Luxurious architecture invariably provides the counterpoint between the moral poet and the immoral rich (Pearcy 1977:776).

More durable than bronze, higher than Pharaoh’s
Pyramids is the monument I have made,
A shape that angry wind or hungry rain
Cannot demolish, nor the innumerable
Ranks of the years that march in centuries.
I shall not wholly die: some part of me
Will cheat the goddess of death, for while High Priest
And Vestal climb our Capitol in a hush,
My reputation shall keep green and growing.
 
Horace Odes III.30.1-10 (Penguin 1970 - ed. James Michie)

  No gold or ivory gleams
On panelled ceilings in my house; no marble beams
  Hewn on Hymettus press
Great columns quarried from the Libyan wilderness;
  No eastern millionaire
Ever made me his palace’s unwitting heir;
  No well-born ladies dressed
In Spartan purple wait on me. Yet I am blessed
  With honesty and a streak
Of golden talent, and, though poor, rich people seek
Me out. ……

Horace Odes II.18.1-11. (Penguin 1970 - ed. James Michie)

Horace is also not beyond telling us that he too is not only rich but also talented and free from envy.

But I am rich too: Fate, an honest patron,
Has given me a small farm, an ear fine-tuned to
The Grecian Muses, and a mind from vulgar
Envy aloof.

Horace Odes II.16.37-40. (Penguin 1970 - ed. James Michie)

In the first poem of Book III of the Odes Horace goes even further and describes himself as a poet priest standing in resilient opposition to the profane excesses of the rich.

I have no use for secular outsiders,
I bar the gross crowd. Give me reverent silence.
  I am the Muses’ priest:
I sing for maidens and for boys grave verses

Unheard before. Earth’s kings may awe their own flocks,
But kings themselves are under Jove, the glorious
  Conqueror of the Giants,
Who with and eyebrow moves the universe. (lines 1-8)