(After Catullus, the Roman lyrical poet)
To me he seems a god, no less,
Who on the headland pensive stands,
More than a god, let me confess,
To see those sands.
Those gaily-peopled stretches that he views;
But, Douglas, when on you I gaze,
The vision doth so much bemuse
I’m in a daze.
My tongue is dumb; a subtle joy
Flows through my heart; to common sound
My ears are deaf; my eyes employ
Treasure new found.
To you, Catullus, Roman shores
And purpled isles gave much delight;
Here would I gaze, my heaven, not yours,
Equally right !
Weekly Times 28.7.61