Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK TEN
LXXXV
A PARADOX
AN ancient boatman bought a plot of ground
Beside the stream where he had plied his calling,
But Tiber's winter flood rose quickly round
The field, and threatened ruin most appalling;
And so with stones he filled his useless boat
Which, now a dam, averted inundation.
Strange miracle! a craft that would not float
Has proved a troubled mariner's salvation!
LXXXVI
THE ARCHER
YOUNG Laurus with unerring aim
Strove eagerly to capture fame.
So much he loved the butts that he,
Old and retired, a butt must be!
LXXXVII
ON THE BIRTHDAY OF RESTITUTUS
THY pious duty Rome fulfil,
In prayer and silence greet the morn,
Ye wrangling courts, your clamour still,
To-day your orator was born;
The trash a pauper client lays
Before his lord for offering
May wait for Saturn's merry days,
Ye rich, your choicest treasure bring;
Proud huckster from Agrippa's street
Send him a cloak of Tyrian hue,
Gay reveller, a robe should greet
The counsel who defended you.
Oh wronged but now triumphant dame,
Bring gems to him, no glittering paste;
And, antiquary, he doth claim
Silver that Phidias' chisel chased;
From hind or hunter, kid or hare,
From fisher, treasure of the sea,
If each a fitting gift must bear,
What should the poet's offering be?
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