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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44478	The poems of Horace consisting of odes, satyres, and epistles / rendred in English verse by several persons.; Works. English. 1671	Horace.; Brome, Alexander, 1620-1666.; Fanshawe, Richard, Sir, 1608-1666.; T. H. (Thomas Hawkins), Sir, d. 1640.; Dunstall, John, fl. 1644-1675.; Loggan, David, 1635-1700?	1666 (1666)	Wing H2781; ESTC R43263	170,972	418

keeps thee from getting Gold Onely spurr'd on with that ambitious itch To have the World say Thou art Devilish rich What good in thy vast heap of Treasur's found Which thou by stealth dost bury under ground But if it be diminisht once thou 'lt say Thy whole estate will dwindle soon away ●nd if thou spend'st not out of it what pleasure ●an'st thou take in a heap of hoarded Treasure 〈◊〉 thy Barn held ten thousand sacks of Wheat ●et thou can'st eat no more then I can eat Among thy fellow slaves when thou' rt pickt out To bear all their provision about With which thy Shoulders gall'd and weary grow● Thou eat'st no more then one that carried none Or tell me prithee what the difference is To him that makes the Rules of Nature his Whether he does a thousand Acres sow Or on a hundred does his pains bestow But oh thou cri'st men do great pleasure reap In taking Gripes out of a plenteous heap Yet since out of a little thou dost leave As much as we 've occasion to receive Why should'st thou thy vast Granaries prefer Before our Willies which much lesser are Or if thou hast occasion to take up Water enough to fill a Butt or Cup Why should'st thou say thou hast a greater will Out of that river then this spring to fill Hence it proceeds infallibly that those Who to their wills are superstitious Uncurb'd desire drives them to this and that Until at last they 'ld have they know not what Whilst who confines his mind to Natures laws The troubled muddy water never draws Nor in the river does his life expire But most of men deceiv'd by false desire Say Noughts enough 'cause they absurdly guess At what men are by what they do possess To such a Miser what is 't best to do Let him be wretched ●ince he will be so Thus that Athenian Monster Timon which Hated Man-kind a sordid Knave but rich Was wont to say When ere I walk abroad The People hiss me but I do applaud And hug my self at home when I behold My chests brim-full with Silver and with Gold So Tantalus being extreamly drie Courts the swifte stream which does as coily flie Why laughst thou Miser if thy name should be A little chang'd the Fables told of thee Who on thy full cramb'd Bags together laid Do'st lay thy sleepless and affrighted head And do'st no more the moderate use on 't dare To make then if it consicrated were Thou mak'st no other use of all thy gold Then men do of their pictures to behold Do'st thou no● know the use and power of coyn It buys bread meat and cloaths and what 's more wine With all those necessary things beside W●thout which Nature cannot be suppli'd To sit up and to watch whole dayes and nights To be out of thy wits with constant frights To fear that thieves will steal or fire destroy Or servants take thy wealth and run away Is this delightful to thee then I will Desire to live without those Riches still But if the pains of stomach or the head Or other sickness fix thee to thy bed Hast thou a visitant to sit down by thee Who with due food and Physick will supply thee Or make the D●ctor rid thee of thy pain And to thy friends restore thee sound again Thy wife and children thy quick Death desire So do thy friends and kindred Ne're admire That they don't shew thee love thou merit'st none For before all thou preferr'st wealth alone If thou thy friends or kindred would'st retain And not be liberal thy task 's as vain As his who in the Field does teach an Ass T' obey the bridle and to run a race Make once an end of gaining that the more Thou hast the less thou 'st tremble to be poor Begin to end thy labour having got That which thou didst desire and follow not That rich Umidius whose chests did so swell He measur'd's money which he could not tell So sordid that he never did go higher Then his mean'st Servants did in his attire And to his dying day in fear he stood Least he should die meerly for want of food Till his bold Con●ubine did boldly do A Heroes act and cut the Slave in two But now thou'lt ask me whether I 'de have thee A Miser or a Prodigal to be Thou still art in extreams I would not have Thee covetous nor a vain squandring Knave 'Twixt rough Visellius and smooth Tanais The Eunuch a vast difference there is There is a mean in things and certain