Then, yea, thou by thy dying hast broke my comfort, 0 brother;Buried together wi' thee lieth the whole of our house;Perisht along wi' thyself all gauds and joys of our life-tide,Douce love fostered by thee during the term of our days.After thy doom of death fro' mind I banishèd whollyStudies like these, and all lending a solace to soul;Wherefore as to thy writ :—"Verona's home for CatullusBringeth him shame, for there men of superior markMust on a deserted couch fain chafe their refrigerate limbs:"Such be no shame (Manius!): rather 'tis matter of ruth.Pardon me, then, wilt thou an gifts bereft me by grievingThese I send not to thee since I avail not present. For, that I own not here abundant treasure of writingsHas for its cause, in Rome dwell I; and there am I homed,There be my seat, and there my years are gathered to harvest;Out of book-cases galore here am I followed by one. This being thus, nill I thou deem 'tis spirit malignantActs in such wise or mind lacking of liberal mood That to thy prayer both gifts be not in plenty supplièd:Willingly both had I sent, had I the needed supply.Nor can I (Goddesses!) hide in what things Allius sent meAid, forbear to declare what was the aidance he deigned:Neither shall fugitive Time from centuries ever obliviousVeil in the blinds of night friendship he lavisht on me.But will I say unto you what you shall say to the manyThousands in turn, and make paper, old crone, to proclaimAnd in his death become noted the more and the more,Nor let spider on high that weaves her delicate webbingPractise such labours o'er Allius' obsolete name. For that ye weet right well what care Amathúsia two-facedGave me, and how she dasht every hope to the ground,Whenas I burnt so hot as burn Trinacria's rocks or Mallia stream that feeds Œtéan Thermopylae;Nor did these saddened eyes to be dimmed by assiduous weepingCease, and my cheeks with showers ever in sadness be wet.E'en as from aëry heights of mountain springeth a springletLimpidest leaping forth from rocking felted with moss,Then having headlong rolled the prone-laid valley downpouring,Populous region amid wendeth his gradual way, Sweetest solace of all to the sweltering traveller wayworn,Whenas the heavy heat fissures the fiery fields; Or, as to seamen lost in night of whirlwind a-gloomingGentle of breath there comes fairest and favouring breeze,Pollux anon being prayed, nor less vows offered to Castor:—Such was the aidance to us Manius pleased to afford.He to my narrow domains far wider limits laid open,He too gave me the house, also he gave me the dame,She upon whom both might exert them, partners in love deeds.Thither graceful of gait pacing my goddess white-huedCame and with gleaming foot on the worn sole of the thresholdStood she and prest its slab creakihg her sandals the while;E'enso with love enflamed in olden days to her helpmate,Laodamía the home Protesiléan besought,Sought, but in vain, for ne'er wi' sacrificial blood shedVictims appeased the Lords ruling Celestial seats:Never may I so joy in aught (Rhamnusian Virgin!) That I engage in deed maugrè the will of the Lords.How starved altar can crave for gore in piety poured,Laodamia learnt taught by the loss of her man,Driven perforce to loose the neck of new-wedded help-mate,Whenas a winter had gone, nor other winter had come,Ere in the long dark nights her greeding love was so satedThat she had power to live maugrè a marriage broke off,Which, as the Parcae knew, too soon was fated to happenShould he a soldier sail bound for those llian walls. For that by Helena's rape, the Champion-leaders of ArgivesUnto herself to incite Troy had already begun,Troy (ah, curst be the name) common tomb of Asia and Europe,Troy to sad ashes that turned valour and valorous men!Eke to our brother beloved, destruction ever lamentedBrought she : 0 Brother for aye lost unto wretchedmost me,Oh, to thy wretchedmost brother lost the light of his life-tide,Buried together wi' thee lieth the whole of our house:Perisht along wi' thyself forthright all joys we enjoyèd,Douce joys fed by thy love during the term of our days;Whom now art tombed so far nor 'mid familiar pavestonesNor wi' thine ashes stored near to thy kith and thy kin,But in that Troy obscene, that Troy of ill-omen, entombèd