Page:Satires, Epistles, Art of Poetry of Horace - Coningsby (1874).djvu/140

 Takes burdens from the careworn, finds out parts In stupid folks, and teaches unknown arts. What tongue hangs fire when quickened by the bowl? What wretch so poor but wine expands his soul?
 * Meanwhile, I'm bound in duty, nothing both,

To see that nought in coverlet or cloth May give you cause to sniff, that dish and cup May serve you as a mirror while you sup; To have my guests well-sorted, and take care That none is present who'll tell tales elsewhere. You'll find friend Butra and Septicius here, Ditto Sabinus, failing better cheer: And each might bring a friend or two as well, But then, you know, close packing's apt to smell. Come, name your number, and elude the guard Your client keeps by slipping through the yard.



OT to admire, Numicius, is the best, The only way, to make and keep men blest. The sun, the stars, the seasons of the year That come and go, some gaze at without fear: