Classic Poem

Satire VI

This was the summit of my views,
A little piece of land to use,
Where was a garden and a well,
Near to the house in which I dwell,
And something of a wood above.
The Gods in their paternal love
Have more and better sent than these,
And, Mercury, I rest at ease,
Nor ask I anything beside,
But that these blessings may abide.
If I cannot my conscience charge,
That I by fraud my wealth enlarge,
Nor am about by fond excess
To make my little matters less;
If I am not a fool in grain,
To make such wishes weak and vain,
" O that I cou'd that nook command
That mars the beauty of my land!
O where there lies a pot of gold,
Might I by some good God be told!
Like him who having treasure found,
No longer till'd, but bought the ground!
With Hercules so much his friend!" —
If for what I possess, or spend,
No mean unthankful mind I bear,
I supplicate you with this pray'r:
May every thing I have be fat,
My servants, cattle, dog, and cat,
All but my genius — and be still
My guardian, if it is your will!
Wherefore, when I from town retreat
To these my mounts, and lofty seat,
How can I of my time dispose
Better than in this measur'd prose?
Here neither worldly pride destroys,
Nor pressure of South wind annoys,
Or sickly Autumn, still the gain
Of Libitina's baleful reign.
O early sire, or Janus hight,
(If that name more your ears delight)
With whom men all their toils commence
In life (for so the Gods dispense)
Do thou thyself begin the song —
At Rome you hurry me along
To give in bail — dispatch me there
Lest some one else shou'd do th'affair.
Well — tho' aground the North wind blow,
Or winter brings the days of snow
To shorter compass — I must go —
About myself to over-reach —
When I in form have made my speech,
At once determinate and loud,
Why I must bustle in the croud,
Sure all slow walkers to offend —
What, are you mad? what mean you, friend?
(Some swearing fellow's apt to say)
You jostle all things in your way,
While in post-haste you must be sped,
With great Maecenas in your head —
This does , and is too by the bye —
A sugar-plumb — I will not lye —
But ere I reach th'Esquilian gloom,
I'm charg'd with all th'affairs of Rome.
" Roscius desires you, as a friend,
The court-house early to attend;
The clerks beseech you wou'd return,
Upon a thing of vast concern;
Take care Maecenas seal and sign
To this same instrument of mine."
I will endeavour , shou'd one say,
They'll answer, if you will, you may,
And still keep urging, as before —
'Tis now the seventh year or more,
Since to Maecenas I was known,
And freely number'd as his own,
So far as one he chose to raise
Just to the honour of his chaise,
Conversing as he took his tour,
About such trifles — What's the hour?
Say is Gallina, who's from Thrace,
A match for Syrus face to face?
These morning frosts are very bad
For those who are but thinly clad,
Or any thing, that comes in play,
Which one to leaky ears may say.
E'er since this fortunate event,
Th'invidious sons of discontent
Daily increase — " This friend of ours,
On whom her favours fortune show'rs,
A place with great Maecenas claims,
With him was present at the games,
Plays in the field with him at ball." —
Ah, lucky rogue! cries one and all —
Does any bad disheart'ning news,
Its influence thro' the streets diffuse:
Whoe'er I meet consults with me.
" Good Sir, (for sure you must be he,
Who all th'affairs of state must know,
As nearer to the gods below)
Ought do you of the Dacians hear?"
No — not a syllable — " you jeer:"
May all the gods afflict my heart,
If I know either whole or part. —
" Well — then will Caesar give the lands,
He promis'd to his chosen bands,
In Sicily or here, I pray?"
The more I swear, I cannot say —
The more they stare, they cannot sound
A man so close and so profound! —
Thus do I lose my time and ease,
Not without wishes such as these —
O rural scenes! when shall I see
Your beauties, and again be free
Now with those ancient books I chose,
With leisure now, and soft repose,
In grateful thoughtlessness to drown
The anxious business of the town?
When shall Pythagoras his beans,
With bacon, and well-larded greens
Be plac'd before me? O ye nights!
Of suppers and divine delights,
In which within my proper pale
I and my bosom friends regale;
And make ev'n saucy knaves partake
Of those libations that I make.
Each guest according as it suits
May take the glass, no one disputes,
Whether the strong the bumper chuse,
Or weaker chearfully refuse.
A conversation then begins
Not on our neighbours wealth or sins,
Or whether Lepos preference claim
For dancing? — but what's more our aim,
And what 'tis evil not to know —
If happiness from riches flow,
Or be not rather virtue's prize,
And which it is cement the ties
Of friendship — rectitude or gain,
And what is real good in grain,
And how perfection to attain?
Mean time my neighbour Cervius prates
Old tales, that rise from our debates;
For if a man who does not know
The world, his eulogy bestow
On great Arellius' cumbrous store,
He instantly sets off — " Of yore
A country mouse, as it befel,
Received a cit into his cell,
One chrony to another kind
As intimate time out of mind;
This mouse was blunt and giv'n to thrift,
But now and then cou'd make a shift
(However rigid or recluse)
With open heart to give a loose:
In short he wou'd not grudge his guest
Or oats or vetches of the best:
And bringing in some berries dried,
With nibbled scrap of ham beside,
Hop'd he variety might plead
To make his daintiness recede,
For our grandee wou'd scarcely touch
The things, his squeamishness was such. —
Mean time the master of the treat
Extended on clean straw wou'd eat
Nothing but tares and crusts, to spare
For his good friend the nobler fare.
At length the citizen made free
To speak his mind — " my friend, (said he)
How can your mouse-ship hold it good,
To live here on a rugged wood,
And how have patience with the place!
Will you not rather turn your face
To view mankind, the town prefer
To these rough scenes that here occur?
Come take my counsel and agree
To make a tour along with me.
Since mortal lives must have an end,
And death all earthly things attend,
Nor is there an escape at all
For man or mouse, for great or small;
Wherefore, good friend, these matters weigh,
And let us for our time be gay,
Let life's contracted period teach
Mice to live jollily " — This speech
Soon as it on the peasant wrought,
He nimbly springs from forth his grot,
Then both the destin'd journey take
By midnight gloom their jaunt to make:
And now about that time each mouse
Took refuge in a wealthy house,
Where gorgeous carpets crimson-red
Look'd splendid on each ivory bed:
Where many a bit, in many a tray,
Was left from feast of yesterday.
He having then the peasant set
Upon a purple coverlet,
Runs like my landlord here and there —
Dish after dish with dainty fare,
And like a handy footman serves,
First tasting every thing he carves.
The clown by no means making strange
Begins to chuckle at the change,
And lying on the couch at ease
Lives merrily on all he sees.
But on a sudden, with a roar,
Bang open flies the folding door,
And frights our gutlers from their cheer —
Now round the room half-dead with fear,
They scout — new terrors still abound,
With barking dogs the roofs resound.
Then (quoth the clown) I have no call
For such a life as this at all;
My cave and wood be still my share,
There rather let me skulk from care,
And live upon a single tare."