lines Within which virtue still it self confines But I 'le return from whence I came are none But greedy Slaves delighted with their own Conditions Do all praise each others lot And pine to see their Neighbours Goat has got A Dug more full of Milk then theirs and ne're Themselves with the poorer sort of men compare Though that 's the greater number but aspire Still to ore-top this man and that whose higher It curbs the Spirit of that person which Tugs to grow great when he meets one more rich So when the Chariots from the Barriers are Let loose to run a Race the Charioter Minds still those horses which out-stript his owne Slighting those which by t'other are ou● gone And hence it comes we seldome find a man That sayes He has liv'd happily and can Like a well-feasted-guest depart at last Contented with that part of 's life that past Now 't is enough least you should think that mine 'S like Crispins Volumns I will not add a line SATYR II. By A. B. That while foolish men shun one Vice they run into another THe Players Empricks Beggars and the noise Of Fidlers all the roaring Damn-me boyes And all that sort of cattel do appear Extreamly sad and much concern'd to hear Their friend Tigillus is deceas'd For he Did treat them with great liberality While the close miser least he should be thought A prodigal o th' contrary gives nought To his dear friend though ne're so much he need To cloath his body or his belly feed If one should ask the Prodigal why he By an ungrateful sottish gluttony That brave estate bequeath'd him by his friends And Ancestors so prodigally spends And at great interest take up money too Meerly in needless luxury to bestow His answer is Because he scorns to be Esteem'd a sordid fellow or that he Has but a narrow soul So up he 's cri'd By some while others him as much deride Fufidius the Usurer fears to have The Reputation of an unthrift Knave Rich both in moneys out at use and lands But when he lends he still detains in 's hands Five times the interest from the principal And where he finds his Debtors prodigal Those he gripes most severely He inquires For wealthy heirs new come of age whose Sires Had been close-fisted to them and severe Good God! what persons who shall come to hear Such horrid actions won't exclaim But oh You 'l say he does

lie thon While you are rich Vile wretch Why wilt notthou Out of thy needless store something allow For thy dear Countries good canst thou suppose Thy fate alone will still be prosperous Oh how thine enemies will laugh at thee When thou' rt reduc'd to want and beggary Which of the two can certainest rely On his own temper in adversity That man whose pamper'd body and his mind Have ever been to luxury inclin'd Or that 's content with little and doth fear What may fall out and wisely does prepare In time of peace things requisite for war Now that you may believe this to be true When I was young I this Offellus knew A man of great Estate yet spent no more Then afterwards when robb'd of all his store A man might see him with his cattle and His children tilling his allotted land And patiently bearing that he is Farmer of that estate which once was his I never durst eat any thing he 'ld say But Caul and Bacon on a working-day But if an ancient friend with me had been Whom a long time before I had not seen Or a good neighbour came to visit me When rainy weather me from work set free I made him welcome not with costly Fish A Pullet or a Lamb serv'd for his dish Dri'd Grapes and Nuts his second Course were made And double Figs were on the Table laid Then after Dinner ' t was our recreation To pass the Grace-cup round on Reputation A health to Ceres that our Corn might grow And smooth'd with wine the wrinckles of our brow Let Fortune rage and raise commotions new Can she make me live meaner Boyes or you For Nature nere appointed him or me Or any else proprietors to be Of our own lands though now the time is his To turn me out yet his unthriftiness Or ignorance of tricks in law or else Who e're survives him him at last expells This Farm which now by Umbrenas name is known Was mine but none can say It is his own 'T is thine and mine and his live bravely then And in all troubles quit your selves like men SATYRE III. By A. B. That every man is in something or other mad DAMASIPPUS and HORACE Dam. THou writ'st so seldome that there does appear Scarce a new Poem from thee twice a year But vainly spend'st thy time in looking o're Those things which thou hast written heretofore I 'm vext at thee that thou do'st thus resign Thy self up to the sway of sleep and wine The Muses negligently laid aside And we of what we so desire