but my hope hangs upon the same waves with Leander. Hark! the taper crackles; for it burns beside me as I write: it crackles, and gives propitious signs. See, my nurse pours wine upon flames that yield a favorable omen: she cries, To-morrow we shall be more, and bears the goblet to her mouth. O Leander, whose image only fills my heart, strive to surmount the dividing waves, and add in yourself another to our number. Return to your own camp, thou deserter of social love. Why are my limbs single in the midst of the bed? Nor is there any ground of fear: Venus herself will favour the attempt; and, sprung from the sea, will smooth the sea-green way. I have oft myself resolved to plunge amidst the waves; but this stormy streight is more favorable to the other sex. For why, when attempted by Phryxus and his sister, did she only give name to this vast bulk of water? Perhaps you fear there will be no opportunity of returning, or you cannot bear a weight of double toil.
