nightly the soul is awake:
Well-contented am I, that thou thy friendship avowest,
Ask'st the delights of love from me, the pleasure of hymns; 10
Yet lest all unnoted a kindred story bely thee,
Deeming, Mallius, I calls of humanity shun;
Hear what a grief is mine, what storm of destiny whelms me.
Cease to demand of a soul's misery joy's sacrifice.

Once, what time white robes of manhood first did array me, 15
Whiles in jollity life sported a spring holiday,
Youth ran riot enow; right well she knows me, the Goddess,
She whose honey delights blend with a bitter annoy.
Henceforth dies sweet pleasure, in anguish lost of a brother's
Funeral. O poor soul, brother, O heavily ta'en, 20
You all happier hours, you, dying brother, effaced;
All our house lies low mournfully buried in you;
Quench'd untimely with you joy waits not ever a morrow,
Joy which alive your love's bounty fed hour upon hour;
Now, since thou liest dead, heart-banish'd wholly desert me 25
Vanities all, each gay freak of a riotous heart.

How then obey? You write 'Let not Verona, Catullus,
Stay thee, if here each proud quality, Rome's eminence,
Freely the light limbs warms thou leavest coldly to languish,'
Infamy lies not there, Mallius, only regret. 30
So forgive me, if I, whom grief so rudely bereaveth,
Deal not a joy myself know not, a beggar in all.
Books--if they're but scanty, a store full meagre, around me,
Rome is alone my life's centre, a mansion of home,
Rome my abode, house, hearth; there wanes and waxes a life's span; 35
Hither of all those choice cases attends me but one.
Therefore deem not thou aught spiteful bids me deny thee;
Say not 'his heart is false, haply, to jealousy leans,'
If nor books I send nor flatter sorrow to silence.
Trust me, were either mine, either unask'd should appear. 40

Goddesses, hide I may not in how great trial upheld me
Allius, how no faint charities held me to life.
Nor shall time borne fleetly nor years' oblivion ever
Make such zeal to the night fade, to the darkness, away.
As from me you learn it, of you shall many a thousand 45
Learn it again. Grow old, scroll, to declare it anew.
. . .