DVDVM·EXISTIMO·QVOD·NVNC
DEMVM·FACTVM·EST·MIRARIS
FORTASSE·CVR·ANGLICE·RE
SCRIPSERIM·DESINES·MIRARI
CVM·DIXERO·SINE·FVCO·OPOR
TERE·POETA·ETIAM·VIVVS·NON
SOLVM·ACCOMMODEM·MEA·OPERA
AD·NORMAM·RECENTIORVM·TEM
PORVM·SED·ETIAM·VTAR·NEMPE
EA·LINGVA·QVAE·MAIORE·RE
SILIENDI·VT·ITA·DICAM·VI
PRAEDITA·VIDEATVR·VELIM
SINT·NOVI·VERSVS·TIBI·MVL
TO·IVCVNDIORES·QVAM·PRIS
CA·EXEMPLA
SCRIBEBAM·HELNGON
XVII·KAL·DEC
A NOTE FROM MR. FLACCUS
(Concerning the verses that follow.)
Dear B. L. T.:
You know my “pomes.” Well, old man, I was pretty young when I got them out of my system, and they seem rather raw to me now – I’m getting along, you know; so I’ve been thinking that I’d do ’em over again, file ’em down, as we used to say. Enclosed is the result of my labors.
I presume you are wondering why I have done them into United States; but you know perfectly well that a poet as much alive as I am to-day must not only keep up with the procession, but choose a thought-vehicle that has good springs to it – “beaucoup resiliency,” I s’pose you’d call it.
I hope you will like these new lines of mine better than their prototypes.
Yours regardfully,
Q. H. F.
Helngon, November 15.
I
TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS
“Integer vitæ scelerisque purus.”
Fuscus, old scout, if a guy’s on the level
That’s all the arsenal he’ll have to tote;
Up to St. Peter or down to the Devil,
No need to carry a gun in his coat.
Prowling around, as you know is my habit,
I met a wolf in the forest, and he
Beat it for Wolfville and ran like a rabbit.
(He was some wolf, too, receive it from me.)
Where I may happen to camp is no matter, —
Paris, Chicago, Ostend or St. Joe, —
Like the old dame in the nursery patter
I shall make music wherever I go.
Drop me in Dawson or chuck me in Cadiz,
Dump me in Kansas or plant me in Rome, —
I shall keep on making love to the ladies:
Where there’s a skirt is my notion of home.
II
DUETTO
“Donec gratus eram.”
HORACE:
What time my Lydia owned me lord
No Persian king had much on Horace;
And when you blew my bed and board
I was some sad, believe me, Mawruss.
LYDIA:
What time you loved no other She,
Before this Chloë person signed you,
I flourished like a green bay tree;
Now I’m the Girl You Left Behind You.
HORACE:
This Chloë dame that takes my eye
Has so peculiar an allurance
I would not hesitate to die
If she could cop my life insurance.
LYDIA:
Well, as for that, I know a gent
With whom it’s some delight to dally.
With me he makes an awful dent;
I’d perish once or twice for Cally.
HORACE:
Suppose our former love should go
Into a new de luxe edition?