Epistles 1.11 (Creech): Quid Tibi Visa Chios

BUllatus, how did pretty Samos show,
Chios and stately Sardis, let me know,
If They are such as Fame reports, or no?
Or can you find more pretty things at home?
Are all these places mean compar'd to Rome?
Or else doth some Attalian City please,
Or Lebedus, where tir'd with boist'rous Seas,
And tedious Roads, You first sat down to ease?
Now Desert Lebedus contains but few,
And less than Gabii or Fidenoe knew.
Yet there my days I with Content could spend,
Forget, and be forgot by every Friend.
There safe at shore see Winds and Storms engage,
And smile from Land at distant Neptune's rage:
But he that comes to Rome thro Rain and Mire,
Would not live always by a Kitchin Fire.
And he that's cold commends not Baths and Heat,
As if they made a happy life compleat.
Nor 'cause Storms toss should'st thou straight seek thy ease,
And sell thy Ship beyond Aegaean Seas.
Fair Mytelene will prove as great a good
To Men of sober Minds, as Tyber's Flood
To Swimmers, when cold Winds severely blow,
As Freeze in Summer, Silks in Frost and Snow.
Whilst Fortune smiles, and gives Thee happy days,
Chios at Rome, and absent Samos praise.
Take thankfully those hours the Gods shall give;
Use whilst you may, and be not slow to live.
For if 'tis Reason, and not change of Air,
That brings soft Rest, and frees our Souls from Care,
Those that beyond Sea go shall sadly find,
They change their Climate only, not their Mind.
A busie idleness destroys our ease,
We Ride and Sail to seek for happiness.
Yet what we seek with every Tide and Wind,
We can e'en here, or at Ulubra find,
If we can have but a contented Mind.