Virgil Eclogue 6 (beginning)

ca. 42-39 B.C.

When I began as a poet, my Muse was not ashamed
to live in the woods and dally with lightweight pastoral verse.
When I started to sing of rulers and battles, Apollo tweaked my ear
and told me, "Tityrus, a countryman should be
concerned to put flesh on his sheep and keep his poetry spare."
Now, Varus (since there’ll be bards in plenty desiring to tell
your fame and celebrate the sorrowful theme of war)
I shall take up a slim reed pipe and play a rustic song—
I don’t sing what I’m told not to, but if any there will be who’ll fall
in love with this little poem, it is you, Varus,
our tamarisks and all our woods will be singing of. No page
could charm Apollo more than a page inscribed "to Varus."

Callimachus, from the prologue to the Aetia ("Causes")

ca. 250 B.C.

When first I placed the writing tablets on my knees,
Lycian Apollo spoke these words to me:
"[...........] poet, feed the animal for sacrifice to be as fat
as possible, but, friend, keep your Muse slender.
This as well I command you: tread a path not flattened
by wagons, do not drive your chariot over the tracks
of others, or along a wide road, but across untrodden
ways, though your course be narrower.
For we sing among those who love the clear sound
of the cicada, not the ass’s [............] noise."