turning
Upon the breast of her Septimius,
And unto his her face upraising,
And looking in his eyes so burning,
As if inebriate with gazing;
With that her rich red mouth she kissed them,
And said,--"My love, dear, dear Septimius!
Oh, let us serve our master duly--
Our master Love, as now caressing;
For never yet have Love so blessed them
As now my thoughts he blesseth truly,
Even to my heart of hearts, Septimius,
The inmost core."
She said: and, as before,
Love on the left hand aptly sneezed.
The omen showed that he was pleased
To give his blessing.

They loved--were loved: this sweet beginning
Omen'd their future bright condition.
Offer all Asia to Septimius--
Add Britain--put in competition
With Acme--wretchedly abstemious
They'd call him of your gifts, Ambition.
The only province worth his winning
Is Acme: Acme's faithful bosom
Knows nought on earth but her Septimius.
Ripe was the fruit, as fair the blossom
Of this their mutual love, and glowing;
And all admired its freshness growing.
Was never pair so fond and loving!
And Venus' self looked on approving.

CURATE.--Are you correct in your translation "Love, as before?" Is it
not that, as before he sneezed on the left, now he sneezes on the right
hand,--_was_ unfavourable--_is_ now propitious?

GRATIAN.--I see in the note that the passage bears either construction.
There is also authority given; for what to us is the left hand, to the
gods is the right. Now, Curate, for your Acme and Septimius.

CURATE.--

OF SEPTIMIUS AND ACME.

Acme to Septimius' breast,
Darling of his heart, was prest--
"Acme mine!" then said the youth,
"If I love thee not in truth,
If I shall not love thee ever
As a lover doated never,
May I in some lonely place,
Scorch'd by Ind's or Libya's sun,
Meet a lion's tawny face;
All defenceless, one to one."--
Love, who heard it in his flight,
To the truth his witness bore,
Sneezing quickly to the right--
(To the left he sneezed before.)

Acme then her head reflecting,
Kiss'd her sweet youth's ebriate eyes,
With her rosy lips connecting
Looks that glistened with replies.
"Thus, my life, my Septimillus!
Serve we Love, our only master:
One warm love-flood seems to thrill us,
Throbs it not in me the