Sæpe oculos, memini, tangebam parvus olivo,
Grandia si nollem morituri verba Catonis
Dicere, non sano multum laudanda magistro,
Quæ pater adductis sudans audiret amicis.
Jure etenim id summum, quid dexter senio ferret
Scire, erat in voto: damnosa canicula quantum
Raderet, angustæ collo non fallier orcæ:
Neu quis callidior buxum torquere flagello.
Haud tibi inexpertum curvos deprendere mores,
Quæque docet sapiens braccatis inlita Medis
Porticus insomnis, quibus et detonsa juventus
Invigilat, siliquis, et grandi pasta polenta.
Et tibi quæ Samios diduxit littera ramos,
Surgentem dextro monstravit limite callem.
Stertis adhuc ? laxumque caput compage soluta
Oscitat hesternum dissutis undique malis?
Est aliquid quò tendis, et in quod dirigis arcum ?
An passim sequeris corvos, testaque, lutoque,
Securus quò pes ferat, atque ex tempore vivis?
Helleborum frustra, cum jam cutis ægra tumebit,
Trusting to none the secrets of his life,
Not ev'n confiding in his weeping wife?
Oft, when a boy, unwilling still to toil,
To shun my task, I smear'd my face with oil,
Great Cato's dying speech neglected lay,
And all my better thoughts to sport gave way;
With anxious friends my partial father came,
And sweating saw his son exposed to shame.
Alas, no pleasure then in books I knew,
But still with dextrous hand the dice I threw.
None with more art the rattling box could shake;
None reckon'd better on the envied stake;
None was more skill'd, along the level ground,
To drive the whirling top in endless round.
But you, what arts, what pleasures can entice,
To wander in the thorny paths of vice;
You, who so lately from the porch have brought
The godlike precepts, which great Zeno taught ;
You, who in schools of rigid virtue bred,
On simple fare with frugal sages fed,
Where watchful youth their silent vigils keep,
And midnight studies still encroach on sleep;
You, who have listen'd to instruction's voice,
And with the Samian sage have made your choice;
Are you content to lose life's early day,
Or pass existence in a dream away?
Ah, thoughtless youth, ere yet the fell disease
Blanch your pale cheek, and on its victim seize,
Poscentes videas: venienti occurrite morbo.
Et quid opus Cratero magnos promittere montes?
Discite ô miseri, et causas cognoscite rerum,
Quid sumus, et quidnam victuri gignimur, ordo
Quis datus, aut metæ quàm mollis flexus, et unde:
Quis modus argento, quid fas optare, quid asper
Utile nummus habet: patriæ, carisque propinquis
Quantum elargiri deceat: quem te Deus esse
Jussit, et humana qua parte locatus es in re.
Disce nec invideas, quod multa fidelia putet
In locuplete penu, defensis pinguibus Umbris,
Et piper, et pernæ, Marsi monumenta clientis:
Mænaque quod prima nondum defecerit orca
Heic aliquis de gente hircosa centurionum
Dicat, Quod sapio, satis est mihi : non ego curo
Esse quod Arcesilas, ærumnosique Solones,
Obstipo capite, et figentes lumine terram,
Murmura cum secum, et rabiosa silentia rodunt,
Apply the remedy, nor idly wait
Till hope be fled, and medicine come too late!
Contemplate well this theatre of man ;
Observe the drama, and its moral plan;
Study of things the causes and the ends;
Whence is our being, and to what it tends;
Of fortune's gifts appreciate the worth;
And mark how good and evil mix on earth :
Observe what stands as relative to you,
What to your country, parents, friends, is due.
Consider God as boundless matter's soul,
Yourself a part of the stupendous whole;
Think that existence has an endless reign,
Yourself a link in the eternal chain.
Weigh these things well, and envy not the stores
Which clients bring from Umbria's fruitful shores;
Forego, without regret, the noisy bar,
Its din, its wrangling, its unceasing war;
Forsake that place where justice has a price,
And may be bought for fish, or ham, or spice.
But here, perhaps, some blustering son of Mars,
Will treat my doctrine as an idle farce.-
"What," doth he cry, " do I not know enough,
"That I must listen to this learned stuff?
"I do not wish to be esteem'd a sage,
"Nor to be held the Solon of my age.
"I hate the dull philosopher who sits,
"Pores o'er his book, and talks and thinks by fits;
Atque exporrecto trutinantur verba labello,
Ægroti veteris meditantes somnia, gigni
De nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti.
Hoc est, quod palles: cur quis non prandeat, hoc est.
His populus ridet, multumque torosa juventus
Ingeminat tremulos naso crispante cachinnos.
Inspice: nescio quid trepidat mihi pectus, et ægris
Faucibus exsuperat gravis halitus, inspice sodes,
Qui dicit medico; jussus requiescere, postquam
Tertia compositas vidit nox currere venas,
De majore domo modicè sitiente lagena
Lenia loturo sibi Surrentina rogavit.
Heus bone, tu palles. Nihil est. Videas tamen istud,
Quicquid id est surgit tacitè tibi lutea pellis.
At tu deterius palles: ne sis mihi tutor :
Jampridem hunc sepeli: tu restas. Perge, tacebo.
Turgidus hic epulis, atque albo ventre, lavatur,
Gutture sulphureas lente exhalante mephites.
|