Book I, Epigram 3 (Ker)

Would you rather dwell in the shops of the Potters' Field although, small volume, my book-case stands empty for you? You don't know, alas, you don't know the superciliousness of Mistress Rome; believe me, the crowd of Mars is too clever for you. Nowhere are heard louder sneers; young men and old, even boys, have noses tilted like a rhinoceros. When you have heard a deep "Bravo," while you are throwing kisses, up you will go, shot heavenward from a jerked blanket. But you, to avoid your master's constant erasures, and the scoring of your playfulness by his critical pen, are eager, wanton one, to flit through the airs of heaven. Go! fly! yet you might have been safer at home.