deni'd Hor. What would you have me do Dam. Here thou hast been Retir'd ever since Christmas did begin Now thou' rt at leisure let 's have something from thee That may appease our longing and become thee Come strike up man one Verse Hor. No 't will not do Dam. Thou blam'st thy harmless pen nay the wall to Endures thy causeless rage for native guilt 'Cause 't was in spight of Gods or Muses built Thou did'st pretend that if thou once could'st be Out of this Town from noise and business free And to some little Country Vill retire In a mean Cottage by a little ●ire How many admirable lines should we As the effects of thy retirement see Else to what end did'st thou incumber thus Thy self with Eupolis Archilocus Menander Plato and such Books as those If thou 'lt not write at all do'st thou suppose That by declining vertue thou shalt be Protected from the jaws of Calumny Thou wilt be laught at for an Ass come loath Those lewd inchantments of that Syren sloath Else all that honour which about thee shin'd Got by thy exc'lent parts must be resign'd Hor. ' Pox on your too true council Now I pray The Gods to send a man to shave away That formal beard of thine but prithee how Cam'st thou me and my humour thus to know Dam. Since my Estates consum'd I go no more To the Exchange as I did heretofore But having now no business of my own To other men I am a Broker grown In former time I gave my mind to know Whether a statue were well made or no What was well carv'd or painted and what ill And how to fell or buy them I had skill If a rare picture any where I found I would not care to give a thousand pound Gardens and stately houses I could buy And sell to great advantage so that I When I was seen through the City ride Here comes the Purchaser the people cri'd Hor. I know it and I can't but wonder how Thou com'st thus cur'd of that distemper now Dam. I 'le tell you what seems strange and yet 't is true My old disease was driv'n out by my new As in some bodies there is wont to be The Head-ache cured by a Plurisie Or one that has a Lethargy endur'd Grows frantick and beats him by whom he 's cur'd Hor. Be thou as frantick as thou wilt so as Thou wilt not serve me as the Doctor was Dam. Good friend don't cheat thy self ev'n thou art mad And all the world are very near as bad If what Stertinius the Stoick saith 'Mong prudent men does merit any Faith That grave Philosopher at first taught me These admirable precepts and 't was he My Spirits in my great affliction chear'd And will'd me wear this Philosophick beard And from Fabritius Bridge return agen With spirit undisturb'd and calme for when All my Estate was gon I thither went My Cap pluckt o're my eyes with an intent To drown my self I fortunately spi'd That learned Stoick standing by my side What do'st thou mean qd he young man take heed That thou do not an unbecoming deed Thou' rt driven to this by shame that 's very bad Fearing 'mong mad men to be counted mad Consider first what madness is and then If it be in thee and in no other men Go bravely hang or drown thy self for me I 'le never speak a word to hinder thee He who to vitious folly is inclin'd And is by ignorance of truth led blind Is by the Stoick counted out of 's wits This definition all degrees befits All persons nay great Princes every one It comprehends but the wise man alone Nay give me leave and I 'le demonstrate how He who calls thee fool's as much fool as thou Like Trav'lers passing through a Wood when they Range up and down missing their ready way This to the right ' that to the left hand strayes One error fools them both though several wayes And tho thou think'st thou' rt mad yet even he Is not a jot less mad that laughs at thee Both to Fool-coats have like propriety There is one sort of fools that start and quake At the Chymaeras which their fancies make Cries out rocks fire and water him detain When he is onely walking on the plain Another which is full as mad as he Though in his humor he goes contrary Runs through all fire and water ventures life Though Father Mother

