M<jf^,/^^Vci 
 
 ifornia 
 )nal 
 
 Lty
 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD

 
 WORKS or KORACEr 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 PHILIP FRANCIS, D. D.
 
 Biiissiia^a^^ •"■'■'AN' '.K>i 
 
 Puhi'hit <Xh^%X(Hlork
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS OF HORACE, 
 
 TRAI^SLATED 
 
 BY PHILIP FRANCIS, D. D. 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 
 
 THE LIFE OF THE TRANSLATOR 
 
 IK TWO VOLUME?, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 NEW-YORK : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY SOLOMON KlNGj 
 No. 136 William-Street. 
 
 1825.
 
 LIFE OF THE TRANSLATOR, 
 
 THE REV. PHILIP FRANCIS. 
 
 Few memoirs have been handed down to us oi 
 the able translator of Horace and Demosthenes. He 
 was of Irish extraction, if not born in that king- 
 dom ; where his father was a dignified clergyman, 
 and, among other preferments, held the rectory of 
 St. Mary Dublin, from which he was ejected by the 
 court on account of his Tory principles. His son^ 
 our author, was also educated for the church, and 
 obtained a doctor's degree. His edition of Horace 
 made his name known in England about the year 
 1743, and raised him a reputation, as a classicaj 
 editor and translator, which no subsequent attempts 
 have been able to diminish. Dr. Johnson, many 
 years after other rivals had started, gave him this 
 praise : " The lyrical part of Horace never can bo 
 properly translated ; so much of the excellence is in 
 the numbers and the expression. Francis has done 
 it the best : I'U take his, five out of six, against 
 them all." 
 
 Sometime after the publication of Horace, he ap* 
 pears to have come over to England ; where, in 175.3 
 hQ published a translation of part of the Orations-o; 
 
 looiesi
 
 vi LIFE OF DR. FRANCIS. 
 
 Demo^sihenes, intending to comprise the whole 111 
 two quarto volumes . It was a matter of some im- 
 portance at that time to publish a large work of this 
 kind, and the author had the precaution therefore to 
 secure a copious list of subscribers , Unfortunately, 
 however, it had to contend with the acknowledged 
 merit cf Leland's Translation ; and, allowing their 
 respective merits to have been nearly equal, Lc« 
 land's had at least the priority in point of time, and, 
 npo"n comparison, was preferred by the critics, as 
 being more free and eloquent, and less literally ex- 
 act. This, however, did not arise from any defect 
 in our author's skill, but was merely an error, if an 
 error at all, in judgment : for he conceived that as 
 few liberties as possible ought to be taken with the 
 style of his author, and that there was an essential 
 difference between a literal translation, which only 
 he considered as faithful, and an imitation, in which 
 we can never be certain that we have the author's 
 words or precise meaning. In the year 1755, he 
 completed his purpose in a second volume, which 
 was applauded as a difficult work well executed, 
 and acceptable to every friend of genius and litera- 
 ture : but its success was by no means correspon.; 
 dent to the wishes of the author or of his friends. 
 The year before the first volume of his Demos- 
 thenes appeared, he determined to attempt the 
 drama, and his first essay was a tragedy, entitled 
 Eugenia. This is professedly an adaptation of the 
 French Cenio to English feelings and habits, but it 
 had not much success on the stage. Lord Chester- 
 field, in one of his letters to his son, observes, that 
 he did not think it would have succeeded so well^ 
 tronsjdering how long our British audiences had been
 
 LIFE OF DK. FRANCIS. lit 
 
 •sccuslomed to murder, racks, and poisoU; in fetery 
 tragedy : yet it affected the heart so much, th^t it 
 triumphed over habit and prejudice. In a subse- 
 quent letter, he says that the boxes were crowded 
 ~ill the sixth night, when the pit and gallery were 
 totally deserted, and it was dropped. Distress wilH- 
 out death, he repeats, was not sufficient to affect a 
 true British audience, so long accustomed to dag- 
 gers, racks, and bowls of poison ; contrary to 
 Horace's rule, they desire to see Medea mrurder Iier 
 children on the «tage. The sentiments were too 
 delicate to move them : and their hearts were to be 
 -*aken by storm, not by parley. 
 
 In 1754, Mr. Francis brought out another trage^ 
 at Covent-Garden theatre, entitled Constantine, 
 which was equally unsuccessful, but appears to have 
 suffered principally by the improper distribution oi" 
 '.he parts among the actors. This he alludes to, in 
 fhe dedication to lord Ch'^esterfield, with whom lie 
 appears to have been acquainted ; and intimates, 
 at the same time, that these disappointments had in- 
 duced him to take leave of the stage. 
 
