Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS

So might some bawling pedant cite thee-one
Whom generous youth and ripening maiden hateOn swelling themes let prigs and dullards prate
Whose toil the midnight lamp sees yet undone.
Season With native salt thy merry lay,
Show Rome her very self in word and deed,
And so the piping of thy slender reed
Shall sound when clarion blasts have died away.'
* IV
TO DOMIITIAN WITH THE NEW YEAR
Lo, the whole universe performs her vow,
And at thy altars makes her offering now.
The joy of men, methinks, doth not suffice
The gods themselves to thee make sacrifice.
V
SQUANDERED WEALTH
You spent so much on rings for many a fair one,
That now, a Knight no more, you may not wear one.
* VI
ANTIQUES
OLD Auctius is really a terrible bore
With his pedigree plate: I would rather he'd pour
The wine from cheap ware, for he tells such a tale
About every piece that the liquor goes stale' Laomedon once owned this goblet, my boy:
To get it Apollo with music built Troy.With this cup fierce Rhoetus engaged in the fray,
Against the Lapiths: it's still dinted to-dayThese beakers their value from Nestor derive,
He rubbed that dove smooth with his hand when ali\veIn this bowl Achilles was wont for his friends
To mix a strong dose of his choicest old blendsFrom this mug fair Dido did Bitias plight,
When she gave the repast to Aeneas that night'So he goes on: each tankard of old Priam smacks;
But you'll find that the wine is young Astyanax.
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