Such be no shame (Manius!): rather 'tis matter of ruth.Pardon me, then, wilt thou an gifts bereft me by grievingThese I send not to thee since I avail not present. For, that I own not here abundant treasure of writingsHas for its cause, in Rome dwell I; and there am I homed,There be my seat, and there my years are gathered to harvest;Out of book-cases galore here am I followed by one. This being thus, nill I thou deem 'tis spirit malignantActs in such wise or mind lacking of liberal mood That to thy prayer both gifts be not in plenty supplièd:Willingly both had I sent, had I the needed supply.Nor can I (Goddesses!) hide in what things Allius sent meAid, forbear to declare what was the aidance he deigned:Neither shall fugitive Time from centuries ever obliviousVeil in the blinds of night friendship he lavisht on me.But will I say unto you what you shall say to the manyThousands in turn, and make paper, old crone, to proclaimAnd in his death become noted the more and the more,