THROUGH many peoples borne, and tossed o'er many a sea,
I come, my brother, to your lonely tomb,
To pay last honours, though they empty be,
And sadly to address thy ashes dumb.
Thy living self cruel chance away has ta'en.
O dearest brother, ever lost to me,
Still let me pay, in the accustomed strain,
The last sad office that is due to thee.
The salt tears from my eyes unbidden well.
God bless you! brother, and so fare you well.
AD LESBIAM.CAN you ask how many kisses are enough to satisfy me? You would find them, charming Lesbia, if you only cared to try me.
Many as the Libyan sands,
In those perfume-laden lands
Where the oracle of Jove is,