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Editor's Selection of Poems
In Rufum. Catul

by Richard Lovelace

Ep. 64 

Noli admirari, quare tibi foemina nulla,
  Rufe, velit tenerum supposuisse femur;
Non ullam rarae labefactes munere vestis,
  Aut pellucidulis deliciis lapidis.
Laedit te quaedam mala fabula, qua tibi fertur
  Valle sub alarum trux habitare caper.
Hunc metuunt omnes, neque mirum: nam mala valde est
  Bestia, nec quicum bela puella cubet.
Quare aut crudelem nasorum interfice pestem,
  Aut admirari desine, cur fugiant.

                  TO RUFUS.

That no fair woman will, wonder not why,
Clap (Rufus) under thine her tender thigh;
Not a silk gown shall once melt one of them,
Nor the delights of a transparent gemme.
A scurvy story kills thee, which doth tell,
That in thine armpits a fierce goat doth dwell.
Him they all fear full of an ugly stench:
Nor 's 't fit he should lye with a handsome wench;
Wherefore this noses cursed plague first crush,
Or cease to wonder, why they fly you thus.
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