Miser Catulle &c. 
Fond Catullus! cease to grieve
What is lost, esteem as lost.
Never can regrets retrieve
Pleasures which thy fates have crost.
Brilliant shone the star of day,5
Smiling o'er thy happy hours,
When beneath thy Lesbia's sway,
Love diverted all thy powers.
Loving more than youth e'er lov'd,
Once adored! I sure may say10
O'er the joys we both have prov'd,
Brilliant shine the star of day!
But she joys in thee no more,
Bid the false one then Adieu!
Wretched fool! at length give o'er15
Her, who flies thee, to pursue.
But no more thy love desiring,
See me changed, thy scorn forbear!
Nothing now from thee requiring,
Hard of heart, and false as fair!20
Yet I know, regret will oft
Stain thy cheeks with tears for me,
When recalled in moments soft,
There our pleasures past shalt see.
When no more thy slave returning25
Dwells enraptured on thy charms,
Who with equal transports burning
E'er shall seek thy circling arms?
Thou who know'st so well the pleasure
Of the fond, impassion'd sigh,30
Thou wilt mourn thy slighted treasure,
What can love like mine supply?
Yes, I know that soon relenting,
Scorn for scorn she shall receive,
But thy fate no more lamenting,35
Fond Catullus, cease to grief!