To thy suburban Cottage fared I fainAnd fro' my bronchials drave that cursèd coughWhich not unmerited on me my maw,A-seeking sumptuous banquetings, bestowed.For I requesting to be Sestius' guestRead against claimant Antius a speech,Full-filled with poisonous pestilential trash.Hence a grave frigid rheum and frequent coughShook me till fled I to thy bosom, whereRepose and nettle-broth healed all my ills.Wherefore recruited now best thanks I giveTo thee for nowise punishing my sins:Nor do I now object if noisome writsOf Sestius hear I, but that cold and coughAnd rheum may plague, not me, but Sestius' self Who asks me only his ill writs to read.
ON ACME AND SEPTUMIUS
To Acmé quoth Septumius who his fere Held on his bosom-" Acme', mine! next year, Unless I love thee fondlier than before,And with each twelve month love thee more and more,As much as lover's life can slay with yearning,Alone in Lybia, or Hind's clime a-burning,Be mine to encounter Lion grisly-eyed!"While he was speaking Love on leftward side(As wont) approving sneeze from dextral sped.But Acmé backwards gently bending head,And the love-drunken eyes of her sweet boyKissing with yonder rosy mouth, "My joy,"She murmured, "my life-love Septumillus mine!Unto one master's hest let's aye incline,As burns with fuller and with fiercer fireIn my soft marrow set, this love-desire!"While she was speaking, Love from leftward side(As wont) with sneeze approving rightwards hied.Now with boon omens wafted on their way,In mutual fondness, love and loved are they.Love-sick Septumius holds one Acmé's love,Of Syrias or either Britains high above,Acmé to one Septumius full of faithHer love and love-liesse surrendereth.Who e'er saw mortals happier than these two? Who e'er a better omened Venus knew?HIS ADIEUX TO BITHYNIA
Now Spring his cooly mildness brings us back,Now th' equinoctial heaven's rage and wrackHushes at hest of Zephyr's bonny breeze.Far left (Catullus!) be the Phrygian leasAnd summery Nicaea's fertile downs:Fly we to Asia's fame-illumined towns.Now lust my fluttering thoughts for wayfare long,Now my glad eager feet grow steady, strong.O fare ye well, my comrades, pleasant throng,Ye who together far from homesteads flying,By many various ways come homewards hieing.TO PORCIUS AND SOCRATION
Porcius and Socration, pair sinisterOf Piso, scabs and starvelings of the world,You to Fabúllus and my Verianiólus,Hath dared yon snipt Priapus to prefer?Upon rich banquets sumptuously spreadStill gorge you daily while my comrades must Go seek invitals where the three roads fork?TO JUVENTIUSThose honied eyes of thine (Juventius!)If any suffer me sans stint to buss,I'd kiss of kisses hundred thousands three,Nor ever deem I'd reach satiety,Not albe denser than dried wheat-ears showThe kissing harvests our embraces grow.
TO MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO
Most eloquent 'mid race of Romulus>That is or ever was (Marc Tullius!)Or in the coming years the light shall see,His thanks, the warmest, offers unto theeCatullus, poet sorriest that be, And by such measure poet sorriest, As thou of pleaders art the bestest best.TO HIS FRIEND LICINIUSIdly (Licinius!) we our yesterday,Played with my tablets much as pleased us play,