Nine times winter had end, nine times flush'd summer in harvest,
Ere to the world gave forth Cinna, the labour of years,
Zmyrna; but in one month Hortensius hundred on hundred
Verses, an unripe birth feeble, of hurry begot.
5 Zmyrna to far Satrachus, to the stream of Cyprus, ascendeth;
Zmyrna with eyes unborn study the centuries hoar.
Padus her own ill child shall bury, Volusius' annals;
In them a mackerel oft house him, a wrapper of ease.
Dear to my heart be a friend's unbulky memorial ever;
10 Cherish an Antimachus, weighty as empty, the mob.
XCVI.
If to the silent dead aught sweet or tender ariseth,
Calvus, of our dim grief's common humanity born;
When to a love long cold some pensive pity recals us,
When for a friend long lost wakes some unhappy regret;
5 Not so deeply, be sure, Quintilia's early departing
Grieves her, as in thy love dureth a plenary joy.
XCVIII.
Asks some booby rebuke, some prolix prattler a judgment?
Vettius, all were said verily truer of you.
Tongue so noisome as yours, come chance, might surely on order
Bend to the mire, or lick dirt from a beggarly shoe.
5 Would you on all of us, all, bring, Vettius, utterly ruin?
Speak; not a doubt, 'twill come utterly, ruin on all.
XCIX.
Dear one, a kiss I stole, while you did wanton a-playing,
Sweet ambrosia, love, never as honily sweet.