Carmen L (Cornish)

Yesterday, Licinius, we made holiday and played many a game with my tablets, as we had agreed to take our pleasure. Each of us pleased his fancy in writing verses, now in one metre, now in another, answering each other, while we laughed and drank our wine. I came away from this so fired by your wit and fun, Licinius, that food did not ease my pain, nor sleep spread rest over my eyes, but restless and fevered I tossed about all over my bed, longing to see the dawn, that I might talk to you and be with you. But when my limbs were worn out with fatigue and lay half dead on my couch, I made this poem for you, my sweet friend, that from it you might learn my suffering. Now be not too proud, and do not, I pray you, apple of my eye, do not reject my prayers, lest Nemesis demand penalties from you in turn. She is an imperious goddess—beware of offending her.