 During the political contests at the beginning ol 
 the present reigTJ, he employed his pen in defence, 
 of government, and acquired the patronage of lorOi 
 Holland ; who rewarded his services by the rectorv 
 of Barrow in Suffolk, and the chaplainship cJ 
 tJhelsea-hospital. What were his publications on 
 political topics, as they were anonymous, and pvc 
 bably dispersed among the periodical journals, can- 
 not now be ascertained. They drew upon him, 
 liOwever. the wrath of Churchill, who in his ''Au- 
 thor" has exhibited a portrait ol' Mr. Francis pro= 
 ■jab'y orerchargedby spleen and envy. Churchill irj
 
 vlii LIFE OF DR. FRANCIS. 
 
 deed was so profuse ofhiscalumny, that, long beiWt. 
 he died, h\a as:sertions had'begun to lose their value , 
 He is said to have intended to write a satirical 
 poeTil, in which Francis was to make his appearance 
 as the 'ordinary of Newgate. The severity of this 
 satire was better understood at that time, when the 
 ordinaries of Newgate were held in very little es- 
 teem, and some of them were grossly ignorant and 
 dissolute. 
 
 Mr. Francis died at Bath, March 5, 1773, leaving' 
 a son, who in the same year was appointed one of 
 the Supreme Council of Bengal, and is now sir 
 Philip Francis, K. B., and M. P. for Appleby. 
 
 Of all the classical writers, Horace is by general 
 oonsent allowed to be the most difficult to translate ; 
 yet so universal has been the ambition to perform 
 this task, that scarcely an English poet can be 
 named in whose works we do not find some part of 
 Horace. These efforts, however, have not so fre^ 
 quently been directed to give the sense and local 
 meaning of the author, as to transfuse his satire, 
 and adapt it to modern persons and times. But of 
 the few who have exhibited the whole of this in- 
 teresting poet in an English dress, Mr. Francis has 
 been supposed to have succeeded best in that which 
 is most difficult, the lyric part, and likewise to have 
 oonveyed^the spirit and sense of the original, in the 
 Epistles and Satires, with least injury to the genius 
 of the author. In his perface, he acknowledges hi* 
 c>bligations to Dr. Dunkin, a poet of some celebrity, 
 and a an excellent classical scholar. 
 
 While Horace is accounted the most difficult, he i^ 
 f>erhap9 of all Latin authors th©most popular ; aiiu
 
 LIFE OF DR. FRAxNGIS. i.x 
 
 accDidiiigly we find more frequent quotations froiii 
 him than from any other. He is in Latin what Pope 
 3ii is English ; and the reason is honourable to his 
 talentS; to the refinement and elegance of his senti- 
 ments, and to the universal range he took through 
 the extensive provinces of manners, morals, and 
 criticism. He was contemporary with Virgil and 
 Varius, by whose means he obtained the patronage 
 of Maecenas and Augustus. To Mcecenas he was 
 =0 warmly attached, that it has been supposed, but 
 not on sufficient authority, that he put an end tohi^i 
 own life in order to follow his generous patron. Ii 
 is certain that he died soon after Msecenas, in the 
 fifty-seventh year of his age. and in the year eighth 
 before the Christian sera.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 JL HE works of Horace have been always num 
 bered among the most valuable remains of antiqur 
 ty. If we may rely upon the judgment of his com- 
 mentatorS; he has united in his lyric poelry the en- 
 thusiasm of Pindar, the majesty of Alcaeus, the ten- 
 derness of Sappho, and the charming levities of An- 
 acreon. Yet he has beauties of his own genius, hie 
 own manner,, that form his'peculiar character. Ma- 
 ny of his odes are varied with irony and satire ; 
 with delicacy and humour ; with ease and pleasant^ 
 ry. Some of them were written in the first heat 
 of imagination, when circumstances of time, pla- 
 ces, persons, were strong upon him. In others, he 
 rises in full poetical dignity ; sublime in sentiments, 
 bold in allusions, and profuse of figures ; frugal of 
 words, carious in his choice, and happily ventu- 
 rous in his use of them ; pure in his diction, ani- 
 mated in his expressions, and harmonious in his 
 numbers ; artful in the plans of his poems, regu- 
 lar in their conduct, and happy in their execution. 
 Surely the best attempts to translate so various an 
 anther, will require great indulgence, and any tol- 
 erable success may deserve it. But perhaps we 
 shall better see the variety of our poet's genius by 
 considering, if such an expression may be forgiven,, 
 the various genius of lyric poetry. 
 Jn the first ages of Greece, the lyric muse \^*as
 
 xii PREFACE. 
 
