Not a penny from Fabius, though every year,
Fifty pounds' worth of presents you gave!
Never mind: we are all in the same boat, I fear,
And in future that money you'll save.

As though, O shame, it did not him suffice
To prostitute our youths to venal vice,
The pander seized our cradles for his prey
And forced young babes to earn him shameful pay,
Till Rome's great father wrathful at the sight
Saved the poor children from their monstrous plight;
E'en as to youths he lately gave his aid
Lest they by cruel lust be sterile made.
Boys, youths, and elders loved thee, Sire, before:
Now infants too thy majesty adore.

Now you're home from your travels in lands far away,
For a week I've been wanting to bid you good-day.
" He's engaged," " he's asleep"; that has been my reply:
That's enough; if you won't have — " good-day," here's — " good-bye."

Thee , O world-father who with conquering sword
The Rhine hast humbled, O most modest lord,
The cities thank for people: in thy time
To bring forth children is at last no crime.
No boy, polluted by a pander's art,
Mourns for his manhood now, no mother's heart
Is wrung by grief when to her child she shows
The pittance which the haughty pimp allows.
The shame our marriage-beds had lost, by thee
Even in brothels we begin to see.

Clever Jenny wants to wed,
Wants to marry Joe.
Master Joseph shakes his head:
Joe is clever too.

A COUPLE of pound hasn't much of a sound, but for everyday use it's enough;
If you want something more you will have to pay four and for that you get really hot stuff.
Some people give ten, but the inference then is of black-mailers they are afraid,
And betwixt you and me, as I think you'll agree, what they pay for is — " Not a word said ."

Were you, great Sire, from heaven to reclaim
All you have given, a creditor in name,
Though great Olympus were put up for sale
And the gods auctioned, naught would it avail —
Atlas would bankrupt go, nor Tonans get
A shilling in the pound to pay his debt.
How could he settle for the Capitol
Or for his shrine with oak-leaf garlands full?
Pallas I leave; she shares with you, we know:
But what must Juno for two temples owe?
And then the twins, Alcides and Apollo,
The Flavian chapel — and there's more to follow.

On us you've not a farthing to expend,
But oh, how generous to your lady friend!
On dainty cakes and pastries she is fed,
Your guest has only black and musty bread;
For her iced wine is poured of vintage rare,
For him a muddy acid ordinaire;
You sell a farm her favours to command
For one short hour; your friend tills alien land.
She flaunts in priceless Orient pearls — and yet
Your client haled away is sold for debt;
Eight Syrian slaves the minx's litter bear,
Your needy friend a pauper's bier will share:

While Janus gives his name to winter's tide;
While from Domitian autumn gains new pride,
As summer from Augustus; while the day
Of the Germanic Kalends marks our sway
O'er conquered Rhine; while Jove's rock-temple stands,
And matrons come with prayer and suppliant hands
Worship to pay to Julia divine;
So long shall last the mighty Flavian shrine,
With sun and stars coeval and with Rome,
Work of unconquered hand, the heaven its home.

Fame is your right, O noble soul,
Though you reject your due
Till Death, defying your control,
Shall force the crown on you.
Meantime may this quatrain I send
Beneath my bust proclaim
'Twas you that chose to set your friend
With bards of noblest name.

Reader, I gained what I desired,
The palm for lighter verse,
And if you hold me not inspired
You love me none the worse.
Let others claim the epic rage,
The seers of lofty dreams,
While men unwearied con my page
That trills on little themes.