War is the father of us all, King of all. Some it makes gods, some it makes men, some it read more

War is the father of us all, King of all. Some it makes gods, some it makes men, some it makes slaves, some free.

Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit read more

Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit is so charming, so sweet her fair face,
She shines a new Venus, a Muse, and a Grace.

Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your read more

Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your device,
. . . .
All things wait for and divine him,--
How shall I dare to malign him?

Therefore, if the gods are immortal and eternal, what need is there of the other sex, when they themselves do read more

Therefore, if the gods are immortal and eternal, what need is there of the other sex, when they themselves do not require succession, since they are always about to exist?rn

The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the read more

The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the gods.
[Lat., Omnia fanda, nefanda, malo permista furore,
Justificam nobis mentem avertere deorum.]

When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.

When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.

Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding read more

Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding sun thou runn'st thy race,
Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place;
For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear,
Thy mouth reveals the spring, and opens all the year;
Thee, goddess, thee, the storms of winter fly,
Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky.

Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be
In commune held by Pallas and by thee?
read more

Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be
In commune held by Pallas and by thee?
Her pleasure is in darts and battles; thine
In joyous feasts and draughts of rosy wine.

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.