Book IX, Epigram 71 (Ker)

A lion, the renown of Massylian hills, and the husband of the fleecy flock, have allied themselves in wondrous confidence. You may yourself see them: they are stalled in one pen, and each with the other takes his social meal; they relish not the breed of the woods, nor harmless herbs, but a young lamb sates their friendly hunger. What was the merit of the terror of Nemea, what of the carrier of Helle, that they should glow, the tall sky's lustrous signs? If both sheep and wild beasts could win by merit to heaven, this ram, this lion were worthy to become stars.