Book VI, Epigram 80 (Ker)

As a novel gift to you, Caesar, the land of Nile had proudly sent winter roses. The sailor from Memphis scoffed at the gardens of Egypt when he first trod on the threshold of your city, so rich was the beauty of spring and the charm of fragrant Flora, so rich the glory of Paestan fields; so ruddy, where'er he turned his wandering footsteps or his eyes, was every path with twining roses. But do thou, bidden now to yield to a Roman winter, send us thy harvests, receive, O Nile, our roses.