3. The Snowstorm in the Circus

The silent snow a fleece doth cast
On Caesar's breast and flecks his hair,
He scorns the frost and frozen blast
And humours Jove, half unaware.
Who spurned Bootes and the Bear
With dripping locks, may well defy
Those flakes—the toys his little heir
Has dropped while playing in the sky.
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Author of original: 
Martial
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