Rufus, a friend so vainly believ'd, so wrongly relied in,
(Vainly? alas the reward fail'd not, a heavier ill;)
Could'st thou thus steal on me, a lurking viper, an aching
Fire to the bones, nor leave aught to delight any more?
Nought to delight any more! ah cruel poison of equal 5
Lives! ah breasts that grew each to the other awhile!
Yet far most this grieves me, to think thy slaver abhorred
Foully my own love's lips soileth, a purity rare.
Thou shalt surely atone thine injury: centuries harken,
Know thee afar; grow old, fame, to declare him anew. 10