TO PORCIUS AND SOCRATIONPorcius 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 CICEROMost 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,In mode becoming souls of dainty strain.Inditing verses either of us twainNow in one measure then in other lineWe rang the changes amid wit and wine.Then fared I homewards by thy fun so firedAnd by thy jests (Licinius!) so inspired,Nor food my hapless appetite availedNor sleep in quiet rest my eyelids veiled,But o'er the bedstead wild in furious plightI tossed a-longing to behold the light,So I might talk wi' thee, and be wi' thee.But when these wearied limbs from labour freeWere on my couchlet strewn half-dead to lie, For thee (sweet wag!) this poem for thee wrote I,Whereby thou mete and weet my cark and care.Now be not over-bold, nor this our prayerOutspit thou (apple of mine eyes !): we prayLest doom thee Nemesis hard pain repay :— She's a dire Goddess, 'ware thou cross her way.

TO LESBIAPeer of a God meseemeth he, Nay passing Gods (and that can be!) Who all the while sits facing theeSees thee and hearsThy low sweet laughs which (ah me!) daze Mine every sense, and as I gaze Upon thee (Lesbia!) o'er me straysMy tongue is dulled, my limbs adownFlows subtle flame; with sound its own Rings either ear, and o'er are strownMine eyes with night.Ease has thy lot, Catullus, crost,Ease gladdens thee at heaviest cost,Ease killed the Kings ere this and lost the tallest towns

CATULLUS TO HIMSELFWhat is't, Catullus? Why delay to out die?That Wen hight Nonius sits in curule chair,For Consulship Vatinius false doth swear;What is't, Catullus? Why delay to out die?

A JEST CONCERNING CALVUSI laughed at one 'mid Forum-crowd unknownWho, when Vatinius' crimes in wondrous wayHad by my Calvus been explained, exposed,His hand upraising high admiring cried"Great Gods! the loquent little Doodle-diddle!"

To JULIUS CAESAR(?)The head of Otho, puniest of patesThe rustic half-washt shanks of Nerius And Libo's subtle silent fizzling-farts. I wish that leastwise these should breed disgust In thee and old Fuficius, rogue twice-cookt.Again at these mine innocent iamb-lines Wi' wrath be wrothest; unique Emperor!

OF HIS FRIEND CAMERIUSWe pray, an' haply irk it not when prayed,Show us where shadowed hidest thou in shade!Thee throughout Campus Minor sought we all,Thee in the Circus, thee in each bookstall,