_To Chloe. I-23_

Ah Chloe, like a fawn you now elude me, Seeking its timid dam on lonely hills, Its dam who not without an idle tremor At breezes in the forest thrills. For if before the breeze the bushes quiver With rustling leaves, or if green lizards start Across the bramble, then it is it trembles,-- This little fawn--in knees and heart. But Chloe, I am not a cruel tiger, Nor a Gætulian lion, thee to chase; And now that thou art old enough to marry, Beside thy mother take thy place.