LXXII. TO LESBIA, IN DOUBT
You used to say, oh, long ago!
The only man you wished to know
Was your Catullus; that your grace
Would never yield to Jove's embrace.
I loved you then, not as a lover,
But as a parent may discover
Love for his sons or sons-in-law;
I now know what in times before
I did not know. My passion's flame
Flares up more wildly. All the same,
You poor, deluded, worthless thing,
Of you I cannot help but sing!
And why? Such treatment fans the fire
Of passion, but it chills desire!