If you never have bathed with Etruscus, my friend,
Then you'll die still unbathed when you come to your end.
No waters are quite so alluring, you'll own:
Not the founts of Aponus to maidens unknown,
Or soft Sinuessa, or Passer's hot stream,
Proud Anxur, or Phoebus, or Baiae supreme.
Nowhere so serene is the light the sun pours,
Nowhere does the day last for so many hours.
Green slabs from Taygetus and African stone
Contend with the marble in Phrygia hewn,
While rich alabaster deliciously warm
Adds its glow to the snake-stone's peculiar charm.
If you like Spartan methods, first try their dry heat,
Then a plunge where the Virgo and Marcia meet;
For the water's so bright and the stone shines so clear
You would never suspect any water was there.
Here, dash it: wake up: listen: don't shut your eye.
Very well: you will never have bathed when you die.