IX.

Epitaph of Cleonicus.

Man, husband existence: ne'er launch on the sea Out of season: our tenure of life is but frail. Think of poor Cleonicus: for Phasos sailed he From the valleys of Syria, with many a bale: With many a bale, ocean's tides he would stem When the Pleiads were sinking; and he sank with them.

For a Statue of the Muses.

To you this marble statue, maids divine, Xenocles raised, one tribute unto nine. Your votary all admit him: by this skill He gat him fame: and you he honours still.