he My Daughter must have all whate're it be But being much intreated does peruse The Will at last and after divers views Finds nothing is bequeath'd to him or his But ev'n to hang himself or mourn for this One thing more I would have thee mind where e're Thou of an old rich doating man do'sthear Who 's govern'd by his Serving-man or by His crafty W●nch joyn in society With those and praise them to their Master so To him behind thy back they 'l praise thee too This trick will will help thee much but nothing can Avail so much as working on th' old man If he writes Verses ne're so like an Ass Extoll them to the Skies and if he has A mind t' a Wench send thy Penelope Do 't of thine own accord be sure that he Don't ask thee for her freely her present And wish she may to 's Worship give content Ul. D' you think my Wife who is so vertuous And modest who so stoutly did oppose So many suitors and continued chaste Will be seduc'd t' anothers lust at last Tyr. They 'd little Souls and knew not how treat Nor to present a Lady that 's so great Theirs was but Kitchin-love they did desire To fill their Bellies not to slake their fire So thy Penelope continued chaste If she of one old man but once should taste She 'ld share the gains with thee and cease no more Then dogs from sheep when they 've kil'd sheep before Nay wonder not at this that I have told I found it all to true when I grew old A damn'd old Hag who did at Thebes die Order'd this Funeral solemnity By her last Will her body she would have Anointed o're with Oyl and to her Grave She order'd him who was to be her Heir On 's naked Shoulders her oyl'd Corps to bear And if by th'slippriness he let her fall What e're she left he was to forfeit all He while she liv'd did I believe pretend Great love to her she 'ld have it without end Walk war●ly and see thou be not found Wanting in duty nor too much abound To sickly men and such as are morose A prating fellow is most tedious Yet s●llen silence affect not at all But Dav●s-like be something Comical Thy Head on one side lean'd as if he were A man of whom thou stood'st in mighty fear Be very dutiful and if the Air Blow ne're so little bid him have a care Of his most precious tender head and when He 's in a Croud get him straight out agen And with both shoulders thrust aside all those Who do his easie coming out oppose And when he falls to talking bow thine ear If his own praises he delights to hear Ply him with high Encomiums and fill Him Bladder-like with swelling words until He lifts both hands up to the very skies An honest Servant 't is enough he cries And when at length thou by his death shalt be From this great care and tedious service free And being broad awak'd shalt hear it read Ulysses quarter-heir to him that 's dead Then with a loud voice cry And is he gon What Have I lost my dear Companion Where now shall I another Patron find Who 's of so just and of so stout a mind Nay weep a little if thou canst 't is good Thy inward joy should not be understood And if th' interment should be left to thee Be sure thou do 't with pomp and decency The Neighbours all about will celebrate A funeral that 's manag'd in great State If one of the oldest Coheirs chance to be Infirm in 's body or cough dangerously Apply thy self to him tell him he shall Buy what to thy share by the Will does fall Whether 't be house or ground tell him thy mind Is more to money then to land inclin'd But Proserpine recalls me to my Cell I must obey and go Live long farewel SATYRE VI. By Sir R. F. He saith he lives content with what he hath and wishes no more Then compares the Commodities of the ease he injoyes in the Countrey with the discommodities of businesses and troubles which accompany the City life THis was my wish A moderate scope of Land A Garden with a pl●n●eous Spring at ha●d And to crown these a plump of trees Heaven gave Better then this 'T is well no more I crave Good Mercury make but these 〈◊〉 indure If neither by ill wayes I did procure Nor by ill wayes shall waste them if I scape Longings O that you Nook which doth ●ishape My Field were added O that I might find A pot of Gold as Hercules to friend He did who hir'd to delve anothers ground Bought the same Land he digg'd with what he found If what I have please me if thou incline When I pray Make my Flock and all that 's mine Fat but my wit and as th' ast ever done Stand my great Guardian Therefore when being flown Out of Romes Cage into the Woods I put Discourses in rough Verse and horse my Foot Nor Feavers kill me nor Ambitions itch Nor ●ickly Autumns making Sextons rich FATHER MATUTE or Janus if that style Affect thee more from whom their births and toil According to the Julian year men date VVith thee I auspicate my work When straight Thou thy self hurriest me away to Rome To be a Surety Quick least some one come Before that 's more officious Rain or Blow And though the Colds shrink day to nothing goe I must and after wrastle through a Croud And crack my Lungs t' undo my self aloud Injure who ere is slower Name of Mars What mean you whose Solicitor Thus curse Those men upon whose Corns I tread O! you Hasting to serve Maecenas care not who You run o're I 'le nere lie this grieves me not 'T is Musick But anon when I have got