Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK ONE

As thou, for hounds a fitting prey,
His hunger canst not satisfy,
So Caesar's might doth turn away
And pass the Dacian stripling by.
* XXIII
BOON COMPANIONS
IF you would feast at Cotta's board,
The baths your only chance afford
To get an invitation.
I never yet with him have dined.
My naked charms do not, I find,
Excite his admiration.
XXIV
TO DECIANUS
To look on yonder fellow's brow austere
And shaggy locks might fill the soul with fear,
But hear him speak and you would surely say,
'The Curius or Camillus of to-day.'
Trust not to looks, they are a treacherous guide;
But yesterday one took him for a bride!
XXV
TO FA USTINUS
PUBLISH your works-too long have you forborneLet not your polished work in darkness lie;
'Tis such as Cecrops' city should not scorn,
Nor Rome's ripe scholars pass in silence by.
Nay, doth it irk you that reward is nigh?
Why bar out fame who standeth at the gate?
Give birth to what must live, before you die,
For honour paid to ashes comes too late.
XXVI
TO SEXTILIANUS
ALL the seats to knights allotted
Cannot vie with you, I think;
At this rate you'd be besotted
E'en if water were your drink.
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