Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

BOOK ONE

CV
OLD WINE
THOUGH from Nomentan soil the vintage came,
Yet, as the years rolled on, by slow degrees
With age it changed its character and name;
So old a cask bears any name it please.
CVI
THE SOBER LOVER
You drown with water every cup
And, though your comrades press you,
The feeble draught you hardly sup!
What madness can possess you?
Had Naevia sworn to crown your bliss
To-night, we had excused you;
But since you groan and sigh, by this
We know she has refused you.
Then quaff a cup of fourfold size
And others let us pour you;
To drown your sorrow must be wise,
If only sleep's before you.
CVII
TO LUCIUS JULIUS
'YOUR trifling all is vainl,
Sing me a nobler strain! '
Thus you implore me;
Then grant the ease I crave,
Such as Maecenas gave
To bards before me.
So shall I weave a song
That through the ages long
May never perish;
Nay, for the funeral flame
Cannot consume a fame
That all men cherish.
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