Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS
xxxIV
A GOOD NVEIGHBOUR
APER has bought a ruin foul
Too grimy for the moping owl,
A cunning rogue is he;
Hard by doth wealthy Maro dwell,
So Aper looks to board right well,
Though vile his lodging be.
XXXV
TO FABULLUS
OF all the guests you ask to dine
I know not one, so I decline;
Why should you grumble? 'Tis not rude
To hate a crowded solitude.
XXXVI
TO JULIUS PROCULUS
JULIUS, a pearl should mark the day whereon
Heaven gave you life in answer to my prayer;
Now joy is deeper for the dread that's gone,
Less glad are they who never knew despair;
Hypnus, you sluggard, pour a vintage rare,
This festal day my oldest cask may claim,
And I would quaff and you, my slave, shall share
A draught to every letter of his name.
XXXVII
FETTERS OF GOLD
WHY gird a jewel with a pound of gold?
Poor Sardonyx, 'tis smothered I declare!
Nay, Zoilus, a finger cannot bear
The weight you bore upon your leg of old.
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