Martial, : the twelve books of Epigrams,.

MARTIAL'S EPIGRAMS

If you think that such conduct is merely a jest,
You're mistaken, my innocent ' brother.'
When a mother as ' sister' would fain be addressed,
She is neither the one nor the other.
V
TO DECIANUS
To pass my days and nights with you,
That were my lot if I might choose it.
I pledge my life this word is trueAlas, that fortune should refuse it.
I dwell two weary miles away,
The homeward road my toil will double,
And all the while I know I may
Have but the journey for my trouble.
For when I come, you are not there,
At least I may not come anigh you;
Or I am told that public care
Or private matters occupy you.
I would not grudge two miles and more
To greet my friend and sit beside him:
'Tis weary work to travel four
And, after all, to be denied him.
VI
TO SE IVER US
'PUBLISH soon,' you used to say,
And pretend
That you could not bear delay,
Eager friend;
Now your taste can hardly brook
Just two pages of my book,
Ere you yawn, and turn to look
At the end.
Yet its verses are not new
And unknown,
All the duller ones to you
I had shown;
Then how carefully you'd note them,
In your pocket-book you wrote them,
With intent, perhaps, to quote them
As your own.
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