Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS
I seem not made of wood, so clear I'm shown;
Nor shall my emblem to the fire be thrown.
For look, this cypress phallus deathless stands,
As though it came from Phidias' own hands.
So, neighbours, to Priapus' honour pay,
And from these fourteen acres keep away.
* LXXIV
THE TOOTHLESS GUEST
THOUGH the three hairs he's left make smooth paths
on his pate,
And he takes the best place at the table,
And uses a toothpick; it's not what he ate.
He's no teeth and to bite is not able.
* LXXV
TO PONTIA
A THRUSH, and a cake, and a leg of a hare,
You send me, most delicate food you declare.
I won't give them away; they shall stay on my shelf.
But-I don't think somehow I shall eat them myself.
* LXXVI
ON A ROM-AN TOM.1B IN DACIA
HERE Fuscus lies, who did our Emperor guard
And in the Palace keep his civic ward.
Yet this at least is granted him by Fate;
His tombstone need not fear the foemen's hate.
For now the Dacians to our empire bow
And as their lord the victor's shade allow.
* LXXVII
TO AFER
YOU'RE as poor as a church-mouse, as strong as a horse,
As brisk as a prize-fighter full of brute force,
And yet you delight on six shoulders to ride,
In spite of the fact that you're laughed at and guyed
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