Catullus' Ode to His Brother

By ways remote and distant waters sped,
Brother, to thy sad grave-side am I come,
That I may give the last gifts to the dead
And vainly parley with thine ashes dumb;
Since she who now bestows and now denies
Hath taken thee, hapless brother, from mine eyes.

But lo! These gifts, the heirlooms of past years,
Are made sad things to grace thy coflin-shell,
Take them, all drenched with a brother's tears,
And, brother, for all time, hail and farewell.