And, just for the occasion, I'll throw in some Roman poetry (by Ovid) translated into charming Elizabethan English (by Christopher Marlowe):
Were Love the cause, it's like I shoulde descry him,
Or lies he close, and shoots where none can spie him?
T'was so, he stroke me with a slender dart,
Tis cruell love turmoyles my captive hart.
Yeelding or striving doe we give him might,
Lets yeeld, a burden easly borne is light.
-Amores 1.2.5-11
1 comment:
You know, it's right up there with Rome...but my Texas history prof failed to mention it! My apologies. Next year I'll celebrate them both!
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