Epistles 1.4 (Creech): Albi, Nostrorum

ALbus, the fairest Critic that I know,
What shall I say that you are doing now?
In Pedan fields do you design to write,
More great than Cassius, and with higher flight?
Or dost thou gravely walk the healthy Wood,
Considering what befits the Wise and Good?
For You are not all Body, void of Mind,
The Gods have given a Soul of Noble kind;
And Wealth and Skill enough to use thy Store:
What could a Nurse for her dear Child wish more?
Than that He might be Sober whilst He lives,
And able to express what He conceives:
Enjoy the Love of all, and Fame and Health,
And cleanly Diet, with sufficient Wealth?
Whilst mid'st strong hopes and fears thy time doth wast,
Think every rising Sun will be thy last;
And so the grateful unexpected Hour
Of Life prolong'd, when come, will please the more:
Then come and see me, now grown plump and fine,
When you would laugh at one of Epicurus Swine.