EHEU FUGACES. What Horace says is, Eheu fugaces Anni labuntur, Postume, Postume! Years glide away, and are lost to me, lost to me! Now, when the folks in the dance sport their merry toes, Taglionis and Ellslers, Duvernays and Ceritos, Sighing I murmur, "O mihi prÆteritos!" |