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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.
In whatever place you meet me, Postumus, you cry out immediately,
and your very first words are, "How do read more
In whatever place you meet me, Postumus, you cry out immediately,
and your very first words are, "How do you do?" You say this,
even if you meet me ten times in one single hour: you, Postumus,
have nothing, I suppose, to do.
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.
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.
The diamond's virtues well might grace
The epigram, and both excel
In brilliancy in smallest space,
read more
The diamond's virtues well might grace
The epigram, and both excel
In brilliancy in smallest space,
And power to cut as well.
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.
What's this that myrrh doth still smell in thy kiss,
And that with thee no other odour is?
read more
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.
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.
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.