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 |  |
135
Care.
The Fears and Cares which torture human Hearts,Despite the Clash of Arms, and points of Darts;
With mighty Kings and Potentates make bold,
Maugre their Purple, and their shining Gold.—
Let no Concern, no Cares for Life approach;
For Life, which lasts not long, and asks not much.
Youth soon is gone, and Beauty quickly fades,
And sapless Age besilvers o'er our Heads:
Swift, swift away, the smiling Minutes move,
And leave no room for Rest, or wanton Love.
For Life, which lasts not long, and asks not much.
Youth soon is gone, and Beauty quickly fades,
And sapless Age besilvers o'er our Heads:
Swift, swift away, the smiling Minutes move,
And leave no room for Rest, or wanton Love.
Nor Flow'rs with vernal Glory alway blow,
Nor her bright Face does Phœbe always show:
And why don't you to harrass out forbear
A Mind unequal to continual Care?
Nor her bright Face does Phœbe always show:
And why don't you to harrass out forbear
A Mind unequal to continual Care?
Why underneath some tow'ring Poplar's Shade,
Or spreading Pine, ar'n't we supinely laid:
Our silver Hairs with fragrant Roses crown'd,
Assyrian Nard perfuming all around?
Why rashly, whilst we can, do we delay
To drink our Troubles and our Cares away?—
Or spreading Pine, ar'n't we supinely laid:
Our silver Hairs with fragrant Roses crown'd,
Assyrian Nard perfuming all around?
Why rashly, whilst we can, do we delay
To drink our Troubles and our Cares away?—
Why should our Time run out in useless Years,
Of anxious Troubles, and tormenting Fears?
With no Success, and no Advantage crown'd,
Why should we still tread an unfinish'd Round?
Why should deluding Hopes disturb our Ease,
Vain to pursue, yet eager to possess?
Grown grey in Cares, how senseless is the Strife!
In seeking how to live we waste a Life.
The more we have, the meaner is our Store,
Whilst what we have we lose, and only crave for more.—
Of anxious Troubles, and tormenting Fears?
With no Success, and no Advantage crown'd,
Why should we still tread an unfinish'd Round?
Why should deluding Hopes disturb our Ease,
Vain to pursue, yet eager to possess?
Grown grey in Cares, how senseless is the Strife!
In seeking how to live we waste a Life.
The more we have, the meaner is our Store,
Whilst what we have we lose, and only crave for more.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |