutea mixta rosa;
Et quæ virgineo libata Acheloïs ab amne

Lilia vimineis attulit in calatlis.
Sunt et caseoli, quos juncea fiscina siccat;

Sunt autumnali cerea pruna die,

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THE COPA

OF

PUBLIUS

VIRGILIUS MARO.

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The Syrian tavern-girl, about her head
Wearing a Grecian handkerchief entwined,
And taught to wave her sides to castanets,
(While) harsh reeds shaking at her elbow-ends,
Wantonly dances in the smoky inn.
How it delights one weary from fatigue
(Straight) from the summer dust to have escaped ;
How much t' have rested on the drinking-bench.
Cups, taukards, pots, pipes, roses, lutes there are,
And arbours by shade-bearing reeds refresh'd;
’Neath th' soft Manalian grot one sweetly sings,
Playing in rustic way the shepherd's pipe;
There's wine, too, fresh pour’d from the pitch-spread cask ;
A streamlet with soft murmur trickling by ;
There, too, are violet-wreaths with crocus-flowers,
And buttercups with crimson roses mix'd.
She who pure streams from Achelous pour'd
Has lilies brought, in wicker baskets (laid);
There are small cheeses, which rush baskets dry,
And, for autumnal days, the yellow plum,

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Castaneæque nuces, et suave rubentia mala.

Est hic munda Ceres, est Amor, est Bromius. Sunt et mora cruenta, et lentis uva racemis,

Est pendens junco cæruleus cucumis. Est tugurî custos armatus falce saligna ;

Sed non et vasto est inguine terribilis. Huc Alibida veni : fessus jam sudat asellus :

Parce illi ; vestrum delicium est asinus. Nunc cantu crebro rumpunt arbusta cicada :

Nunc varia in gelida sepe lacerta latet.
Si sapis, estivo recubans te prolue vitro;

Seu vis, crystalli ferte novos calices.
Eja age pampinea fessus requiesce sub umbra,

Et gravidum roseo necte caput strophio;
Formosus teneræ decerpes ora puellæ.

Ah! pereat, cui sunt prisca supercilia !
Quid cineri ingrato servas bene olentia serta ?

Anne coronato vis lapide ista legi ?
Pone merum et talos. Pereant, qui crastina curant !

Mors aurem vellens : "Vivite,” ait, "venio."

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COPÆ FINIS.

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