ABSTRACT
Sends prayers past counting up into the sky; Now praying and now-if she should seem worseHurling at heaven many a savage curse. Fear not, Cerinthus; god's by love disarmed. Love her forever and she'll stay unharmed. Also, no tears; it's not appropriate To weep until you two have had a fight. But all yours now, she thinks of you alone; A mob of others waits on her in vain. Please, Phoebus! Praises will be heaped on you For having saved not just one life but two! What joy and fame for you when each one vies To heap your altar with the debts s/he owes! And every single god above will pray For special skills like yours to come his way.
