HKB
And use the gestures of a man in dread. Be all attention: if the wind is brisk, Say, "Wrap that precious head up! run no risk!" Push shouldering through a crowd, the way to clear Before him; when he maunders, prick your ear. He craves for praise; administer the puff Till, lifting up both hands, he cries "Enough." But when, rewarded and released, at last You gain the end of all your service past, And, not in dreams but soberly awake, Hear "One full quarter let Ulysses take," Say, once or twice, "And is good Dama dead? Where shall I find his like for heart and head?" If possible, shed tears: at least conceal The tell-tale smiles that speak the joy you feel. Then, for the funeral: with your hands untied, Beware of erring upon meanness' side: No; let your friend be handsomely interred, And let the neighbourhood give you its good word. Should one of your co-heirs be old, and vexed With an inveterate cough, approach him next: A house or lands he'd purchase that belong To your estate: they're his for an old song. But Proserpine commands me; I must fly; Her will is law; I wish you health; good-bye.
SATIRE VI.
HOC ERAT IN VOTIS.
This used to be my wish: a bit of land, A house and garden with a spring at hand, And just a little wood. The gods have crowned My humble vows; I prosper and abound: Nor ask I more, kind Mercury, save that thou Wouldst give me still the goods thou giv'st me now: If crime has ne'er increased them, nor excess And want of thrift are like to make them less; If I ne'er pray like this, "O might that nook Which spoils my field be mine by hook or crook! O for a stroke of luck like his, who found A crock of silver, turning up the ground, And, thanks to good Alcides, farmed as buyer The very land where he had slaved for hire!" If what I have contents me, hear my prayer: Still let me feel thy tutelary care, And let my sheep, my pastures, this and that, My all, in fact, (except my brains,) be fat.