Oh, there once was a lady, and so… Whose lover grew weary, whose love… “My child,” he remarked, “though o… In the manner of men, I suggest w… And the truest of friends ever aft…

God’s acre was her garden-spot, sh… She sat there often, of the Summe… Little and slim and sweet, among t… Her hair a fable in the leveled ra… She turned the fading wreath, the…

Love has gone a-rocketing. That is not the worst; I could do without the thing, And not be the first. Joy has gone the way it came.

Star, that gives a gracious dole, What am I to choose? Oh, will it be a shriven soul, Or little buckled shoes? Shall I wish a wedding-ring,

Lady, if you’d slumber sound, Keep your eyes upon the ground. If you’d toss and turn at night, Slip your glances left and right. Would the mornings find you gay,

Dearest one, when I am dead Never seek to follow me. Never mount the quiet hill Where the copper leaves are still, As my heart is, on the tree

... So, praise the gods, Catullus… And let me tend you this advice, m… Take any lover that you will, or m… Except a poet. All of them are qu… It’s just the same– a quarrel or a…

There was a rose that faded young; I saw its shattered beauty hung Upon a broken stem. I heard them say, “What need to c… With roses budding everywhere?”

New love, new love, where are you… All along a narrow way that marks… How are you to slake me, and how a… With bitter yellow berries, and a… New love, new love, shall I be fo…

Into love and out again, Thus I went, and thus I go. Spare your voice, and hold your pe… Well and bitterly I know All the songs were ever sung,

Tonight my love is sleeping cold Where none may see and none shall… The daisies quicken in the mold, And richer fares the meadow grass. The warding cypress pleads the ski…

The things she knew, let her forge… The voices in the sky, the fear, t… The gaping shepherds, and the quee… Piling their clumsy gifts of forei… Let her have laughter with her lit…

They say He was a serious child, And quiet in His ways; They say the gentlest lady smiled To hear the neighbors’ praise. The coffers of her heart would clo…

Oh, lead me to a quiet cell Where never footfall rankles, And bar the window passing well, And gyve my wrists and ankles. Oh, wrap my eyes with linen fair,