Oh Nepos, twice my neigh(b)our (since at home We’re door by door, by Flora’s temple dome; And in the country, still conjoined by fate, Behold our villas standing gate by gate),
Thou hast a daughter, dearer far than life— Thy image and the image of thy wife. Thy image and thy wife’s, and be it so! But why for her, neglect the flowing O Nepos, leave the can And lose the prime of thy Falernian?
Hoard casks of money, if to hoard be thine; But let thy daughter drink a younger wine! Let her go rich and wise, in silk and fur; Lay down a bin that shall vintage to grow old with her;
But thou, meantime, the while the batch is sound, With pleased companions pass the bowl around; Nor let the childless only taste delights, For Fathers also may enjoy their nights.