Book II, Epigram 90: Ad Quinctilianum

O thou great master of the youth of Rome
Quinctilian, the glory of the gowne!
Pardon though poor, nor struck in yeares, I hast
To live, since no man strives to live too fast:
Let him delay that's Fathers rents would raise,
And fill his house with shapes of antient days,
Me fire, and houses please smoakd with their steame,
A native sallet, and a living stream,
A bond-man serves my turne, an unlearnd wife,
A night with sleep, a day without all strife.