Ad Lauram Publiumque de Morphei fuga.

Dum torquet tussis per noctem, Morpheus haud est:
multo cum strepitu quassantem me cito linquet.
flavet sputum, proluvies mucosa redundat.
“cur me vitas? huc accede o pulcher ephebe,
extemplo faveas nostrisque screatibus adsis.
da nunc amplexus mihi, me fove dulcibus ulnis,
inter bracchia nunc aveo robusta jacere
reclinareque, dum licet, amplo in pectore noctu.
non ita amicitiâ semper conceditur uti:
mox erit atra dies, astabit letifer Orcus.”

Translation
While a cough racks me through the night, Morpheus is absent:
Swiftly he deserts me convulsing amid much hubbub.
My spit grows yellow, a snotty outflowing abounds.

“Why dost thou evade me ? Come hither, o comely youth,
And straightway favour and attend my hawkings-up.
Grant me now thy embraces, cherish me with sweet hugs,
Amid thy robust arms now do I yearn to lie ,
And to lay my head, while ’tis allowed, on thy broad chest by night.
Not so will it be granted us for ever companionship to enjoy :
Soon enough there will come a dark day, when will stand by me death- dealing Orcus.”