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 |  |
Observe, how ancient Marsus did advise:
My Sons! let these small Cotts and Hills suffice:
Let Us the Harvest of our Labour eat:
'Tis Labour makes the coarsest Diet sweet.
My Sons! let these small Cotts and Hills suffice:
Let Us the Harvest of our Labour eat:
'Tis Labour makes the coarsest Diet sweet.
The wiser Antients these Instructions gave:
But now a covetous old crafty Knave,
At dead of Night, shall rouze his Son, and cry,
Turn out, You Rogue! how like a Beast You lie:
Go, buckle to the Law: is this an Hour
To stretch your Limbs!—You'll ne'er be Chancellor.
Or else, yourself to Lelius recommend,
To such broad Shoulders Lelius is a Friend:
Fight under him, there's Plunder to be had:
A Captain is a very gainful Trade:
And when in Service your best Days are spent,
In time You may command a Regiment.
But if the Trumpet's Clangor You abhor,
And cannot undergoe the Toils of War,
Take to a Shop, behind a Counter lie,
Cheat half in half: none thrive by Honesty.
Never reflect upon the sordid Ware
Which You expose: be Gain your only Care.
He that grows rich by scouring of a Sink,
Gets wherewithal to justify the Stink.
This Sentence, worthy Jove himself, record
As true, and take it on a Poet's Word:
“That you get Money, is a needful Task,
“But how you get it, none will ever ask.—
But now a covetous old crafty Knave,
At dead of Night, shall rouze his Son, and cry,
Turn out, You Rogue! how like a Beast You lie:
Go, buckle to the Law: is this an Hour
To stretch your Limbs!—You'll ne'er be Chancellor.
Or else, yourself to Lelius recommend,
To such broad Shoulders Lelius is a Friend:
Fight under him, there's Plunder to be had:
A Captain is a very gainful Trade:
And when in Service your best Days are spent,
In time You may command a Regiment.
But if the Trumpet's Clangor You abhor,
And cannot undergoe the Toils of War,
Take to a Shop, behind a Counter lie,
Cheat half in half: none thrive by Honesty.
Never reflect upon the sordid Ware
Which You expose: be Gain your only Care.
191
Gets wherewithal to justify the Stink.
This Sentence, worthy Jove himself, record
As true, and take it on a Poet's Word:
“That you get Money, is a needful Task,
“But how you get it, none will ever ask.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |