Good comrades, Julius, have we been, And four-and-thirty harvests seen: We have had sweetness mixed with sour; Yet oftener came the happy hour. If for each day a pebble stood, And either black or white were hued, Then, ranged in masses separate, The brighter ones would dominate. If thou wouldst shun some heartaches sore, And ward off gloom that gnaws thy core, Grapple none closely to thy heart: If less thy joy, then less thy smart. GIFTS TO FRIENDS ARE NOT LOST A cunning thief may rob your money-chest, And cruel fire lay low an ancient home; Debtors may keep both loan and interest; Good seed may fruitless rot in barren loam. A guileful mistress may your agent cheat, And waves engulf your laden argosies; But boons to friends can fortune's slings defeat: The wealth you give away will never cease. ON MAKING THE BEST OF LIFE Julius, in friendship's scroll surpassed by none, If life-long faith and ancient ties may count, Nigh sixty consulates by thee have gone: The days thou hast to live make small amount. Defer not joys them mayst not win from fate Judge only what is past to be thine own. Cares with a linkéd chain of sorrows wait. Mirth tarries not; but soon on wing is flown. With both hands hold it--clasped in full embrace, Still from thy breast it oft will glide away! To say, "I mean to live," is folly's place: To-morrow's life comes late; live, then, to-day. A DAY IN ROME (First Century A.D.) The first two hours Rome spends on morning calls, And with the third the busy lawyer bawls. Into the fifth the town plies varied tasks; The sixth, siesta; next hour closing asks. The eighth sees bath and oil and exercise; The ninth brings guest on dining-couch who lies. The tenth is claimed for Martial's poetry, When you, my friend, contrive high luxury To please great Cæsar, and fine nectar warms The mighty hand that knows a wine-cup's charms. Eve is the time for jest: with step so bold My muse dare not at morn great Jove behold. BOREDOM, VERSUS ENJOYMENT If you and I, dear Martial, might Enjoy our days in Care's despite, And could control each leisure hour, Both free to cull life's real flower, Then should we never know the halls Of patrons or law's wearying calls, Or troublous court or family pride; But we should chat or read or ride, Play games or stroll in porch or shade, Visit the hot baths or "The Maid." Such haunts should know us constantly, Such should engage our energy. Now neither lives his life, but he Marks precious days that pass and flee. These days are lost, but their amount Is surely set to our account. Knowledge the clue to life can give; Then wherefore hesitate to live? THE HAPPY LIFE