Catullus, Carmina lxxvi. (Si qua recordanti).
Reading edition
“If pleasure can to man have come From his good deeds already done, From sacred faith, from plight maintained, From compact never yet profaned; All these remain in store for thee And fruits of thy lost love shall be. Catullus, for long years to come Thy breast shall be their only home!” * * * * O gods, if ye can pity me Or mortal agony can see, If only once I have been pure, Tear out this cursed plague impure, Which creeping through my frame at rest Has chased all gladness from my breast. * * * * Just gods! for sake of my own weal I pray you that this wound may heal!