- description
- # II. 211—234
## Overview
This is a section from the poem *Venus and Adonis*, spanning lines 211 to 234. It is part of the [VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY) chapter extracted from the file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA). The section was extracted on January 30, 2026, as part of the [PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y) collection.
## Context
The section is part of a larger chapter, [VENVS AND ADONIS.](arke:01KG6S4EKY2NN9C1PGK59TDRWY), within a poetry collection. It is preceded by section [II. 187—210](arke:01KG6S5HRJZQKNBA9Y497GEPQ8) and followed by section [ll. 235—258](arke:01KG6S5HRMNTS5SW60H8KZR7H7). The original text file was assembled from numerous smaller files.
## Contents
This section of *Venus and Adonis* continues the narrative of Venus's pursuit of Adonis. It describes Adonis's disdainful smile, Venus's passionate pleas, and Adonis's rejection and departure. The text includes descriptions of the setting, Adonis's physical appearance, and Venus's emotional state as she tries to persuade Adonis to stay with her. The section concludes with Adonis breaking free from Venus's embrace and hastening to his horse.
- description_generated_at
- 2026-01-30T06:25:33.892Z
- description_model
- gemini-2.5-flash-lite
- description_title
- II. 211—234
- end_line
- 1766
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T06:24:08.803Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1732
- text
- II. 211—234
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# VENYS AND ADONIS:
VVitin this limit is relieve inough,
Sweet bottoming graffe, and high delightful plaine,
Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure, and rough,
To shelter thee from tempests, and from raine:
Then be my deare, since I am such a parke,
No dog shal rowze thee, though a thousand bark.
At this Adonis smiles as in disdain,
That in each cheeke appears a prettie dimple;
Loue made those hollowes, if him selfe were slaine,
He might be buried in a tombe so simple,
Fore knowing well, if there be came to lie,
VVhy there loue liud, & there he could not die.
These louely caues, these round inchening pits,
Opend their mouths to swallow Venus liking:
Being mad before, how doth she now for wits?
Strucke dead at first, what needs a second striking?
Poore Queene of loue, in thine own law forlorne,
To loue a cheeke that smiles at thee in scorne.
Now which way shall she turne? what shall she say?
Her words are done, her woes the more increasing,
The time is spent, her object will away,
And from her twining armes doth urge releasing:
Pitie she cries, some fauour, some remorse,
Away he springs, and hasteth to his horse.
C ij
- title
- II. 211—234