Epistles 1.12 (Creech): Fructibus Agrippae

IF You can use Agrippa's vast Estate,
Which now you manage, 'tis the height of Fate,
Not Jove himself could give a greater store,
Tho grown profuse; my Friend complain no more,
He that hath things for use is never poor.
If Thou hast cleanly Food and Cloaths enough,
What more than this can kingly Wealth bestow?
If at full Tables stor'd with dainty meat
You can contain, and Herbs and Mallows eat,
Thus thou wilt live, if prodigal of her store,
The Golden Streams of Fortune guild Thee o're:
'Cause Mony cannot Natures stamp deface,
And all things you below true Vertue place:
Why should we wonder, is it strange to find,
Democritus grown poorer, whilst his mind
Was gone abroad, and left his Limbs behind?
Whilst You thro Clogs of gain can nobly climb,
And midst dull Avarice think on Things Sublime?
What bounds the raging Sea, what rules the Year,
Whether by their own force the Planets err,
Or some Superior Guide; what spreads the Night?
What hides the Moon? What fills her face with Light?
What disagreeing Seeds of Things can make,
The Stoicks or Empedocles mistake.
Whatever Life you live, or Fishes drest,
Or Leeks and Onions pill'd do make your Feast?

Be kind, let Pompey Grosphius be your Guest.
What he shall ask (he'll ask but little) grant,
Friends are in small esteem where good Men want.

But now to tell how Rome's Affairs stand,
Cantabria yields to stout Agrippa's hand;
Armenia Claudius Nero's Courage feels,
The haughty Parthian now to Caesar kneels:
And Golden plenty with a bounteous hand,
Rich Harvests freely scatters o're our Land.