The poems of Catullus, tr. into Engl. verse, with notes by T. Martin

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Page 173 - Come, let us go while we are in our prime; And take the harmless folly of the time. We shall grow old apace, and die Before we know our liberty. Our life is short, and our days run As fast away as does the...
Page xl - ... the faults he would not show : Break lock and seal : betray the trust : Keep nothing sacred : 'tis but just The many-headed beast should know.
Page 232 - Ah ! see the virgin rose, how sweetly shee Doth first peepe foorth with bashfull modestee, That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may ! Lo ! see soone after how more bold and free Her bared bosome she doth broad display ! Lo ! see soone after how she fades and falls away...
Page 211 - And being ravish'd thus, Come, I will drink a tun To my Propertius. Now, to Tibullus next, This flood I drink to thee; — But stay, I see a text, That this presents to me. Behold! Tibullus lies Here burnt, whose small return Of ashes scarce suffice To fill a little urn. Trust to good verses then; They only will aspire, When pyramids, as men, Are lost i' th
Page 246 - And strike to dust the imperial towers of Troy; Steel could the works of mortal pride confound, And hew triumphal arches to the ground. What wonder then, fair nymph ! thy hairs should feel The conquering force of unresisted steel?
Page 242 - Tell that I am forsaken ; do my face (If thou hadst ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, Antiphila ; strive to make me look Like Sorrow's monument ; and the trees about me, Let them be dry and leaveless ; lei the rocks Groan with continual surges, and behind me Make all a desolation ; look, look, wenches, A miserable life of this poor picture.
Page 166 - Her voice is hovering o'er my soul — it lingers O'ershadowing it with soft and lulling wings. The blood and life within those snowy fingers Teach witchcraft to the instrumental strings. My brain is wild, my breath comes quick — The blood is listening in my frame, And thronging shadows, fast and thick, Fall on my overflowing eyes ; My heart is quivering like a flame ; As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies, I am dissolved in these consuming ecstasies.
Page 171 - Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night.
Page 172 - Must my heart still break? Love makes me write what shame forbids to speak. Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score ; Then to that twenty, adde an hundred more : A thousand to that hundred ; so kisse on, To make that thousand up a million. Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kisse afresh, as when we first begun.
Page 228 - Why stand ye still, ye virgins, in amaze, Upon her so to gaze, Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing, To which the woods did answer, and your echo ring?

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