While that sharp footboy envies you the use
Of what my garden, flocks, and woods produce.
The horse would plough, the ox would draw the car.
No; do the work you know, and tarry where you are.
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XV. To C. Numonius Vala.
Quæ sit hiems Veliæ.
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F Velia and Salernum tell me, pray,
The climate, and the natives, and the way:
For Baiæ now is lost on me, and I,
Once its staunch friend, am turned its enemy,
Through Musa's fault, who makes me undergo
His cold-bath treatment, spite of frost and snow.
Good sooth, the town is filled with spleen, to see
Its myrtle-groves attract no company;
To find its sulphur-wells, which forced out pain
From joint and sinew, treated with disdain
By tender chests and heads, now grown so bold,
They brave cold water in the depth of cold,
And, finding down at Clusium what they want,
Or Gabii, say, make that their winter haunt.
Yes, I must change my quarters; my good horse
Must pass the inns where once he stopped of course.
