As diddest thou:—yet is Woman multivolent still.
But thou 'vailedest alone all these to conquer in love-lowe,
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When conjoinèd once more unto thy yellow-haired spouse.
Worthy of yielding to her in naught or ever so little
Came to the bosom of us she, the fair light of my life,
Round whom fluttering oft the Love-God hither and thither
Shone with a candid sheen robed in his safflower dress.
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She though never she bide with one Catullus contented,