ROW us out from Desenzano, to your Sirmione row! So they row'd, and there we landed -- 'O venusta Sirmio!' There to me thro' all the groves of olive in the summer glow, There beneath the Roman ruin where the purple flowers grow, Came that 'Ave atque Vale' of the Poet's hopeless woe, Tenderest of Roman poets nineteen hundred years ago, 'Frater Ave atque Vale'-- as we wander'd to and fro Gazing at the Lydian laughter of the Garda Lake below Sweet Catullus's all-but-island, olive-silvery Sirmio! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PORTRAIT OF A BOY by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN IN DISPRAISE OF THE MOON by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE LINES TO WILLIAM LINLEY WHILE HE SANG A SONG TO PURCELL'S MUSIC by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE HE'D BE NOTHING BUT HIS VIOLIN by MARY KYLE DALLAS CROSSING THE PLAINS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1883 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE INCHCAPE ROCK by ROBERT SOUTHEY EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 30. THE HUNTER CAUGHT BY HIS OWN GAMER by PHILIP AYRES |