His book of poems, 116 in number, was dedicated to Cornelius Nepos. Their subjects are as various as the metres in which they are written, for they reflect the passing emotions of the poet, now lighted with gayety, now clouded with sorrow, anon ablaze with love. Among the other pieces of Catullus must be mentioned his cutting satires, in which even Cæsar was not spared; his exquisite _epithalamia_, or marriage-hymns; and the “Atys,” a weird poem remarkable for its metrical effects. Our poet’s lyric powers may be further judged of by the following ELEGY ON LESBIA’S SPARROW. “Loves and Graces, mourn with me, Mourn, fair youths, where’er ye be! Dead my Lesbia’s sparrow is, Sparrow, that was all her bliss, Than her very eyes more dear; For he made her dainty cheer, Knew her well, as any maid Knows her mother, never strayed From her lap, but still would go Hopping round her to and fro, And to her, and her alone, Chirrup’d with such pretty tone. Now he treads that gloomy track, Whence none ever may come back. Out upon you, and your power, Which all fairest things devour, Orcus’ gloomy shades, that e’er Ye should take my bird so fair! Oh! poor bird! Oh! dismal shades! Yours the blame is, that my maid’s Eyes, dear eyes! are swoll’n and red, Weeping for her darling dead.” THEODORE MARTIN. POETRY OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. As prose reached its highest development in the last years of the Republic, so many causes contributed to perfect Latin verse in the reign of the first Roman emperor, Augustus. Secured upon the throne by his triumph at Actium (31 B.C.), Augustus pursued a conciliatory course, with a view to winning the love of his subjects, and he was eminently successful. All classes, tired of civil war and its attendant proscriptions and massacres, hailed with delight the return of peace; and under the patronage of the emperor, seconded by his minister Mæcenas, poetry revived. Augustus was as fortunate in finding at Rome a number of youthful poets, many of them in humble circumstances and of provincial origin, as in the possession of a minister who could appreciate and foster their talents. Mæcenas knew the value of genius too well to let it die of neglect; and his name, as the patron of art and letters, has passed into a proverb. His luxurious gardens were the haunt of poets and savants, and round his sumptuous table sat an inspired circle who poured their grateful tributes into the ears of their master and his. Thus the munificence of Augustus and Mæcenas, themselves both critics and writers, combined with the political quiet that gave leisure for literary pursuits, to make their period the golden age of poetry. Prose, on the other hand, declined. Political eloquence was powerless in the face of despotism; while the veracious historian must needs tread a dangerous path, or seal his lips.