Explore "HORACE IN LOVE AGAIN. (Epode XI.)" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Dear Pettius, once I reeled off rhyme / Satiric, sad and tender, / But now my quill / Has lost its skill / And I am dying in my prime / Through love of female gender! / Nay, do not laugh / Nor deign to chaff / Your friend with taunts of Lyde / And other dames / Who've been my flames -- / _This_ time it's bona-fide!
I maunder sadly to and fro -- / I who was once so jolly! / My old time chums / Gyrate their thumbs / And taunt me, as I sighing go, / With what they term my folly.
I told you once, / Lake a garrulous dunce, / Of my all consuming passion, / And I rolled my eyes / In tragedy wise / And raved in lovesick fashion.
And when I'd aired my woes profound / You volunteered this warning: / "Horace, go light / On the bowl to-night -- / Ten hours of sleep will bring you round / All right to-morrow morning! " / Now ten hours sleep / May do a heap / For callow hearts a-patter, / But I tell you, sir, / This affair du coeur / Of _mine_ is a serious matter!