Juv. Oh, fear not: thou canst never seek in vain A pathic friend, while these seven hills remain ; Hither in crowds the master-misses come

From every point, as to their proper

home.

One hope has fail'd; another may succeed:
Meanwhile, do thou on hot eringo feed.

Næv. Tell this to happier men; the Fates ne'er meant
Such luck for me; my Clotho is content,
When all my toil a bare subsistence gains,
And fills my belly by my back and reins.
Oh, my poor Lares! dear, domestic Powers!
To whom I come with incense, cakes, and flowers,
When shall my prayers, so long preferr'd in vain,
Acceptance find? Oh, when shall I obtain
Enough to free me from the constant dread
Of life's worst ill, gray hairs and want of bread ?
On mortgage, six-score pounds a year, or eight;
A little sideboard, which, for overweight,
Fabricius would have censured; a stout pair (142)
Of hireling Mosians, to support my chair
In the throng'd Circus: add to these, one slave
Well skill'd to paint, another to engrave;
And I—but let me give these day-dreams o'er,
Wish as I may, I ever shall be poor;
For when to Fortune I prefer my prayers,
The obdurate goddess stops at once her ears,—
Stops with that wax which saved Ulysses' crew,
When by the Syrens' rocks and songs they flew,-
False songs and treacherous rocks which all to ruin drew.

142. Livy tells us that C. Fabricius, when censor, removed Rufinus, who had been twice consul, and once dictator, from the senate, because he had in his possession more than ten pounds weight of plate: "esteeming this," as Holyday says, "a notorious example of luxury."

ON THE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES.

IN
In every clime, from Ganges' distant stream
To Gades, gilded by the western beam,
Few, from the clouds of mental error free,
In its true light or good or evil see—
For what, with reason, do we seek or shun?
What plan, how happily soe'er begun,
But, finish'd, we our own success lament,
And rue the pains so fatally mispent?—
To headlong ruin see whole houses driven,
Cursed with their prayers, by too indulgent heaven.
Bewilder'd thus by folly or by fate,

We beg pernicious gifts in every state,

In

peace, in war. A full and rapid flow Of eloquence lays many a speaker low. E'en strength itself is fatal; Milo tries His wondrous arms, and in the trial dies. (11) But avarice wider spreads her deadly snare, And hoards of wealth, amass'd with ceaseless care; Hoards, which o'er all paternal fortunes rise, As o'er the dolphin towers the whale in size. Hence, in those dreadful times, at Nero's word The ruffian bands unsheath'd the murderous sword, Rush'd to the swelling coffers of the great, And seized the rich domain and lordly seat; While sweetly in their cocklofts slept the poor, And heard no soldier thundering at their door. The traveller, freighted with a little wealth, Sets forth at night, and wins his way by stealth;

VER. 11. The story of Milo is told in two lines by Roscommon: -Remember Milo's end,

66

Wedg'd in the timber which he strove to rend."

Add, too, the bird that on the sceptre stands,
In act to soar, the cornets, and the bands

That lead the long parade; the friends in white,
That guide his steeds; friends, won to grace the sight,
By the glad prospect of-a dole at night!

Yes, in those times, in every varied scene
The good old man found matter for his spleen :
A wondrous sage! whose story makes it clear,
That men may rise in folly's atmosphere, (49)
Beneath Boeotian fogs, of soul sublime,
And great examples to the coming time.
He laugh'd aloud to see the vulgar fears,
Laugh'd at their joys, and sometimes at their tears;
Secure the while, he mock'd at Fortune's frown,
And, when she threaten'd, bade her hang or drown!
Superfluous then, or fatal, is the prayer,

Which to the Immortals' knees we fondly bear. (55)
Some, POWER hurls headlong from her envied height;
Some, the long scroll with titles, honours, bright, (57)
Sinks in the dust! The statues, tumbled down,
Are dragg'd by hooting thousands through the town;
The cars upturn'd, the beams and axles broke,
And guiltless steeds destroy'd by many a stroke!—
Then roar the fires; the sooty artist blows,
And all Sejanus in the furnace glows;
Sejanus, once so honour'd, so adored,
And only second to the world's great lord,

Boeotia lay under the same,

49. Democritus was born at Abdera, a town of Thrace, proverbial, it seems, for the stupidity of its inhabitants. or even a worse reproach: it was the country of 'hogs,' as the other was of sheep.' Pindar, who was a Boeotian, was a little mortified at

the proverb.

55. It was the manner of the ancients," says Holyday, "when they made their vows to the gods, to write them on paper, (and some on waxen tables,) seal them up, and with wax fasten them to the knees of the gods; the ancients accounting that the seat of mercy.

57. This is explained by the old Scholiast to be a plate of brass affixed to the statues of eminent persons, and containing a pompous enumeration of their titles, honours, &c.

Runs glitt'ring from the mould, in cups and cans,
And such mean things, plates, pitchers, pots, and pans.
"Crown all your doors with bay, triumphant bay!
Sacred to Jove, the milkwhite victim slay;

For lo! where great Sejanus by the throng,
A joyful spectacle, is dragg'd along.

What lips! what cheeks! ah, traitor! for my part,
I never loved this fellow-in my heart:

But tell me; why was he adjudged to bleed!
And who discover'd, and who proved the deed?"
"Proved!-a verbose epistle came to day

From Capreæ." "Good! what think the people?" They!
They follow fortune as of old, and hate

With their whole souls the victim of the state.
Yet would the herd, thus zealous, thus on fire,
(Had Nurscia met the Tuscan's fond desire, (74)
And crush'd the unwary prince,) have all combined,
And hail'd Sejanus, MASTER OF MANKIND!
For since their votes have been no longer bought,
All public care has vanish'd from their thought;
And those who once, with unresisted sway,
Gave armies, empire, every thing away,

For two poor claims have long renounced the whole,
And only ask-the Circus and the Dole. (81) 03
"But there are more to suffer?" "So 'tis said;
A fire so fierce, for one was scarcely made.

I met my friend Brutidius, and I fear,

From his pale looks, he thinks there's danger near.
What, if this Ajax, in his frenzy, strike,

As doubtful of our zeal, at all alike!

74. By the Tuscans, the Goddess Fortuna was named Nurscia. As Sejanus was a Tuscan, Lipsius conceives that there is some cleverness in giving her this name.

81. The Dole here mentioned must not be confounded with the sportuld already noticed; the latter was a private distribution, the former a pub. lic one. The suspicions in the next couplet were not ill-founded; for many adherents of Sejanus, and more suspected of being such, suffered death immediately after his fall.