us.

TO MARCUS T. CICERO.
IN AN ENGLISH PENTASTICK.

Tully to thee, Rome's eloquent sole heir,
The best of all that are, shall be, and were,
I the worst poet send my best thanks and pray'r:
Ev'n by how much the worst of poets I,
By so much you the best of patrones be.

<-------------------->

AD JUVENCIUM. CAT. EP. 49.

Mellitos oculos tuos, Juvenci,
Si quis me sinat usque basiare,
Usque ad millia basiem trecenta;
Nec unquam videat satur futurus:
Non si densior aridis aristis,
Sit nostrae seges osculationis.

TO JUVENCIUS.

Juvencius, thy fair sweet eyes
If to my fill that I may kisse,
Three hundred thousand times I'de kisse,
Nor future age should cloy this blisse;
No, not if thicker than ripe ears
The harvest of our kisses bears.

<-------------------->

DE PUERO ET PRAECONE. CATUL.

Cum puero bello praeconem qui videt esse,
Quid credat, nisi se vendere discupere?

CATUL.

With a fair boy a cryer we behold,
What should we think, but he would not be sold?<99.1>

<99.1> Lovelace has made nonsense of this passage. We ought
to read rather, "but that he would be sold!"

<-------------------->

PORTII LICINII.

Si Phoebi soror es, mando tibi, Delia, causam,
Scilicet, ut fratri quae peto verba feras:
Marmore Sicanio struxi tibi, Delphice, templum,
Et levibus calamis candida verba dedi.
Nunc, si nos audis, atque es divinus Apollo,
Dic mihi, qui nummos non habet unde petat.

ENGLISHED.

If you are Phoebus sister, Delia, pray,
This my request unto the Sun convay:
O Delphick god, I built thy marble fane,
And sung thy praises with a gentle cane,<100.1>
Now, if thou art divine Apollo, tell,
Where he, whose purse is empty, may go fill.

<100.1> Reed or pipe.

<-------------------->

SENECAE EX CLEANTHE.

Duc me, Parens celsique Dominator poli,
Quocunque placuit, nulla parendi mora est;
Adsum impiger; fac nolle, comitabor gemens,
Malusque patiar facere, quod licuit bono.
Ducunt volentem Fata, nolentem trahunt.

ENGLISHED.

Parent and Prince of Heav'n, O lead, I pray,
Where ere you please, I follow and obey.
Active I go, sighing, if you gainsay,
And suffer bad what to the good was law.
Fates lead the willing, but unwilling draw.

<-------------------->

QUINTI C