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Acon his right, Leonilla her left eye
Doth want; yet each in form, the gods out-vie.
Sweet read more
Acon his right, Leonilla her left eye
Doth want; yet each in form, the gods out-vie.
Sweet boy, with thine, thy sister's sight improved:
So shall she Venus be, thou God of Love.
[Lat., Lumine Acon dextre,--capta est Leonilla sinistre,
Et potis est forma vincere uterque dees:
Blande puer, lumen quod habes concede sorori,
Sic tu caecus Amor, sic erit illa Venus.]
You put fine dishes on your table, Olus, but you always put them
on covered. This is ridiculous; in read more
You put fine dishes on your table, Olus, but you always put them
on covered. This is ridiculous; in the same way I could put fine
dished on my table.
Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.
Unlike my subject, I will make my song.
It shall be witty, and it shan't be long.
The qualities all in a bee that we meet,
In an epigram never should fail;
The body read more
The qualities all in a bee that we meet,
In an epigram never should fail;
The body should always be little and sweet,
And a sting should be felt in its tail.
You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.
You complain, Velox, that the epigrams which I write are long.
You yourself write nothing; your attempts are shorter.
And have you been able, Flaccus, to see the slender Thais? Then,
Flaccus, I suspect you can see what read more
And have you been able, Flaccus, to see the slender Thais? Then,
Flaccus, I suspect you can see what is invisible.
If you wish, Faustinus, a bath of boiling water to be reduced in
temperature,--a bath, such as scarcely Julianus read more
If you wish, Faustinus, a bath of boiling water to be reduced in
temperature,--a bath, such as scarcely Julianus could enter,--ask
the rhetorician Sabinaeus to bathe himself in it. He would
freeze the warm baths of Nero.
You were constantly, Matho, a guest at my villa at Tivoli. Now
you buy it--I have deceived you; I read more
You were constantly, Matho, a guest at my villa at Tivoli. Now
you buy it--I have deceived you; I have merely sold you what was
already your own.
Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,
At once we think thee Satan, Death and Sin.
Thou art so witty, profligate and thin,
At once we think thee Satan, Death and Sin.