University of Virginia Library


44

OUT OF CATULLUS.

Lisbia let us Live and Love,
All our little time improve;
Mirth and Pleasure crown our daies,
Spite of what the Dotard says,
If the Suns may set, they rise
Bright again, and gild the Skies.
But our Day depriv'd of Light,
Sleep succeeds, and endless night,
An Hundred, now a Thousand more,
Another hundred warm and close,
Another thousand, press 'em thus;
Give me kisses, I am poor,

45

When the thousands num'rous grow,
Kiss again that none may know
What you lend, or what I owe,
While I in gross with hast repay,
And kiss Eternity away.