Let him who loves, where love success may find,
Spread all his sails before the prosp'rous wind;
But let poor youths who female scorn endure,
And hopeless burn, repair to me for cure.
Siquis amat quod amare iuvat, feliciter ardens
Gaudeat, et vento naviget ille suo.
At siquis male fert indignae regna puellae,
Ne pereat, nostrae sentiat artis opem.
Gaudeat, et vento naviget ille suo.
At siquis male fert indignae regna puellae,
Ne pereat, nostrae sentiat artis opem.
Original text (Latin)
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Lines 13-16