count of himself, that be is endeavouring, by | Live on thy annual income; spend thy store;
little and little, to wear off his vices; and par- And freely grind, from thy full threshing-foot ;
ticularly, that he is combating ambition, and Next harvest promises as much, or more.
the desire of wealth. He dwells upon the latter Thus I would live : but friendship’s holy band,
vice : and, being sensible that few men either And offices of kindness, hold my hand :
desire or use riches as they ought, he endca- My friend is shipwreck'd on the Brutian strand,
vours to convince them of their folly ; which His riches in th’ Ionian main are lost,
is the main design of the whole satire.

And he himself stands shivering on the coast;
Where, destitute of help, forlorn and bare,
He wearies the deaf gods with fruitless prayer.

Their images, the relics of the wreck,

Torn from the naked poop, are tided back

By the wild waves, and, rudely thrown ashore, TO CÆSIUS BASSUS, A LYRIC POET.

Lie impotent; nor cau themselves restore.

The vessel sticks,and shows her open'd side, (ride. Has winter caus'd thee, friend, to change thy And on her shatter'd masts the mews in triumph And seek in Sabine air a warm retreat ? (seat, From thy new hope, and from thy growing store, Say, dost thou get the Roman harp command ? Now lend assistance, and relieve the poor. Do the strings answer to thy noble hand ?

Come ; do a noble act of charity; Great master of the Muse, inspir'd to sing A pittance of thy land will set him free. The beauties of the first-created spring ;

Let him not bear the badges of a wreck, The pedigree of nature to rehcarse,

Nor beg with a blue table on his back : And sound the Maker's work, in equal verse.

Nor tell me that thy frowning heir will say, Now sporting on thy lyre the loves of youth,

“ 'Tis mine that wealth thou squander'st thas Now virtuous age, and venerable truth;

What is 't to thee, if he neglect thy urn, (away; Expressing justly Sappho's wanton art

Or without spices lets thy body burn? Of odes, and Pindar's more majestic part. If odours to thy ashes he refuse,

For me, my warmer constitution wants Or huys corrupted cassia from the Jews ?” More cold, than our Ligurian winter grants; All these,” the wiser Bestius will reply, And therefore, to my native shores retir’d, “Are empty pomp, and dead men's luxury: I view the coast old Ennius once aılmir'd; We never knew this vain expense, before Where cliffs on either sides their points display ; Th’effeminated Grecians brought it o'er: And, after, opening in an ampler way,

Now toys and trifles from their Athens come; Afford the pleasing prospect of the bay.

And dates and pepper have unsiuew'd Rome. 'Tis worth your while, O Romans, to regard Our sweating hinds their sallads, now, detile, The port of Luna,” says our learned bard; Infecting homely herbs with fragrant oil. Who in a drunken dream beheld his soul

But to thy fortune be not thou a slave: The fifth within the transmigrating roll;

For what hast thou to fear beyond the grave? Which first a peacock, then Euphorbus was, And thou who gap'st for my estate, draw near; Then Homer next, and next Pythagoras;

For I would whisper somewhat in thy ear. [come, And last of all the line did into Envius pass.

Hear'st thou the neus, my friend th' express is Secure and free from business of the state,

With laureld letters from the camp to Rome? And more secure of what the vulgar prate, Cæsar salutes the queen and senate thus : Here I enjoy my private thoughts ; nor care My arms are on the Rhine victorious. What rots for sheep the southern winds prepare : From mourning altars sweep the dust away: Survey the neighbouring fields, and not repine, Cease fasting, and proclaim a fat thanksgiving day.' When I behold a larger crop than mine :

The goodly empress, jollily inclin'd, To see a beggar's brat in riches flow,

Is to the welcome bearer wondrous kind : Adds not a wrinkle to my even brow;

And setting ber good housewifery aside, Nor, envious at the sight, will I forbear

Prepares for all the pageantry of pride. My plenteous bowl, nor bate my bounteous cheer. The captive Gerinans, of gigantic size, Nor yet unseal the dregs of wine that stink Are rank'd in order, and are clad in frize : Of cask ; nor in a nasty flaggon drink;

