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 |  |
The greedy avaritious Wretch is found
Always in Want:—but Thou thy Wishes bound.—
Always in Want:—but Thou thy Wishes bound.—
The Love of Gold by Gain is still increas'd:
And He, who has it not, desires, it least.—
And He, who has it not, desires, it least.—
Gold, 'tis for thee a Life of Care we know,
For thee, untimely, to the Grave we go.
Vice is encourag'd and supply'd by thee,
And thou'rt the Source of human Misery.—
For thee, untimely, to the Grave we go.
Vice is encourag'd and supply'd by thee,
And thou'rt the Source of human Misery.—
What's Wealth to me, if you its Use deny,
Tho' large my Heaps, a wretched Beggar I.
Riches are Torments, if the shining Ore
We dare not touch, but only guard the Store.
So Tantalus of Thirst and Hunger dies,
With Food and Water just before his Eyes.
Tho' large my Heaps, a wretched Beggar I.
Riches are Torments, if the shining Ore
We dare not touch, but only guard the Store.
So Tantalus of Thirst and Hunger dies,
With Food and Water just before his Eyes.
The Man is mad, and should a Keeper have,
Who freights a Ship, and ventures on the Seas,
With one frail interposing Plank to save
From certain Death, roll'd on by ev'ry Wave:
Yet Money makes him all this Toil embrace;
Money with Titles stampt, and a dull Monarch's Face.
When gath'ring Clouds o'ershadow all the Skies,
And shoot quick Lightnings,—Weigh, my Boys, he cries,
A Summer's Thunder, soon it will be past:—
Yet, hardy Fool! this Night may prove thy last:
When Thou (thy Ship o'erwhelm'd with Waves) shalt be
Forc'd to plunge naked in the raging Sea.
Thy Teeth fast clos'd, a Purse full of dear Gold,
The last Remains of all thy Stores shall hold.—
Who freights a Ship, and ventures on the Seas,
With one frail interposing Plank to save
From certain Death, roll'd on by ev'ry Wave:
Yet Money makes him all this Toil embrace;
Money with Titles stampt, and a dull Monarch's Face.
When gath'ring Clouds o'ershadow all the Skies,
And shoot quick Lightnings,—Weigh, my Boys, he cries,
A Summer's Thunder, soon it will be past:—
Yet, hardy Fool! this Night may prove thy last:
When Thou (thy Ship o'erwhelm'd with Waves) shalt be
Forc'd to plunge naked in the raging Sea.
Thy Teeth fast clos'd, a Purse full of dear Gold,
The last Remains of all thy Stores shall hold.—
87
Thy greedy Wishes bound, enjoy thy Store,
And help thy Friends, necessitous, and poor.—
And help thy Friends, necessitous, and poor.—
If what you drink should make your Thirst increase,
Surely you'd tell some Doctor your Disease,
And seek for Cure.—Now your abundant Store
But only makes you covet Wealth the more:
And dare you rest content, and not apply
To Somebody, to find a Remedy?
Suppose you had a Wound, and one had show'd
A Root, or Herb, which try'd had done no Good:
Would you not cease to follow his Advice?—
Now, you have heard, that he must needs be wise
To whom the Gods give Riches: yet you find
The Wealth you have, has not improv'd your Mind:
And will you still believe it, when you know
By sad Experience that it is not so?
Cou'd Gold with godlike Prudence Minds inspire,
Or lessen anxious Fear and fond Desire,
Then you should blush, if all the World could shew
A Man more covetous of Wealth than you.—
Surely you'd tell some Doctor your Disease,
And seek for Cure.—Now your abundant Store
But only makes you covet Wealth the more:
And dare you rest content, and not apply
To Somebody, to find a Remedy?
Suppose you had a Wound, and one had show'd
A Root, or Herb, which try'd had done no Good:
Would you not cease to follow his Advice?—
Now, you have heard, that he must needs be wise
To whom the Gods give Riches: yet you find
The Wealth you have, has not improv'd your Mind:
And will you still believe it, when you know
By sad Experience that it is not so?
Cou'd Gold with godlike Prudence Minds inspire,
Or lessen anxious Fear and fond Desire,
Then you should blush, if all the World could shew
A Man more covetous of Wealth than you.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |