Obrazy na stronie
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Cum sapimus patruos: tunc, tunc, ignoscite. Nolo:
Quid faciam ? sed sum petulanti splene cachinno.
Scribimus inclusi, numeros ille, hic pede liber,
Grande aliquid, quod pulmo animæ prælargus anhelet.
Scilicet hæc populo, pexusque togaque recenti,
Et natalitia tandem cum sardonyche albus,
Sede leges celsa, liquido cum plasmate guttur
Mobile conlueris, patranti fractus ocello.
Heic, neque more probo videas, neque voce serena,
Ingentes trepidare Titos, cum carmina lumbum
Intrant, et tremulo scalpuntur ubi intima versu.
Tun' vetule auriculis alienis colligis escas?
Auriculis, quibus et dicas cute perditus, ohe.
Quò didicisse, nisi hoc fermentum, et quæ semel intus
Innata est, rupto jecore exierit caprificus ?

En pallor, seniumque. ô mores! usque adeone

Triumphant vice and folly bearing sway,
With doting age and vanity grown grey.
M. But imitate the rest. See, they compose,
In secret, polish'd verse, and sounding prose.
P. Until, at length, demanded by the crowd,
The turgid nonsense be rehearsed aloud,
See, at the desk the pale declaimer stand;
The ruby beaming on his lily hand;
Behind his back his wanton tresses flow;
With Tyrian dyes his splendid garments glow;
His pliant throat the liquid gargle clears;
His languid eye lasciviously leers;

The voice accords with the luxurious mien, The look immodest, with the tongue obscene: Around him close the splendid circle draws, Loud is the laugh, tumultuous the applause; And Rome's first nobles, vanquish'd by his lyre, Tremble with lusts which his lewd lays inspire. And you, old dotard, do you waste your days, That fools, at length, may surfeit you with praise ? Old M. "What, shall we live despised, without a name, "Callous to glory, and unknown to fame? "As the wild fig-tree walls and columns cleaves, "And clads the ruin with its mantling leaves; "So all restraint indignant genius scorns, "Luxuriant spreads, and as it spreads adorns." P. Lo, what decrepid age for fame endures! Lo, the pale victim whom her voice allures! No of health illumes your languid eye, And on your cheek youth's faded roses die.

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Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter?
At pulchrum est digito monstrari, et dicier, hic est.
Ten' cirratorum centum dictata fuisse

Pro nihilo pendas? ecce inter pocula quærunt
Romulidæ saturi, quid dia poëmata narrent.

Heic aliquis, cui circum humeros hyacinthina læna est,
Rancidulum quiddam balba de nare locutus,
Phyllidas, Hypsipylas, vatum et plorabile si quid,
Eliquat; et tenero supplantat verba palato.
Assensere viri: nunc non cinis ille poëtæ
Felix? non levior cippus non imprimit ossa?
Laudant convivæ: nunc non è manibus illis,
Nunc non è tumulo, fortunataque favilla,
Nascentur viola? rides, ait, et nimis uncis
Naribus indulges: an erit qui velle recuset
Os populi meruisse : et cedro digna locutus,
Linquere nec scombros metuentia carmina, neç thus !
Quisquis es, ô modo quem ex adverso dicere feci,
Non ego, cum scribo, si fortè quid aptius exit,

Yet you, O times! O manners! toil for fame,
And value knowledge only for its name.

Old M. "But still, 'tis fine to be admired and known, "To gazing strangers by the finger shown."

P. Truly 'tis fine, that fools extol your art,
That lisping schoolboys learn your songs by heart;
That when the flush'd voluptuary sups,

He celebrates your name amidst his cups.
Here one there is, in purple clad, whose Muse
Collects the rancid offals of the stews;

In drawling snivelling song, delights to tell
How Phyllis loved, how constant, and how well;
Or mourns Hypsipyle's unhappy doom,

By Jason quitted in her early bloom.

Sure, when this favour'd bard at length shall die, On his bless'd bones the turf shall lightly lie, Unfading laurel shall o'ershade the ground, And sweetest violets breathe incense round. But our offended poet stops us here, Condemns the satire, and reproves the sneer. "Who lives," he asks, “insensible to praise, "Deserves, and yet neglects the proffer'd bays? "Who is not pleased, that from the bookworm's rage "The juice of cedar shall preserve his page? "That page, esteem'd even to its author's wish, "Kept sacred still from frankincense or fish?" O thou, whate'er thy name, whoe'er thou art, Whom I suppose upon the adverse part, Think not, when well, if ever well, I write, I feel from praise no genuine delight:

Quando hæc rara avis est, si quid tamen aptius exit,
Laudari metuam: neque enim mihi cornea fibra est :
Sed recti, finemque, extremumque, esse recuso
EUGE tuum, et BELLE, nam belle hoc excute totum:
Quid non intus habet? Non heic est Ilias Acci
Ebria veratro? non si qua elegidia crudi
Dictarunt proceres? non quicquid denique lectis
Scribitur in citreis? calidum scis ponere sumen:
Scis comitem horridulum trita donare lacerna :
Et, verum, inquis, amo; verum mihi dicite de me.
Qui pote? vis dicam? nugaris, cum tibi calve
Pinguis aqualiculus propenso sesquipede exstet.
O Jane, à tergo quem nulla ciconia pinsit,
Nec manus auriculas imitata est mobilis albas,
Nec linguæ, quantum sitiat canis Appula, tantæ.
Vos ô patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est
Occipiti cæco, posticæ occurrite sannæ.

Quis populi sermo est? quis enim ? nisi carmina molli
Nunc demum numero fluere, ut per lêve severos
Effundat junctura ungues: scit tendere versum
Non secus, ac si oculo rubricam dirigat uno:

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