Martial. Book I, xlii
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When the sad tale, how Brutus fell, was brought, And slaves refused the weapon Portia sought; "Know ye not yet," she said, with towering pride, "Death is a boon that cannot be denied? I thought my father amply had imprest This simple truth upon each Roman breast." Dauntless she gulph'd the embers as they flamed And, while their heat within her raged, exclaim'd "Now, troublous guardians of a life abhorr'd, Still urge your caution, and refuse the sword." —George Lamb |
TO POTITUS
Martial. Book X, lxx
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That scarce a piece I publish in a year, Idle perhaps to you I may appear. But rather, that I write at all, admire, When I am often robbed of days entire. Now with my friends the evening I must spend: To those preferred my compliments must send. Now at the witnessing a will make one: Hurried from this to that, my morning's gone. Some office must attend; or else some ball; Or else my lawyer's summons to the hall. Now a rehearsal, now a concert hear; And now a Latin play at Westminster. Home after ten return, quite tir'd and dos'd. When is the piece, you want, to be compos'd? —John Hay |
[WHAT IS GIVEN TO FRIENDS IS NOT LOST]
Martial
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Your slave will with your gold abscond, The fire your home lay low, Your debtor will disown his bond Your farm no crops bestow; Your steward a mistress frail shall cheat; Your freighted ship the storms will beat; That only from mischance you'll save, Which to your friends is given; The only wealth you'll always have Is that you've lent to heaven. —English Journal of Education, Jan., 1856 |