id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
horace-works_116		horace-works_116			.txt	text/plain	202	11	78	EPODES. ODE XIII. TO A FRIEND A horrible tempest has condensed the sky, and showers and snows bring down the atmosphere: now the sea, now the woods bellow with the Thracian North wind. Let us, my friends, take occasion from the day; and while our knees are vigorous, and it becomes us, let old age with his contracted forehead become smooth. Do you produce the wine, that was pressed in the consulship of my Torquatus. Forbear to talk of any other matters. The deity, perhaps, will reduce these[ present evils], to your former[ happy] state by a propitious change. Now it is fitting both to be bedewed with Persian perfume, and to relieve our breasts of dire vexations by the lyre, sacred to Mercury. There[ then] by wine and music, sweet consolations, drive away every symptom of hideous melancholy."	./cache/horace-works_116.txt	./txt/horace-works_116.txt