Book VIII, Epigram 51 (Ker)

Whose labour is in the bowl? was it of artist Mys or of Myron? Is this Mentor's hand, or, Polyclitus, thine? No darkness gives it a dull leaden hue, nor is it a cloudy mass that shrinks from assaying fires. True amber is less radiant than its yellow ore, and the fine frosted silver surpasses snow-white ivory. The workmanship yields not to the material: even so the moon rounds her orb when she shines in fullness with all her light. There stands a he-goat prankt in the Aeolian fleece of Theban Phryxus; by such his sister would more gladly have been borne; such a goat no Cinyphian barber' would deform, and thou thyself, Lyaeus, wouldst consent to his cropping thine own vine. A Love in gold, two-winged, loads the back of the beast; the pipe of Pallas sounds from his tender lips; in such wise the dolphin, blithe with the burden of Methymnaean Arion, bore him, no unmelodious freight, o'er tranquil seas. Let no hand from the master's crowd of slaves, only thy hand, Cestus, first fill this peerless gift for me with fitting nectar; Cestus, the banquet's pride, mix thou the Setine: the very boy, the very goat, methinks, is athirst. Let the letters of Istantius Rufus' '' name assign their number to our measures of wine," for he was the source to me of so proud a gift. If Telethusa come, and bring her promised joys, I will keep myself for my mistress, Rufus, by drinking your four measures; if she be doubtful, I shall while away the time by seven; if she fail her lover, then, to throttle care, I will drink both your names.