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Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/114

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74
HOURS OF IDLENESS.

IMITATION OF TIBULLUS.

SULPICIA AD CERINTHUM (LIB. QUART.).

Cruel Cerinthus! does the fell disease[1]
Which racks my breast your fickle bosom please?
Alas! I wish'd but to o'ercome the pain,
That I might live for Love and you again;
But, now, I scarcely shall bewail my fate:
By Death alone I can avoid your hate.


TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS.

LUGETE VENERES CUPIDINESQUE (CARM. III.).[2]

Ye Cupids, droop each little head,
Nor let your wings with joy be spread,
My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead,
Whom dearer than her eyes she lov'd:[3]
For he was gentle, and so true,
Obedient to her call he flew,
No fear, no wild alarm he knew,
But lightly o'er her bosom mov'd:


  1. —— does this fell disease.—[4to. P. on V. Occasions.]
  2. Luctus De Morte Passeris.—[4to. P. on V. Occasions.]
  3. Which dearer.—[4to]