Lege pari gladium incuset sicarius atrox Caso homine, et ferrum judicet esse reum.
Qui subito ex imis rerum in fastigia surgit, Nativas sordes, quicquid agatur, olet.
ON ONE IGNORANT AND ARROGANT.
THOU mayst of double ignorance boast,
Who know'st not that thou nothing know'st.
PRUDENT SIMPLICITY.
THAT thou mayst injure no man, dove-like be, And serpent-like, that none may injure thee!
SUNSET AND SUNRISE.
CONTEMPLATE, when the sun declines,
Thy death with deep reflection!
And when again he rising shines,
The day of resurrection!
TO A FRIEND IN DISTRESS.
I WISH thy lot, now bad, still worse, my friend; For when at worst, they say, things always mend.
RETALIATION.
THE works of ancient bards divine,
Aulus, thou scorn'st to read;
And should posterity read thine,
It would be strange indeed!
WHEN little more than boy in age,
I deem'd myself almost a sage:
But now seem worthier to be styled,
For ignorance, almost a child.
VIRGIL, OVID, HORACE, AND HOMER.
THE SALAD, BY VIRGIL.
THE winter night now well nigh worn away, The wakeful cock proclaim'd approaching day, When Simulus, poor tenant of a farm
Of narrowest limits, heard the shrill alarm, Yawn'd, stretch'd his limbs, and anxious to pro
Against the pangs of hunger unsupplied,
By slow degrees his tatter'd bed forsook,
And, poking in the dark, explored the nook
Where embers slept with ashes heap'd around,
And with burnt fingers' ends the treasure found.
It chanced that from a brand beneath his nose,
Sure proof of latent fire some smoke arose;
When, trimming with a pin the encrusted tow,
And stooping it towards the coals below,
He toils with cheeks distended, to excite
The lingering flame, and gains at length a light.
With prudent heed he spreads his hand before
The quivering lamp, and opes his granary door.
Small was his stock, but taken for the day
A measured stint of twice eight pounds away,
With these his mill he seeks. A shelf at hand,
Fix'd in the wall, affords his lamp a stand:
Then baring both his arms—a sleeveless coat
He girds, the rough exuviæ of a goat:
And with a rubber, for that use design'd,
Cleansing his mill within―begins to grind ;
Each hand has its employ; laboring amain,
This turns the winch, while that supplies the
grain.
The stone, revolving rapidly, now glows,
And the bruised corn a mealy current flows;
While he, to make his heavy labor light,
Tasks oft his left hand to relieve his right;
And chants with rudest accent, to beguile
His ceaseless toil, as rude a strain the while.
And now, "Dame Cybale, come forth !" he cries;
But Cybale, still slumbering, nought replies.
From Afric she, the swain's sole serving-maid,
Whose face and form alike her birth betray'd.
With woolly locks, lips tumid, sable skin,
Wide bosom, udders flaccid, belly thin,
Legs slender, broad and most misshapen feet, Chapp'd into chinks, and parch'd with solar heat.
Such, summon'd oft, she came; at his command Fresh fuel heap'd, the sleeping embers fann'd, And made in haste her simmering skillet steam, Replenish'd newly from the neighboring stream.
The labors of the mill perform'd, a sieve The mingled flour and bran must next receive, Which shaken oft shoots Ceres through refined, And better dress'd, her husks all left behind. This done, at once his future plain repast Unleaven❜d on a shaven board he cast, With tepid lymph first largely soak'd it all, Then gather'd it with both hands to a ball, And spreading it again with both hands wide, With sprinkled salt the stiffen'd mass supplied;
At length the stubborn substance, duly wrought, Takes from his palms impress'd the shape it ought,
Becomes an orb--and quarter'd into shares,
The faithful mark of just division bears.
Last, on his hearth it finds convenient space,
For Cybale before had swept the place,
And there, with tiles and embers overspread,
She leaves it-reeking in its sultry bed.
Nor Simulus, while Vulcan thus alone
His part perform'd, proves heedless of his own,
But sedulous, not merely to subdue
His hunger, but to please his palate too,
Prepares more savory food. His chimney side
Could boast no gammon, salted well and dried
And hook'd behind him; but sufficient store
Of bundled anise and a cheese it bore; [strung
A broad round cheese, which, through its centre
With a tough broom twig, in the corner hung;
The prudent hero, therefore, with address
And quick despatch, now seeks another mess.
Close to his cottage lay a garden ground,
With reeds and osiers sparely girt around;
Small was the spot, but liberal to produce,
Nor wanted aught to serve a peasant's use;
And sometimes e'en the rich would borrow
Although its tillage was its sole expense.
For oft as from his toils abroad he ceased,
Home-bound by weather, or some stated feast,
His debt of culture here he duly paid,
And only left the plough to wield the spade.
He knew to give each plant the soil it needs,
To drill the ground and cover close the seeds;
And could with ease compel the wanton rill
To turn and wind obedient to his will.
|