You smile not; 'tis an every-day affair;
I need no doctor's, no, nor keeper's care:
Yet you're my patron, and would blush to fail
In taking notice of an ill-pared nail.
So, to sum up: the sage is half divine,
Rich, free, great, handsome, king of kings, in fine;
A miracle of health from toe to crown;
Mind, heart, and head, save when his nose runs down.
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II. To Lollius.
Trojani belli scriptorem.
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HILE you at Rome, dear Lollius, train your tongue,
I at Praeneste read what Homer sung:
What's good, what's bad, what helps, what hurts, he shows
Better in verse than Crantor does in prose.
The reason why I think so, if you'll spare
A moment from your business, I'll declare.
The tale that tells how Greece and Asia strove
In tedious battle all for Paris' love,
Talks of the passions that excite the brain
Of mad-cap kings and peoples not more sane.
