Classic Poem

Friend may your woods where Dian roves
Grow still more fair for you,
Though oft you lop the leafy groves
May these their grace renew.
Rich olives in Tartessus grow,
Be yours more full and fine;
And your vast cisterns overflow
With pure and sweetest wine.
Let all admire that silver tongue
That court and forum sways,
And o'er your doors the palm be hung
To tell the victor's praise;
But let the Saturnalia bring
A little holiday,
Then hear these merry songs I sing
And polish them I pray —
" A parlous task," you say, " to tell
Plain truth to any bard!"
You love to hear the truth so well,
To tell it is not hard.