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The Poems of Catullus, Tr. Into Engl. Verse, With Notes by T. Martin


The Poems of Catullus, Tr. Into Engl. Verse, With Notes by T. Martin

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    Available in PDF Format | The Poems of Catullus, Tr. Into Engl. Verse, With Notes by T. Martin.pdf | Unknown
    Gaius Valerius Catullus
General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1875 Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to where you can select from more than a million books for free. Excerpt: I POEMS OF CATULLUS. TO CORNELIUS NEPOS. Y little volume is complete, Fresh pumice-polished and as neat As book need wish to be : And now, what patron shall I choose For these gay sallies of my muse ? Cornelius, whom but thee! For though they are but trifles, thou Some value didst to them allow, And that from thee is fame, Who dared in thy three volumes' space, Alone of all Italians, trace Our history and name. Great Jove, what lore, what labour there ! Then take this little book, whate'er Of good or bad it store : And grant, oh guardian Muse, that it May keep the flavour of its wit A century or more! THE SAME (retranslated). WHOM shall I give this pretty little book to, New and fresh from the polish of the grit- stone ? Thee, Cornelius ! For often thou hast said, these Trifles of mine were not without their merit -- Thou, who hast dared, alone of all Italians, This world's tale in volumes three to trace out: Jove ! What research, what marvels there of learning! Wherefore, such as it is, this little booklet, Take, friend : and then, oh tutelary Virgin, Centuries to come may find it still surviving. TO LESBIA. T)EER for the gods he seems to me, J- And mightier, if that may be, Who sitting face to face with thee, Can there serenely gaze. Can hear thee sweetly speak the while, Can see thee, Lesbia, sweetly smile : Joys that from me my senses wile And leave me in a maze. For ever, when thy face I view, My voice is to its task untrue, My tongue is paralysed, and through Each limb a subtle flame Runs swiftly: murmurs dim arise Within my ears...  
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