Book I, Epigram 49 (Ker)

You, a man worthy to be acclaimed by Celtiberian tribes, and the glory of our Spain, you, Licinianus, will see high-set Bilbilis, renowned for steeds and armour, and Caius with its aged snows, and sacred Vadavero on the rugged hills, and the pleasant grove of delightful Boterdus which blest Pomona loves. You will swim in the smooth shallows of tepid Congedus, and the mild lake of the Nymphs, and brace your limbs, by them relaxed, in shallow Salo that chills iron. There shall Vobesca's self provide her own wild beasts to be speared near by even while you lunch. The cloudless heat you, by boughs o'ershadowed, will assuage in golden Tagus' stream; your eager thirst icy Der-cenna will allay, and Nutha colder than the snows. But when hoar December and wild winter shall moan with the hoarse northern blast, you will repair to Tarraco's sunny shores and your own Laletania. There will you slay does enmeshed in yielding toils, and home-bred boars, and with your stout steed ride down the cunning hare, to your bailiff resign the stags. To your very hearth, ringed with unkempt boy-slaves, shall come down the neighbouring-wood; the hunter will be invited, and he will come as your guest when you shout for him hard by; nowhere will be seen the crescent shoe, nowhere the toga, and clothes smelling strong of purple dye; far off will be the odious Liburnian messenger, and querulous client; the haughty commands of widows will be far off; your deep slumber the pale defendant will not break, but all through the morning will you dream. Let another win the loud and frantic "bravo "; do you pity the" fortunate," and without pride enjoy true happiness, while your Sura earns applause. Not presumptuously doth life seek what remains to it when fame hath its sufficiency.