To Chloë (Odes, I, 23) - Horace

You shun me, Chloë, wild and shy,
As some stray fawn that seeks its mother
Through trackless woods. If spring winds sigh
It vainly strives its fears to smother.

Its trembling knees assail each other
When lizards stir the brambles dry;—
You shun me, Chloë, wild and shy,
As some stray fawn that seeks its mother.

And yet no Libyan lion I;—
No ravening thing to rend another;
Lay by your tears, your tremors dry,
A husband's better than a brother;
Nor shun me, Chloë, wild and shy,
As some stray fawn that seeks its mother.

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Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus) (65-8 BC) Italy (Ancient Rome)
Translation by Austin Dobson (1840-1921)