Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK FOUR
LII
GESTARI iunctis nisi desinis, Hedyle, capris,
Qui modo ficus eras, iam caprificus eris.
LIII
THE BEGGAR
SEE that old knave by Pallas' shrine,
He lurks there when the weather's fine,
Or favours, if it chance to rain,
The doorway of our nearest fane;
With staff and scrip he lounges there
With ragged beard and matted hair;
That greasy cloak at night is spread,
The only blanket, on his bed.
He snarls and whines to passers-by
Who fling him scraps for charity.
You say, misled by signs like these,
' Some pupil of Diogenes '?
Nay, he is no philosopher,
But less a cynic than a cur.
LIV
TO COLLINUS
THE wreath of honoured oak is on thy brow,
Thine is the noblest prize the Muse can give,
Well was that guerdon merited, but now
If thou be wise, Collinus, learn to live.
Henceforth forget ambition and begin
To live each day as though thou hadst but one;
For who has ever moved the maids that spin
To toil a moment when their task is done?
Were Thrasea's courage there, with Crispus' gold
And Melior's lavish hand, 'twere all in vain;
For Lachesis should never be cajoled,
Thy portion done, to turn the wheel again;
The thread her sisters wove, doth she unwind.
Three are the Fates, and there should ever be
One merciless, inexorable mind
To spurn thy prayer, though two had pitied thee.
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