The spoils of kings and conquer'd camps we boast, Let others stuff their guts with homely fare ; Their arms in trophies hang on the triumphal posta For men of different inclinations are ;

“Now, for so many glorious actions done Though born perhaps beneath one common star. In foreign parts, and mighty battles won : In minds and manners twins oppos'd we see For peace at home, and for the public wealth, In the same sign, almost the same degree : I mean to crown a bowl to Cæsar's bealth : One, frugal on his birth-day fears to dine,

Besides, in gratitude for such high matters, Does at a penny's cost in herbs repine,

Know I have vow'd two hundred gladiators. And hardly dares to dip his fingers in the brine. Say, would'st thou hinder me from this expense ; Prepar'd as priest of his own rites to stand, I disinherit thee, if thou dar'st take offence. He sprinkles pepper with a sparing hand.

Yet more, a public largess I design His jolly brother, opposite in sense,

Of oil and pies, to make the people dine : Laughs at his thrift; and, lavish of expense, Control me not, for fear I change my will. Quaffs, crams, and guttles, in his own defence. And yet methinks I hear thee grumbling still,

For me, I'll use my own; and take my share ; You give as if you were the Persian king : Yet will not turbots for my slaves prepare;

Your land does not so large revenues bring.' Nor be so nice in taste myself to buow

Well; on my terms thou wilt not be my heir ! If what I swallo: be a thrush, or no

If thou car'st little, less shall be my care :

Were none of all my father's sisters left:

“Nor tell me, in a dying father's tone, Nay, were 1 of my mother's kin bereft:

Be careful still of the main chancc, ny son; None by an uncle's or a grandame's side,

Put out thy principal in trusty hands : Yet I could some adopted heir provide.

Live on the use; and never dip thy lands :' I need but take my journey half a day

“But yet what's left for me is a Wbat's left, my From hanghty Rome, and at Aricia stay,

Ask that again, and all the rest I spend. [friend ! Where fortune throws poor Manius in my way. Is not my fortunes at my own command ? Him will I choose :” “ What! himn of humble birth, Pour oil, and pour it with a plenteous hand, Obscure, a foundling, and a son of earth ?” Upon my sallads, boy: shall I be fed Obscure? Why pr’ythee what am I? I know With sodden nettles, and a sing'd sow's head? My father, grandsire, and great grandsire too. "Tis holiday; provide me better cheer; If farther I derire my pedigree,

'Tis boliday, and shall be round the year. I can but guess beyond the fourth degree.

Shall I my honsehold gods and genius cheat, The rest of nty forgotten ancestors

To make hiin rich, who grudges me my meat? Were sons of earth, like him, or sons of whores. That he may loll at ease; and, pamper'd high, " Yet, why would'st thou, old covetous wretch, When I am laid, may feed on giblet-pie? aspire

And, when his throbbing lust extends the vein, To be my heir, who might'st have been my sire? Have wherewithal bis whores to entertain? In Nature's race, should'st thou demand of me Shall I in homespun cloth be clad, that he My torch, when I in course run after thee? His paunch in triumph may before him see? Think I approach thee, like the god of gain, “Go, miser, go ; for lucre sell thy soul ; With wings on head and hcels, as poets feign : Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to Thy moderate fortune from my gift receive ;

pole : Now fairly take it, or as fairly leave.

That men may say, when thou art dead and gone, But take it as it is, and ask no more.

See what a vast estate he left his son ! " What, when thou hast embezzled all thy store ? How large a family of brawny knaves, Where's all thy father left?” “ 'Tis true, I grant, Well fed, and fat as Cappadocian slaves ! Some I have mortgag'd, to supply my want: Increase thy wealth, and double all thy store; The legacies of Tadius too are town;

'Tis done; now double that, and swell the score; All spent, and on the self-same errand gone. To every thousand add ten thousand more. “ How little then to my poor share will fall !” Then say, Chrysippus, thou who would’st confine Little indeed; but yet that little's all

Thy heap, where I shall put an end to mine."





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