When the wise Senecas adorned our age
And Piso's house with all its lineage,
To those great patrons you I did prefer;
You, a poor knight, to me a consul were.
Full thirty years have passed since that first day
When you and I on the same pallet lay;
And now you're rich, an honoured magistrate,
With brimming purse:—yet still your gifts I wait.
The time has gone another lord to find;
Had Fortune known, she had not been so kind.