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 free