Classic Poem

A POET'S SUPPER .

Soon shalt thou feast, Fabullus mine,
At my house — should the gods incline —
If thou wilt only fetch with thee
A good big generous dinner — see?
And bring a lively girl and wine
And salt of wit and gayety.
If all these things thou 'lt bring or send
Thou shalt feast well, my charming friend!
For thy Catullus' fortune ebbs:
His face is full of spiders' webs.
But thou shalt have — and this is fair —
Love unadulterate, no end,
Or something still more rich and rare:
With thee an unguent I will share
Which Venuses and Cupids blend
For my dear girl! When she bestows
This sweetness on thee and it glows
On thy olfactories, thou wilt pray
The Gods, Fabullus: " From this day
Oh, make me nothing but a nose! "