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The diamond's virtues well might grace
The epigram, and both excel
In brilliancy in smallest space,
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The diamond's virtues well might grace
The epigram, and both excel
In brilliancy in smallest space,
And power to cut as well.
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.
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.
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.
What is an epigram? a dwarfish whole,
Its body brevity, and wit its soul.
What is an epigram? a dwarfish whole,
Its body brevity, and wit its soul.
Sir Drake whom well the world's end knew
Which thou did'st compass round,
And whom both Poles read more
Sir Drake whom well the world's end knew
Which thou did'st compass round,
And whom both Poles of heaven once saw
Which North and South do bound,
The stars above would make thee known,
If men here silent were;
The sun himself cannot forget
His fellow traveller.
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.
The book which you are reading aloud is mine, Fidentinus; but,
while you read it so badly, it begins read more
The book which you are reading aloud is mine, Fidentinus; but,
while you read it so badly, it begins to be yours.
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
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What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
'Tis doubt, my Postumus, he that doth smell
So sweetly always, smells not very well.