Lesbia, thou didst swear thou knewest only Catullus,
Cared'st not, if him thine arms chained, a Jove to retain.
Then not alone I loved thee, as each light lover a mistress,
Lov'd as a father his own sons, or an heir to the name.
Now I know thee aright; so, if more hotly desiring, 5
Yet must count thee a soul cheaper, a frailty to scorn.
'Friend,' thou say'st, 'you cannot.' Alas! such injury leaveth
Blindly to doat poor love's folly, malignly to will.