Book VII, Epigram 11: Ad Faustinum

(Faustinus) to let Caesar read my booke
With that same face he on my spots doth look.
As my Page hurts no one it justly hates,
I like no glory gain'd at blushrng rates.
What does it profit me? if others whet
Their spleen in my stile? and Jambiques sweat?
And in my name their viprous poyson vent?
Which cannot brook the day? or orient?
We blameless sport. Thou know'st it well, I swear
By Helicon, and every Genius there;
And by thy ears as dieties to mee,
Reader, I'me from inhumane envy free.