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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.
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.
Since your legs, Phoebus, resemble the horns of the moon, you
might bathe your feet in a cornucopia.
Since your legs, Phoebus, resemble the horns of the moon, you
might bathe your feet in a cornucopia.
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.
Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
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Do you wonder for what reason, Theodorus, notwithstanding your
frequent requests and importunities, I have never presented you
with my works? I have an excellent reason; it is lest you should
present me with yours.
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.
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.
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 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.