7787 MARCUS MARTIAL. MARTIAL (MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS), a Latin poet; born at Bilbilis, Spain, about 43; died there about 104. He came to Rome in 66, and seems to have resided there until 100, when he returned to Bilbilis. From Domitian he obtained the jus trium liberorum with the rank of eques and of tribune. He seems to have been intimate with Juvenal, Pliny, Quintilian, Fronto, Silius, and Valerius Flaccus. He inveighs against Nero, but flatters Domitian; after whose death he vilifies his memory, and burns incense to Nerva and Trajan. His works consist of fourteen books, comprising about fifteen hundred Epigrams. There is also a “Liber de Spectaculis," containing epigrams on the games of the amphitheatre. He has been frequently translated into English. THOU REASON'ST WELL. THE atheist swears there is no God And no eternal bliss: For him to own no world above Doth make a heaven of this. NEVER IS, BUT ALWAYS TO BE. You always say "to-morrow," "to-morrow" you will live; It 's ever coming, never here; its years beat Nestor's hollow! TERTIUM QUID. WHEN poets, croaking hoarse with cold, VOL. XIV. To spout their verses seek, They show at once they cannot hold -32 SIMILIA SIMILIBUS. I WONDER not that this sweetheart of thine I only wonder that her father's daughter CANNIBALISM. WITHOUT roast pig he never takes his seat: EQUALS ADDED TO EQUALS. You ask why I refuse to wed a woman famed for riches: Because I will not take the veil and give my wife the breeches. The dame, my friend, unto her spouse must be subservient quite : No other way can man and wife maintain their equal right. THE COOK WELL DONE. WHY call me a bloodthirsty, gluttonous sinner EVOLUTION. - twin personages: A SURGEON once a sexton now- VALE OF TEARS. ALONE she never weeps her father's death; When friends are by, her tears time every breath. SIC VOS NON VOBIS. Ir that the gods should grant these brothers twain A noble strife affection would constrain, For each would long to die in brother's stead; And he would say who first reached death's confine, "Live, brother, thine own days, and then live mine!" SILENCE IS GOLDEN. YOU'RE pretty, I know it; and young, that is true; And wealthy there's none but confesses that too: But you trumpet your praises with so loud a tongue That you cease to be wealthy or pretty or young! SO NEAR AND YET SO FAR. YES, New and I both here reside: And people think I'm puffed with pride, And envy me serenely blessed, With such a man for host and guest. The fact is this he's just as far As folks in Borrioboola Gha. What! booze with him? or see his face, THE COBBLER'S LAST. PREDESTINED for patching and soling, You find yourself squire by cajoling, When with pigs you should hobnob instead; And midst your lord's vertu you're rolling, To soak up unpractical views! BUT LITTLE HERE BELOW. His grave must be shallow, the earth on him light, Or else you will smother the poor little mite. E PLURIBUS UNUS. WHEN hundreds to your parlors rush, Well, frankly, sir, I'm not imbued FINE FRENZY. LONG and Short will furnish verse To market any fake: Do poets any longer dream, Or are they wide-awake? LIVE WITHOUT DINING. Now, if you have an axe to grind, or if you mean to spout, your invite is to a spread, then you must count me out: I do not like that dark-brown flask, I dread the thought of gout, TO CALENUS. (From Epigrams. Translated by Hay.) WHEN Some time since you had not clear You lived so well, your bounty such, Your friends all wished you twice as much: In six months four relations died, A greater miser every day, And then not worth a groat the cheer; TO HIS BOOK. (From Epigrams.) THREE hundred epigrams thou might'st contain, But who, to read so many can sustain ? Hear what in praise of brevity is said: First, less expense and waste of paper's made ; ON REGULUS. (From Epigrams. Translated by Elphinston.) ON Tibur's road to where Alcides towers, |