To Vinius Asella
Ut Proficiscentem
As I have told you oft, deliver these,
My sealed-up volumes, to Augustus, please,
Friend Vinius, if he's well and in good trim,
And (one proviso more) if asked by him:
Beware of over-zeal, nor discommend
My works, by playing the impetuous friend.
Suppose my budget, ere you get to town,
Should gall you, better straightway throw it down
Than, when you've reached the palace, fling the pack
With animal impatience from your back,
And so be thought in nature as in name
Tour father's colt, and made some joker's game.
Tour powers of tough endurance will avail
With brooks and ponds to ford and hills to scale:
But when you've quelled the perils of the road,
Take special care how you adjust your load:
Don't tuck beneath your arm these precious gifts,
As drunken Pyrrhia does the wool she lifts,
As rustics do a lamb, as humble wights
Their cap and slippers when asked out at nights.
Don't tell the world you've toiled and sweated hard
In carrying lays which Caesar may regard:
Push on, nor stop for questions. Now good bye;
But pray don't trip, and smash the poetry.
Ut Proficiscentem
As I have told you oft, deliver these,
My sealed-up volumes, to Augustus, please,
Friend Vinius, if he's well and in good trim,
And (one proviso more) if asked by him:
Beware of over-zeal, nor discommend
My works, by playing the impetuous friend.
Suppose my budget, ere you get to town,
Should gall you, better straightway throw it down
Than, when you've reached the palace, fling the pack
With animal impatience from your back,
And so be thought in nature as in name
Tour father's colt, and made some joker's game.
Tour powers of tough endurance will avail
With brooks and ponds to ford and hills to scale:
But when you've quelled the perils of the road,
Take special care how you adjust your load:
Don't tuck beneath your arm these precious gifts,
As drunken Pyrrhia does the wool she lifts,
As rustics do a lamb, as humble wights
Their cap and slippers when asked out at nights.
Don't tell the world you've toiled and sweated hard
In carrying lays which Caesar may regard:
Push on, nor stop for questions. Now good bye;
But pray don't trip, and smash the poetry.
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