Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS
Why say more? All fragrant scents,
If you mingle their contents,
Do no more than match the kiss
Of my lover. What is this?
Want to know his name? Ah, well,
Swear that you will never tell.
You say you've sworn already. That won't do.
Methinks, my friend, you want too much to know
IX
ON THE TOMB OF THE ACTOR MIE.IOR
ENNOBLED by the poet's crown,
Memor, the glory of the stage,
Death may not vanquish thy renown,
Art bids thee live from age to age.
X
ON TURNUS, BROTHER OF MIE.IOR
FOR lighter verse is Turnus known,
The tragic bays he would not claim;
Since these had Memor made his own,
He would not mar a brother's fame.
* XI
OLD FASHIONS ARE BEST
OFF with these chaliced bowls from Nile's warm land
And give me, boy, the mug with careless hand
Which once my sires from close-cropped pages took,
That so my board may have its ancient look.
Sardanapallus, drink from jewelled cup,
You who for women's pots broke Mentor up!
340