Horace: Epode 14

"Mollis inertia cur tantam diffuderit imis"


Maecenas, you fret me, you worry me 
Demanding I turn out a rhyme; 
Insisting on reasons, you hurry me; 
You want my Iambics on time. 
You say my ambition's diminishing; 
You ask why my poem's not done. 
The god it is keeps me from finishing 
The stuff I've begun.

Be not so persistent, so clamorous. 
Anacreon burned with a flame 
Candescently, crescently amorous. 
You rascal, you're doing the same! 
Was no fairer the flame that burned Ilium. 
Cheer up, you're a fortunate scamp, 
. . . Consider avuncular William 
And Phryne, the vamp.