  Old friends the most. W. B. Y. ITo one, on returning certain years after. You wore the same quite correct clothing, You took no pleasure at all in my triumphs, You had the same old air of condescension Mingled with a curious fear That I, myself, might have enjoyed them. Te voilÀ, mon Bourrienne, you also shall be immortal. IITo another. And we say good-bye to you also, For you seem never to have discovered That your relationship is wholly parasitic; Yet to our feasts you bring neither Wit, nor good spirits, nor the pleasing attitudes Of discipleship. IIIBut you, bos amic, we keep on, For to you we owe a real debt: In spite of your obvious flaws, You once discovered a moderate chop-house. IVIste fuit vir incultus, Deo laus, quod est sepultus, Vermes habent eius vultum A-a-a-a—A-men. Ego autem jovialis Gaudero contubernalis Cum jocunda femina. |
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