Book VIII, Epigram 28 (Ker)

Say, Toga, welcome gift to me of my eloquent friend, of what flock wouldst thou be the fame and glory? Did the Apulian herbage of Spartan Phalanthus flourish for thy sake, where Galaesus floods the tilth with Calabrian waters? or did Tartessian Baetis, nurse of H Iberian flocks, wash thee too on the back of a Spanish sheep? or has thy wool counted the mouths of many-cleft Timavus, whereof trusty Cyllarus, now amid the stars, once drank? Thee it beseemed not to darken with Spartan dye, nor was Miletus worthy to stain thy fleece. Lilies thou dost outshine, and privet yet unfallen, and the ivory that gleams white on Tibur's mount; Sparta's swan shall yield to thee and Paphian doves, there shall yield the pearl plucked out from Eastern shoals. Yet, albeit this gift vies with new fallen snow, 'tis not more dazzling white than Parthenius its giver. I could not more prize proud Babylon's painted tapestry embroidered by Semiramis' needle; no more should I admire myself in gold of Athamas, if thou, Phryxus, wert to give me the ram of Aeolus' son. Oh, what laughter will my worn cloak excite seen together with this toga from the Palatine!