From high Meonia's rocky shores I came, Of poor decsent, Acoetes is my name, My sire was measly born: no oxen ploughed, His fruitful fields, nor in his pastures lowed, His whole estate within the waters lay' With lines and hooks he caught the finny prey; His art was all his livelehood, which he Thus with his dying lips bequeathed to me: In streams, my boy, and rivers take thy chance; There swims', said he, Thy whole inheritance.

Dear to girls' hearts is their own beauty.

The sharp thorn often produces delicate roses.

It is the act of a coward to wish for death.

Wine prepares the heart for love, unless you take too much.

Anything cracked will shatter at a touch.

Envy, the meanest of vices, creeps on the ground like a serpent.