Esquiliaes misty Top thousand affairs Of other men flie buzzing in mine ears And sting me back and sides Roscius requests To morrow Two you 'd help him i' th' Requests The Secretaries pray you 'd not forget A business that concerns the Publick Great And new today stay Quintus get this Bill Sign'd by Maecenas If I can I will Nay thou can'st do 't and presses me 'T is now A seven years past Maecenas doth allow Me of his Family onely t' advise Whom he should take into his Coach in journeys To whom commit his Meddals What 's a Clock Which Fencer will beat think'st thou or which Cock 'T is a hard Frost Will 't bear another Coat With such like trifles as are safely put In leaking ears This Prentiship have I Serv'd under Envy's lash more and more daily Our Friend Bowl'd with Maecenas th' other day I and they sate together at the Play Some men have Fortune Blowes there through the street A bleak news from the Change straight all I meet G●odman for thou being near the Gods must know Do'st hear ought of the Dacians In sooth No. Thou 'lt ne're leave jeering Hang me if I do

The Lands th●n which the Emperor promis'd to The Souldiers in SICILIA shall they be Allotted to them or in Italy Swearing I nothing know Well Goe thy wayes For a deep pit of secresie and gaze Mean while my Taper wasts scarce time to pray O Fields when shall I see you O when may I rould in Books or lull'd in sleep and ease Opium life's cares with sweet forgetfulness When shall I taste the Pythagorean Bean With fav'ry broth and Bacon without lean O nights and suppers of the Gods which I And mine consume in my own Family Where my Clowns born within doors tear the ●east I tasted to them where the lawless guest D●ies the unequal Cups as his Complexion Asks soaking showres or moderate refection Then talk we not of buying Lands nor school Other mens lives nor whether Caesars Fool Dance well or not But things of more concern Are our discourse and which men ought to learn Whether to happiness do more conduce Vertue or wealth if we our Friends should chuse For ends or honesty What 's understood Truly by Goods and which is the chief good My Neighbour Cervius interweaves his old Fables as thus Aurelius wealth extoll'd Forgetting with what cares it tortures him I 'le tell you a Tale quoth he Once on a time The Country Mouse receiv'd in her poor house Her antient and good friend the City Mouse A mighty Huswife and exceeding nigh Yet free in way of Hospitality In short the Chick-pease she had laid for ●oard And unthrasht Oats she sets upon the Board Brings scraps of Bacon in her mouth and dry Barley desiring with variety Had it been possible to have o'recame The stately niceness of the City-dame When the good wife her self on her Straw-bed Leaving the best on Chaff and Acorn fed At length her guest Friend how canst thou indure To live in this Rock-side moapt and obscure Wild Woods preferr'st Thou to a Town and Men Come go with me Since all shall die and when We go our Mortal souls resolve to dust Live happy whil'st thou may'st as one that must Be nothing a while hence Drawn by this spell The Country Mouse skips lightly from her Cell And both their way unto the City keep Longi●g by night over the walls to creep And now 't was mid-night and her foot each sets In a rich house where glittering Coverlets Of Tyrian Die on Ivory-beds were past And many Offals of a great feast past Lay in the Pantry heapt Her Rural mate Pray'd to repose under a Cloth of State The City Mouse like an officious Hoast Bestirs her self to fetch bak'd boil'd and roast And playes the Carver tasting all she brings She thinks the world well chang'd and Heavens good things Stretching injoyes when straight flies ope the room And tosses both out of the wrought Couch plom Running like things distracted but much more When with Molossian Dogs the high roofs roar Then said the Country Mouse No more of this Give me my Wood my Cave and Roots with peace The same by another Hand THis this the sum of all my wishes was In a small farm my life obscure to pass Where I a Garden and a Spring might see A little Grave or at the least a Tree But here the bounteous Gods have given me more Then all my largest hopes conceiv'd before 'T is well I 'm thankeful and no more I wish But onely that they should continue this If by no wretched gain I ever yet Made my self guilty that I might be great If by no vitious course or squandring way I shall my life to poverty betray If I send up to Heaven no prayer like these O that kind Heaven would give me to possess That narrow spot of ground which nere me lies And ●'re my Garden walks too high doth rise Oh that some luckie hit of Fortune