"
--George Lamb
TO POTITUS
Martial. Book X, lxx
That scarce a piece I publish in a year,
Idle perhaps to you I may appear.
But rather, that I write at all, admire,
When I am often robbed of days entire.
Now with my friends the evening I must spend:
To those preferred my compliments must send.
Now at the witnessing a will make one:
Hurried from this to that, my morning's gone.
Some office must attend; or else some ball;
Or else my lawyer's summons to the hall.
Now a rehearsal, now a concert hear;
And now a Latin play at Westminster.
Home after ten return, quite tir'd and dos'd.
When is the piece, you want, to be compos'd?
--John Hay
WHAT IS GIVEN TO FRIENDS IS NOT LOST
Martial
Your slave will with your gold abscond,
The fire your home lay low,
Your debtor will disown his bond
Your farm no crops bestow;
Your steward a mistress frail shall cheat;
Your freighted ship the storms will beat;
That only from mischance you'll save,
Which to your friends is given;
The only wealth you'll always have
Is that you've lent to heaven.
--_English Journal of Education_,
_Jan., 1856_
TO COTILUS
Martial
They tell me, Cotilus, that you're a beau:
What this is, Cotilus, I wish to know.
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