all beauteous happy things devouring,15 Such a beauteous happy bird ye took him.
Ah! for pity; but ah! for him the sparrow,
Our poor sparrow, on whom to think my lady's
Eyes do angrily redden all a-weeping.
IV.
1.
The puny pinnace yonder you, my friends, discern,
Of every ship professes agilest to be.
Nor yet a timber o'er the waves alertly flew
She might not aim to pass it; oary-wing'd alike
5 To fleet beyond them, or to scud beneath a sail.
Nor here presumes denial any stormy coast
Of Adriatic or the Cyclad orbed isles,
A Rhodos immemorial, or that icy Thrace,
Propontis, or the gusty Pontic ocean-arm,
10 Whereon, a pinnace after, in the days of yore
A leafy shaw she budded; oft Cytorus' height
With her did inly whisper airy colloquy.
2.
Amastris, you by Pontus, you, the box-clad hill
Of high Cytorus, all, the pinnace owns, to both
15 Was ever, is familiar; in the primal years
She stood upon your hoary top, a baby tree,
Within your haven early dipt a virgin oar:
To carry thence a master o'er the surly seas,
A world of angry water, hail'd to left, to right
20 The breeze of invitation, or precisely set
The sheets together op'd to catch a kindly Jove.
Nor yet of any power whom the coasts adore
Was heard a vow to soothe them, all the weary way
From outer ocean unto glassy quiet here.
25 But all the past is over; indolently now
She rusts, a life in autumn, and her age devotes
To Castor and with him ador'd, the twin divine.
V.
Living, Lesbia, we should e'en be loving.
Sour severity, tongue of eld maligning,
All be to us a penny's estimation.
Suns set only to rise again to-morrow.
5 We, when sets in a little hour the brief light,
Sleep one infinite age, a night for ever.
Thousand kisses, anon to these an hundred,
Thousand kisses again, another hundred,
Thousand give me again, another hundred.
10 Then once heedfully counted all the thousands,
We'll uncount them as idly; so we shall not
Know, nor traitorous eye shall envy, knowing
All those myriad happy many kisses.
VI.
But that, Flavius, hardly nice or honest
This thy folly, methinks Catullus also
E'en had known it, a whisper had betray'd thee.
Some she-malady, some unhealthy wanton,
5 Fires thee verily: thence the shy denial.
Least, you keep not a lonely night of anguish;
Quite too clamorous is that idly-feigning
Couch, with wreaths, with a Syrian odour oozing;
Then that pillow alike at either utmost
10 Verge deep-dinted asunder, all the trembling
Play, the strenuous unsophistication;
All, O prodigal, all alike betray thee.
Why? sides shrunken, a sullen hip disabled,
Speak thee giddy, declare a misdemeanour.
15 So, whatever is yours to tell or ill or
Good, confess it. A witty verse awaits thee
And thy lady, to place ye both in heaven.
VII.
Ask me, Lesbia, what the sum delightful
Of thy kisses, enough to charm, to tire me?
Multitudinous as the grains on even
Lybian sands aromatic of Cyrene;
5 'Twixt Jove's oracle in the sandy desert
And where royally Battus old reposeth;
Yea a company vast as in the silence
Stars which stealthily gaze on happy lovers;
E'en so many the kisses I to kiss thee
10 Count, wild lover, enough to charm, to tire me;
These no curious eye can wholly number,
Tongue of jealousy ne'er bewitch nor harm them.
VIII.
Ah poor Catullus, learn to play the fool no more.
Lost is the lost, thou know'st it, and the past is past.
Bright once the days and sunny shone the light on thee,
Still ever hasting where she led, the maid so fair,
5 By me belov'd as maiden is belov'd no more.
Was then enacting all the merry mirth wherein
Thyself delighted, and the maid she said not nay.
Ah truly bright and sunny shone the days on thee.