wou'd Bring to my hands such unexpected good As once she did to a hir'd Plough-man who While he with usual hopes the Field did plough He found of hidden treasure so great store He bought the Field wherein he toil'd before No if my mind be equal in desires And to no more then what I have aspires Then let just Heaven keep my Estate from harm Keep my Lambs safe that they may keep me warm● Let me enjoy what 's needful and what 's fit Have all things fat about me but my wit May the Gods be propitious still to me And be my guardians as they use to be And now in this so close and silent life Stole from the arts of Court and Cities strife What should I write but Humerous Satyres here Satyres the Woods inhabitants alwayes were Here no ambitious Raptures heat my head Here no infection through the air is spread Here I in midst of tempests am secure Nor fear the fall of Chimneys every hour Here all the stormy windes that chance to rise Onely bring ●ounder sleeps unto my eyes Or if sometimes their fury they do spend On some tall Oak and it asunder rend Their very mischief's useful here and by Their rage my wood-mans labour they supply But hold while I my self thus flatter here Reck'ning before each pleasure of the year I ●ad forgot that I su●pena'd was And up to London suddenly must pass Away I must and ride through thick and thin There to arive before the Term begin To Horse I must what ever wind doth blow Whether the dayes do long or shorter grow For all my shrugging yet away I must Thither I come and through the croud I thrust Methinks the stream I do already feel As I pass through sometimes I kick ones heel Sometimes anothers Cornes I tread upon While they do curse and cry whither d' you run What ails you why so fast do not you see That we by those before us hindred be To my Maecenas House I still press through Remembring to what company there I go That that indeed is sweet to me for there Is pleasant company and healthy air To me who from the Sea-coals and the noise Escap'd a while a mouthful there injoyes But when I tired and puffing thither come A hundred strangers business do hum About my ears a hundred trifles fall Upon my head back shoulders covering all Of my whole life the greatest part I 've spent Not with my self or to my own content But in that pomp which I of all things hate Th' acquaintance of chief Ministers of State Though all th' employment I had with them was Onely to help some idle hours to pass Sir my Lord such a one desires that you Would be at Westminster at two There did a Merchant Sir for you inquire Your aid in some rich project to desire I pray Sir get his Graces hand to this He knows me and it reasonable is And if I say I 'le do my best in it Oh Sir sayes he if you but think it fit To speak a word th' event I need not fear And then some Bribe they whisper in my ear All 's but for

Tyber better then their Seas Or which o' th' Asiatique Cities please Does Lebedus because you rested there And found that ease you else sought every where 'T is a poor place indeed to Gabil Yet there I 'de choose to live retir'd and die Forgetting all of all my friends forgot Whom though they pity yet they envy not Where from the shoar I might behold the Main And rate my pleasures by anothers pain Yet neither he that does from Capua come Wet to the skin and on his way to Rome Would take an Inn for home or think a fire Or Stove though numb'd with cold his chief desire And seek no further but his kind starrs bless As one arriv'd to perfect happiness Nor for a storm should you for swear the Sea And sell your Barque that you reveng'd might be To one that 's safe Mit ' lene and Rhodes are fair But as Furs in Summer Silks in Winter are As Tyber is to swim in when it snows And as a fire i' th' midst of August showes While Fortune smiles let Rhodes be pray●'d at Rome Chios and Samos fayrest are at home Use the sweet Intervals the Gods allow Nor tell next year put off what may be Now. That every place alike may seem to thee And thou alike content in any bee If prudent Reason sets no bound to Care Nor can those Lands that bounds to th● Ocean are And he that reaches them too late shall find The place is only chang'd and not his Mind And yet we ride and fail and journies make Or happiness to find or to o'retake That which thou seek'st is ready at thy hand And Ulubrae may be the happy land For friend an even Soul can make it there And what we no where find have every where EPISTLE XII By A. B. To ICCIUS That the use of Estates makes men rich WHy dost thou murmur Iccius and repine Because Agrippa's wealth is more then thine Thou art his Steward if thou rightly use Those fruits