IDYL XIX. THE HONEY-COMB STEALER. As from a hive the thieving Eros drew Stamped, jumped-and then to Cytherea sprung; Shewed her the wound, and cried: “A thing how wee, Such great wounds making—such a little thing?" IDYL XX. EUNICA. ARGUMENT. The poet introduces a cowherd heavily complaining of the contempt with which a damsel of the city had repelled his addresses. He inveighs against her pride, and comforts himself with the reflection that her scorn proceeded not from his own unworthiness, or want of personal recommendations, but from his belonging to a class, some individuals of which had been beloved even by goddesses. He prays that, since she is so difficult to please, she may ever sleep alone. IDYL XX. EUNICA. EUNICA, Smiling with a bitter scoff, When I would sweetly kiss her, bade me " off! And you smell rank: don't foul me; back, clown, back!" Thrice on her breast she spat, these hard words saying, Me scornfully from head to foot surveying ; |