The elegies of Tibullus are less learned than those of his contemporaries. They contain many mythological allusions, but these are simply expressed and do not form too large a part of the poems. The sentiments expressed are not virile or powerful, but gentle and pensive. Tibullus loves the life of the country and hates war; he feels deeply the woes that oppress the lover; the thought of death weighs upon him; but love is ever in his heart. His poems are masterpieces of expression and versification, though they lack the fire of passionate emotion. Two brief selections[73] from the third elegy of Book I may give at least some idea of the quality of his sentiment:
While you, Messalla, plough th’ Ægean sea,
O sometimes kindly deign to think of me;
Me, hapless me, Phæacian shores detain,
Unknown, unpitied, and oppressed with pain.
Yet spare me, Death, ah, spare me and retire;
No weeping mother’s here to light my pyre;
Here is no sister, with a sister’s woe,
Rich Syrian odors on the pile to throw;
But chief, my soul’s soft partner is not here,