which his Scicilian lands produce Iove himself can't give thee a greater store Therefore leave off complaining that thou' rt poor For he 's not poor whom fortune does produce What e're is necessary for his use If thou canst get good Diet and warm Cloaths Caesars Estate can't give thee more than those If at a Table stor'd with various meat Thou canst abstemiously a Sallad eat Thou by that virtue wilt as wealthy bee As if kind fortune had showr'd Gold on thee For thy firm soul will above money soar And thou wilt think all things inferiour To amiable Virtue which alone To good men is guide and companion Men wondred at Democritus when hee Sate in his Study and his Hoggs did see Root up his Corn field and his Garden spoil And he sate studying unconcern'd the while His thoughts were set on higher things and thou Wilt be as great an admirat●on now Who in this scabbed avaritious time Mind'st nothing mean but aim'st at things sublime What bounds the Sea what makes it ebb and flow What makes the year round so exactly go Whether the Planets move by their own power Or do obey some cause Superiour From whence th' Eclipses of the Moon proceed And how she 's from her obscuration fre'd What means the jarring sympathy of things And whether good or evil from it springs Whether Empedocles deserve our faith Or that be righter which the Stoick saith But whether thou delightest to feed on F●sh Or only Leeks and Onions be thy dish Receive my good friend Grosphus courteously And grant him freely what he asks of thee For he has so much modesty and wit That he 'l ask nothing but what 's just and fit Friendship doth come to a low market when Any thing 's lack'd by good and worthy men But 'cause perhaps you have a minde to know How all affairs here in our City go Agrippa's valour has Cantabria won Th' Armenians too by Nero are o'rethrown Phraates does great Caesars lawes obey And on his knees submit to th' Roman sway Besides this seasonable harvest yields A plenteous crop in our Italian fields EPISTLE XIII By A. B. To VINIUS ASELLA Instructions for presenting his Poems to Augustus AS I have oftentimes and long since too Instructed thee when thou to Court dost go Dear Vinius I 'ld have my Poems be Presented to Augustus seal'd by thee When he is well and of a cheerfull mind And when to road them he is well inclin'd Do not by much ●fficiousness offend Or hurt me whom thou studi'st to befriend Nor yet make men my Poems to conte●n Because thou importunely proferst them But if the Volume of my book should bee So cumbersome that it should weary thee I 'd rather thou should'st throw them quite away Than on thy soulders them like Dorsers lay And so make thy paternal name becaus 'T is Asina to signifie an Ass And make thy self a Tabletalk and be Ridiculous to all Posteritie Set all thy strength to ' ●●pass through thick and th●n And when th' hast had thy will and entred in To Caesar's presence use the matters so That prying Courtiers may not come to know That thou a load of Poetry dost bear Under thy arm as if a Rustick were Carrying a Lamb or drunken Pyrrbia Carryed the stoln Quills of Yarn away Or as a Tenant when he gets a Rowse Carries his Cap and Shooes from 's Landlord's house Nor tell the Vulgar that thou sweat'st to bear Lines which will please both Caesars eye and ear And though th' art courted ne're so much press on Shew no body a line Well get thee gon Farewell be carefull that thou err'st not and If thou e're lov'st me break not my command EPISTLE XIV By R. T. To his BAILIFF The difference betwixt a Country life and a City life THou Bailiff of my Woods and pleasant Field Which serv'd five dwellers once and us'd to yield Five Burgesses for Baria by thee now Conte●●● let 's try who weeds best I or you Whither my mind or ground be better till'd Which is the better Horrace or his field Though L●mias pitty mourning th' hasty fate Of 's Brother ravisht from him do create Occasion for my longer stay at Rome Then ordinary yet my heart 's at home That strives to break all stops for I prefer The Countrey thou the Town as happier Who likes anothers fortune hates his own He is a fool that does accuse the Town Or Country either and does falsly find Fault with the place when all the fault 's in 's mind Which never fly's its self when you were slave To th' Baths and liv'd in Town you us'd to crave With silent Prayer to be remov'd to go To be a Country man now being so You cover Baths Playes and the Town you see I 'me constant and when business urges me Which I of all things hate to Rome I part From thence sad and afflicted at my heart Our fancies don't agree what you despise He likes that is of my mind