To an Aged Cut-Up
Horace: Book III, Ode 15
“Uxor pauperis Ibyci,
Tandem nequiti4ae2 fige modum tu4ae2—”
IN CHLORIN
Dear Mrs. Ibycus, accept a little sound advice,
Your manners and your speech are overbold;
To chase around the sporty way you do is far from nice;
Believe me, darling, you are growing old.
Now Pholoë may fool around (she dances like a doe!)
A débutante has got to think of men;
But you were twenty-seven over thirty years ago—
You ought to be asleep at half-past ten.
O Chloris, cut the ragging and the roses and the rum—
Delete the drink, or better, chop the booze!
Go buy a skein of yarn and make the knitting needles hum,
And imitate the art of Sister Suse.
