Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
—From thy growing Store
Lend thy Assistance, and relieve the Poor.
Come, do a noble Act of Charity:
A Pittance of thy Land will set him free.
Nor tell me that thy frowning Heir will say,
'Tis mine, that Wealth thou squander'st thus away:
What is't to thee, if he neglects thy Urn,
Or without Spices lets thy Body burn?
If Odours to thy Ashes he refuse,
Or buys bad Cassia, that's not fit to use?
For what hast Thou to fear beyond the Grave?—
Lend thy Assistance, and relieve the Poor.
Come, do a noble Act of Charity:
A Pittance of thy Land will set him free.
Nor tell me that thy frowning Heir will say,
'Tis mine, that Wealth thou squander'st thus away:
What is't to thee, if he neglects thy Urn,
Or without Spices lets thy Body burn?
If Odours to thy Ashes he refuse,
Or buys bad Cassia, that's not fit to use?
For what hast Thou to fear beyond the Grave?—
473
And thou who gap'st for my Estate, draw near,
For I would whisper somewhat in thy Ear.
Hear'st thou the News, my Friend? Th' Express is come
With laurel'd Letters from the Camp to Rome:
Our Emperor salutes the Senate thus:
My Arms are on the Rhine victorious,
From mourning Altars sweep the Dust away,
Cease Fasting, and proclaim a fat thanksgiving Day.
For I would whisper somewhat in thy Ear.
Hear'st thou the News, my Friend? Th' Express is come
With laurel'd Letters from the Camp to Rome:
Our Emperor salutes the Senate thus:
My Arms are on the Rhine victorious,
From mourning Altars sweep the Dust away,
Cease Fasting, and proclaim a fat thanksgiving Day.
Now to the gracious Gods for these high Matters,
Know I have vow'd two hundred Gladiators,
And mean to crown a Bowl to Cœsar's Health.—
Say, would'st Thou hinder me from this Expence?
I disinherit, if Thou tak'st Offence.
Yet more, a public Largess I design,
Of Oil and Pyes to make the People dine.
Dost Thou think much of this? speak freely out:
Your poor Estate, Thou cry'st, deserves not all this Rout.
Well: on my Terms thou wilt not be my Heir?—
If Thou car'st little, less shall be my Care.
Were none of all my Father's Sisters left,
Nay, were I of my Mother's Kin bereft,
None by a Mother's or a Grandame's Side,
Yet I could soon some other Heir provide.—
Know I have vow'd two hundred Gladiators,
And mean to crown a Bowl to Cœsar's Health.—
Say, would'st Thou hinder me from this Expence?
I disinherit, if Thou tak'st Offence.
Yet more, a public Largess I design,
Of Oil and Pyes to make the People dine.
Dost Thou think much of this? speak freely out:
Your poor Estate, Thou cry'st, deserves not all this Rout.
Well: on my Terms thou wilt not be my Heir?—
If Thou car'st little, less shall be my Care.
Were none of all my Father's Sisters left,
Nay, were I of my Mother's Kin bereft,
None by a Mother's or a Grandame's Side,
Yet I could soon some other Heir provide.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |