Abandoned of false Theseus, weeping stood:--
Our wise Catullus tells the doleful tale
Of love's ingratitude.

Take warning friends! How fortunate is he,
Who learns of others' loss his own to shun!
Trust not caressing arms and sighs, nor be
By flatteries undone!

Though by her own sweet eyes her oath she swear,
By solemn Juno, or by Venus gay,
At oaths of love Jove laughs, and bids the air
Waft the light things away.

It is but folly, then, to fume and fret,
If one light lass that old deception wrought;
O that I too might evermore forget
To speak my heart's true thought!

O that my long, long nights brought peace and thee!
That nought but thee my waking eyes did fill!
Thou wert most false and cruel, woe is me!
False! But I love thee still.

_L'Envoi_

How well fresh water mixes with old wine!
Bacchus loves water-nymphs. Bring water, boy!
What care I where she sleeps? This night of mine
Shall I in sighs employ?