Classic Poem

HORACE

Once (even twice) your arms to me would cling,
?Before your heart made various excursions;
And I was happier than the happiest king
Of all the Persians.
LYDIA

So long as I remained your constant flame,
?I was a proud and rather well-sung Lydia,
But now, in spite of all your precious fame,
I'm glad I'm rid o' ye.
HORACE

Ah well, I've Chloë for my present queen.
?Her voice would thrill the marble bust of Caesar;
And I would exit gladly from the scene
If it would please her.
LYDIA

And as for me, with every burning breath,
?I think of Calaïs, my handsome lover,
For him not only would I suffer death,
But die twice over.
HORACE

What if the old love were to come once more
?With smiling face and understanding tacit;
If Chloë went, and I'd unbar the door,
Would you—er—pass it?
LYDIA

Though he's a star that's constant, fair and true,
?And you're as light as cork or wild as fever;
With all your faults I'd live and die with you,
You old deceiver!