Why hast thou nothing in thy face? …
Robert Bridges
I love all beauteous things, …
When men were all asleep the snow came flying, …
The south-wind strengthens to a gale, …
Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee, …
Love not too much. But how, …
The evening darkens over …
from Book I, Introduction …
Would that you were alive today, Catullus! …