An Invitation To Maecenas

Dear, noble friend! a virgin cask Of wine solicits your attention; And roses fair, to deck your hair, And things too numerous to mention. So tear yourself awhile away From urban turmoil, pride, and splendor, And deign to share what humble fare And sumptuous fellowship I tender. The sweet content retirement brings Smoothes out the ruffled front of kings. The evil planets have combined To make the weather hot and hotter; By parboiled streams the shepherd dreams Vainly of ice-cream soda-water. And meanwhile you, defying heat, With patriotic ardor ponder On what old Rome essays at home, And what her heathen do out yonder. Maecenas, no such vain alarm Disturbs the quiet of this farm! God in His providence obscures The goal beyond this vale of sorrow, And smiles at men in pity when They seek to penetrate the morrow. With faith that all is for the best, Let's bear what burdens are presented, That we shall say, let come what may, 'We die, as we have lived, contented! Ours is to-day; God's is the rest,-- He doth ordain who knoweth best.' Dame Fortune plays me many a prank. When she is kind, oh, how I go it! But if again she's harsh,--why, then I am a very proper poet! When favoring gales bring in my ships, I hie to Rome and live in clover; Elsewise I steer my skiff out here, And anchor till the storm blows over. Compulsory virtue is the charm Of life upon the Sabine farm!