Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK FIVE

* I
TO DOMITIAN
WHETHER on Alba's hills, great sire, thou be,
And hence Diana, thence fair Thetis, see;
Or where near Rome the Ocean's levels sleep,
The fateful sisters do thy answers keep;
Whether green Circe, the sun's fairest child,
Or great Aeneas' nurse holds thee beguiled,
Or gleaming Anxur with health-giving streamI send this book to thee, whose life we deem
By grateful Jove is guarded to the end,
Our country's saviour, helper, keeper, friend.
Receive it, sire; then I'll be satisfied
And think you read it, in my Gallic pride.
II
THE VIRTUOUS PRINCE
Boys, matrons, gentle maids, for you
This modest little book is fit;
My earlier pages search anew,
Ye that rejoice in wanton wit,
But this for Caesar's eye was writ,
And dare not face a sovereign's frown;
He shall not blush reciting it
Before the maid of Cecrops' Town.
III
A NEARER GOD
AFAR from Ister's subject tide
That laves his Dacian home,
The envoy Degis dwells beside
The royal stream of Rome;
The guardian of the world he saw,
Then turned he wondering,
Inspired with joy and raptured awe,
And hailed his absent king' Brother, the fates have favoured me,
Born 'neath a happy star;
For close at hand the God I see
You worship from afar.'
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