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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.
When to secure your bald pate from the weather,
You lately wore a cape of black neats' leather;
read more
When to secure your bald pate from the weather,
You lately wore a cape of black neats' leather;
He was a very wag, who to you said,
"Why do you wear your slippers on your head?"
Never think of leaving perfumes or wine to your heir. Administer
these yourself, and let him have your money.
Never think of leaving perfumes or wine to your heir. Administer
these yourself, and let him have your money.
I could do without your face, and your neck, and your hands, and
your limbs, and your bosom, and read more
I could do without your face, and your neck, and your hands, and
your limbs, and your bosom, and other of your charms. Indeed,
not to fatigue myself with enumerating each of them, I could do
without you, Chloe, altogether.
"You are too free spoken," is your constant remark to me,
Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is read more
"You are too free spoken," is your constant remark to me,
Choerilus. He who speaks against you, Choerilus, is indeed a
free speaker.
See how the mountain goat hangs from the summit of the cliff; you
would expect it to fall; it read more
See how the mountain goat hangs from the summit of the cliff; you
would expect it to fall; it is merely showing its contempt for
the dogs.
Some learned writers . . . have compared a Scorpion to an Epigram
. . . because as the read more
Some learned writers . . . have compared a Scorpion to an Epigram
. . . because as the sting of the Scorpion lyeth in the tayl, so
the force and virtue of an epigram is in the conclusion.
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.]
Report says that you, Fidentinus, recite my compositions in
public as if they were your own. If you allow read more
Report says that you, Fidentinus, recite my compositions in
public as if they were your own. If you allow them to be called
mine, I will send you my verses gratis; if you wish them to be
called yours, pray buy them, that they may be mine no longer.