Even when one comes to them fresh from Virgil, lines like these open a new world of sound. The Greek elegiac, as it is known to us by the finest work of the epigrammatists, had an almost unequalled flexibility and elasticity of rhythm; this quality Propertius from the first seized, and all but made his own. By what course of reasoning he was led in his later work to suppress this large and elastic treatment, and approximate more and more closely to the fine but somewhat limited and metallic rhythm which has been perpetuated by the usage of Ovid, we cannot guess. In this first book he ends the pentameter freely with words of three, four, and five syllables; the monotony of the perpetual disyllabic termination, which afterwards became the normal usage, is hardly compensated by the increased smoothness which it gives the verse. But this new power of versification accompanied a new spirit even more remarkable, which is of profound import as the precursor of a whole school of modern European poetry. The _Cynthia_ is the first appearance in literature of the neurotic young man, who reappeared last century in Rousseau's _Confessions_ and Goethe's _Werther,_ and who has dominated French literature so largely since Alfred de Musset. The way had been shown half a century before by that remarkable poet, Meleager of Gadara, whom Propertius had obviously studied with keen appreciation. Phrases in the _Cynthia_, like-- _Tum mihi constantis deiecit lumina fastus Et caput impositis pressit Amor pedibus,_ or-- _Qui non ante patet donec manus attigit ossa,_ are in the essential spirit of Meleager, and, though not verbally copied from him, have the precise quality of his rhythms and turns of phrase. But the abandonment to sensibility, the absorption in self-pity and the sentiment of passion, are carried by Propertius to a far greater length. The abasement of a line like-- Sis quodcunque voles, non aliena tamen,_ is in the strongest possible contrast to that powerful passion which fills the poetry of Catullus, or to the romantic tenderness of the _Eclogues_; and in the extraordinary couplet-- _Me sine, quem semper voluit fortuna iacere, Hanc animam extremae reddere nequitiae,_ "the expense of spirit in a waste of shame" reaches its culminating point. This tremulous self-absorption, rather than any defect of eye or imagination, is the reason of the extraordinary lapses which now and then he makes both in description and in sentiment. The vivid and picturesque sketches he gives of fashionable life at watering-places and country- houses in the eleventh and fourteenth elegies, or single touches, like that in the remarkable couplet-- _Me mediae noctes, me sidera prona iacentem, Frigidaque Eoo me dolet aura gelu,_