Classic Poem

When we can sound the ocean from the beach,
Counting how oft the waves rise and return,
Then from thy words, Catulus, we may learn
All thy heart surging on the bounds of speech.
What swift design the lightning-fork would teach,
The startled eye not wholly can discern;
So into sudden words thy sorows burn,
So darkness has them back beyond our reach.

Had thy love waned, clear were its history;
After the tide the cliff informs the skies
How the majestic waters scarred the stone;
But thou from life passed to proud mystery,
As when a rose escapes the praise of eyes
And all night long blooms to itself alone.