Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK ONE

* LX
THE HARE ATND THE LIONS
THOUGH yOU may pass, Miss Hare, within his jaw,
The lion thinks no flesh is in his maw.
Where is your back, and where those shoulders round,
Wherein the bullock feels the deep-struck wound?
Why tease in empty sport the forest lord?
He picks the beast that shall his meal afford.
LXI
THE CATALOGUE OF POETS
WELL doth Verona love her poet-seer,
To Virgil's sacred name doth Mantua thrill,
And though she deems Stella and Livy dear
Apona holds her Flaccus dearer still.
To Nile that waters Egypt's rainless coast
Apollodorus hath his lustre lent.
Two Senecas are proud Cordova's boast
With Lucan peerless and pre-eminent.
Cadiz the gay delights in Canius' name
Augusta doth with Decian's glory shine;
So too our Bilbilis shall tell your fame
One day, my friend, and haply whisper mine.
LXII
A CHANGE OF CLII.MATE
LAEVINA was a stricter prude
Than Sabine dames of old,
And e'en her husband's rigorous mood
Was not a whit more cold.
Alas, to bathe she loved to go
And thus was she undone,
'For Tunbridge Wells enhanced the woe
That Cheltenham had begun.
'Twas there she felt the amorous flame,
And fled with gallant gay:
So 'twas Penelope that came,
But Helen went away.
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