CATULLUS AND LESBIA.
21
Lesbia was incapable of deeper feeling than wantoning with a bird-pet. But the birdie's elegy is a yet more memorable poem,—one, too, that elicits the poet's element of pathos. Written to ingratiate himself with Lesbia, its burden is a loyal commemoration of his quondam rival; but a line or two, even if suggested by an Alexandrian idyllist, on the greed of Orcus and the brief life of all that is lovely and lovable, touch a chord which was never far from the vein of Catullus, though he is soon recalled to the sensible detriment which his lady's eyes are likely to suffer from her tears:—
"Loves and Graces mourn with me—
Mourn, fair youths, where'er ye be!
Dead my Lesbia's sparrow is—
Sparrow that was all her bliss;
Than her very eyes more dear;
For he made her dainty cheer,
Knew her well, as any maid
Knows her mother; never strayed
From her bosom, but would go
Hopping round her, to and fro;
And to her, and her alone,
Chirruped with such pretty tone.
Now he treads that gloomy track
Whence none ever may come back.
Out upon you, and your power,
Which all fairest things devour,
Orcus' gloomy shades, that e'er
Ye took my bird that was so fair!
Ah, the pity of it! Thou
Poor bird, thy doing 'tis, that now
My loved one's eyes are swollen and red
With weeping for her darling dead."
Mourn, fair youths, where'er ye be!
Dead my Lesbia's sparrow is—
Sparrow that was all her bliss;
Than her very eyes more dear;
For he made her dainty cheer,
Knew her well, as any maid
Knows her mother; never strayed
From her bosom, but would go
Hopping round her, to and fro;
And to her, and her alone,
Chirruped with such pretty tone.
Now he treads that gloomy track
Whence none ever may come back.
Out upon you, and your power,
Which all fairest things devour,
Orcus' gloomy shades, that e'er
Ye took my bird that was so fair!
Ah, the pity of it! Thou
Poor bird, thy doing 'tis, that now
My loved one's eyes are swollen and red
With weeping for her darling dead."
