Nine times winter had end, nine times flush'd summer in harvest,
Ere to the world gave forth Cinna, the labour of years,
Zmyrna; but in one month Hortensius hundred on hundred
Verses, an unripe birth feeble, of hurry begot.
Zmyrna to far Satrachus, to the stream of Cyprus, ascendeth;
Zmyrna with eyes unborn study the centuries hoar.
Padus her own ill child shall bury, Volusius' annals;
In them a mackerel oft house him, a wrapper of ease.
Dear to my heart be a friend's unbulky memorial ever;
Cherish an Antimachus, weighty as empty, the mob.