Classic Poem

Like some god appears to me,
More than god! if it be meet,
Him, who, seated facing thee,
Sees, and hears thy laughter sweet.

This from me, a wretch subdu'd,
Ravish'd ev'ry sense away:
For thee, Lesbia, as I view'd;
Nought my torpid tongue could say;

Mute it grows——my limbs around
Subtile fire with swiftness spreads;
Ring mine ears with their own sound;
All mine eyes a night o'ershades.

Sloth, Catullus, is thy bane,
Sloth too wantonly enjoy'd!
Sloth has oft the monarch's reign,
Prosp'rous cities has destroy'd.