Or call him as he starts to go,
For if what men relate be so,

She now is pining fast away

With love, for since he read his lay Of Cybele the great Dindymian queen,

The hapless girl, they say, consumed hath been

With passion, and from out her breast

Hath fled for aye her wonted rest ;

Poor maiden! thee I can excuse

More learned than the Sapphic muse, For my Cæcilius with his charméd tongue Hath nobly of the mighty mother sung.

CARMEN XXXVI.-ON VOLUSIUS' ANNALS.

Volusius' Annals, of all books the worst,

Assist me in this, O ye volumes accurst,

And fulfil for my damsel a vow which she swore
That if Venus and Cupid would ever restore

To her arms me her lover, and make me cease writing
Those iambics I scribble remorseless and biting
With their truculent wit, she would make a selection
Of the worst poet's works that were in her collection,
And burn them an offering to Vulcan the lame,
While from unlucky wood should be kindled the flame.

Now her humourous vow to accomplish she sees

That these volumes must go-the worst written are these—

So now, thou fair goddess, the child of the waves,

Who frequentest the harbour which Hadria laves
And Cnidus the reedy, and Syria's plain,

And in Golgi and Amathus guardest thy fame,
Who in holy Idalium keepest thy seat,
Whom Ancona as guardian goddess doth greet,
Let such a fulfilment find grace in thy eyes
Of the vow my girl made, if thou do not despise
This our jesting, nor find it with humour ungraced,
Nor wanting refinement and elegant taste,
Meanwhile to the flames, wretched verses, with you,
Volusius' Annals, most hateful to view,

Full of boorish conceits and stupidity too.

CARMEN XXXVIII. TO CORNIFICIUS.

Cornificius, thy sick friend

Woes and troubles without end
Harass without increasing weight,

And each day each hour my fate
Darker, darker still doth grow:
Thou the while to still my woe

Not one line hast sent to me,
Not one word of sympathy,
Yet for thee an easy task

Is this trifling boon I ask;

I am wroth that thou should'st leave
Me thy friend alone to grieve,

And thus treat my tale of love,

Though thy words more mournful prove

Than Simonides' sad strain

Even that would ease my pain.

CARMEN XXXIX. ON EGNATIUS.

Egnatius' teeth are very white,

And so he grins both day and night,

E'en when he to the court repairs

Where some great speaker moves to tears

He grins, or at a scene of woe,

Where some fond son is lying low

Upon the funeral pile, and where

The mother weeps bereft of all

Her one son lost, he grins e'en there

So that whate'er chance befall

Whate'er he do, where'er he be

He ever grins incessantly.

This seems a species of disease,

But vulgar 'tis, and does not please;
So now Egnatius, worthy friend,

Το my advice and words attend.
Had you been born in mighty Rome,

Or even had from Tibur come,

Or were a fat Etruscan, or

A Sabine, or an Umbrian boar,

Or a Lanuvian dark in hue,

With monstrous teeth that strike the view,

Or Transpadane, e'en these I'll name

Whom I as countrymen can claim,
Or were of any country where

Men's teeth are cleansed with water fair,
E'en then you should that grin forego.
Than stupid laughter naught can show
More stupid, but you've come from Spain,

And Spaniards as is known are fain

Their scarlet gums and teeth to clean

With stinking water, so 'tis seen

That when your teeth most brightly shine

'Tis clear you've drunk of filthy brine.

CARMEN XL. TO RAVIDUS.

Say, Ravidus, what madness dire
Thy senseless bosom doth inspire

My verses to provoke ?

Thee to this reckless combat now

What counselling god doth urge whom thou
Not wisely did'st invoke?

Is it that men should speak of thee,

That thou the common talk should'st be?

Well it shall e'en be so,

The maid I loved 'twas thy intent

To win, so lasting punishment

On thee will I bestow.

CARMEN XLII.

Come hither, my verses, attend to my call

Come hither from all sides, come one and come all: Your tablets this wanton has taken away,

Such a trick upon me she thought proper to play,
You can't quite stand this; so pursue her, I pray,
And demand them all back; who is it? you say,

Why that jade over there
Strutting on with an air