A source-book of ancient history - The Search For Mecca

—
A Refuge from Care 461
Ke grins.— If, at a pile, the duteous son,
The childless mother weeps, for ever gone.
He grins.—In short, whate'er the time or place,
Do as he may, the grin still marks his face:
'Tis his disease; and speaking as I feel,
I cannot call it decent or genteel.
Catullus, 39.
(A funeral
pile.)
To My Farm
(Complaining of Sextius' Trashy Oration)
Whether, my farm, the Sabine bounds
Or Tibur hold thy peaceful grounds;
—For those who love me like a friend
Call thee of Tibur; those who come
To vex my pride, with any siun
That thou art Sabine will contend.
"Is my
farm at
Tibur or in
Sabina? "
Catullus, 44.
But whether that, or truly classed
'Mong Tibur's lands, well pleased I've passed
Some days in thy sequestered seat.
Thou from my loaded breast hast driven
A cough my stomach's sins had given,
Deserv'ed by many a costly treat.
And when I plainly hoped to feed
As Sextius' guest, my host would read
His speech 'gainst Attius, made of old.
'Twas full of poison and disease;
It made me shiver, made me sneeze,
And gave me a bad cough and cold.
"His speech
gave me a
cold. ))
At length I fled into thy breast;
And there with medicine and rest
Have cured myself in little time:
So now in health and spirits gay,
My warmest thanks to thee I pay.
Who thus hast done away my crime.