To His Slave. - Translations From Horace.
OD. i. 38. Persian grandeur I abhor; Linden-wreathed crowns, avaunt: Boy, I bid thee not explore Woods which latest roses haunt: Try on nought thy busy craft Save plain myrtle; so arrayed Thou shalt fetch, I drain, the draught Fitliest 'neath the scant vine-shade.
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"OD. i. 38...."
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