 particularly appointed to celebrate the praises of 
 the gods and heroes in their festivals. The noblest 
 precepts of philosophy were enlivened by musiC; 
 and animated by the language of poetry, while 
 reason governed the raptures, which a religious en- 
 thusiasm inspired. We may therefore believe, that 
 nothing could enter into its compositions, but what 
 was chnste and correct, awful and sublime, while 
 it was employed in singing thepraisesof gods, and 
 immortalizing the actions of men ; in supporting 
 the sacred truths of religion, and encouraging the 
 practice of moral virtue. Such was its proper, na- 
 tural character. But it soon lost this original ex-^ 
 cellence, and became debased to every light de- 
 scription of love, dances, feasts, gallantry, and wine, 
 In this view it may be compared to one of its first 
 masters, who descended (according to an expres- 
 sion of Quintilian) into sports and loves, although 
 naturally formed for nobler subjects. 
 
 Yet this alteration, though it lessened its natural 
 dignity, seems to have added to that pleasing va- 
 riety, to which no other poetry can pretend. For 
 when the skill and experience of the persons, who 
 first cultivated the different kinds of poems, gave 
 to each kind those numbers, which seemed most 
 proper for it ; as lyric poetry had given birth to all 
 sorts of verse, so it preserved to itself all the meas» 
 ures of which they are composed, the pentameter 
 alone excepted. Thus a variety of subjects is 
 agreeably maintained by a variety of numbers, and 
 they have both contributed to that free, unbounded 
 spirit, which forms the peculiar character of lyria 
 poetry.
 
 PREFACE. xiii 
 
 In this freedom of spirit it disdains to mark the 
 transitions, which preserve a connection in alt 
 other writings, and which naturally conduct the 
 mind from one thought to another. From whence 
 it must often happen, that while a translator is 
 grammatically explaining his author, and opening 
 his reasoning, that genius and manner, and bold- 
 ness of thinking, which are effects of an immediate 
 poetical enthusiasm, shall either be wholly lost, or 
 greatly dissipated and enfeebled. 
 
 It is remarkable, that this kind of poetry was the 
 first that appeared in Rome, as it was the first that 
 was known in Greece, and was used in the same 
 subjects by the Romans, while they had not yet 
 any correspondence with Greece and her learning. 
 However, it continued in almost its first rudeness 
 until the Augustan age, when Horace, improved by 
 reading and imitating the Grecian poets, carried it 
 at once to its perfection, and, in the judgment of 
 Quintilian, is almost the only Latin lyric poet 
 worthy of being read. 
 
 If we should inquire into the state of lyric poetry 
 among English writers, we shall be obliged to con- 
 fess that their taste was early vitiated, and their 
 judgment unhappily misguided, by the too great 
 success of one man of wit, who first gave Pindar's 
 name to a wild, irregular kind of versification, of 
 which there is not one instance in Pindar. All his 
 numbers are exact, and all his strophes regular. 
 But from the authority of Cowley, supported by an 
 inconsiderate imitation of some other eminent wri- 
 ters, every idler in poetry, who has not strength or 
 industry sufficient to coufine his rhymes and num*
 
 ■xiv PREFACE. 
 
 bers to some constant form (which can alone give 
 ihera real harmony,) makes an art of wandering, 
 and then calls his work a Pindaric ode ; in which, 
 by the same justness of criticism, his imagination 
 is as wild and licentious as his numbers are loose 
 and irregular. 
 
 To avoid this fault, all the measures in the follow- 
 ing translation are constantly maintained through 
 each ode, except in the Carmen Seculare. But it 
 may be useless to excuse particulars, when possi- 
 bly the whole poem, in its present form, may be 
 condemned. Yet by foreigners it has been called 
 Mr. Sanadon's master-piece ; and since the odes of 
 Horace are certainly not in that order at present, 
 in which they were originally published, it has 
 been esteemed an uncommon proof of his critical 
 sagacity, to have reconciled in one whole so many 
 broken parts, that have so long perplexed the best 
 commentators. Yet the reader will find some alte- 
 lation of Mr. Sanadon's plan, for which thetransla- 
 tor is obliged to the learned and reverend Mr. 
 Jones, who lately published a very valuable edition 
 of Horace. 
 
 Although it was impossible to preserve our au- 
 ihor's measures, yet the form of his strophes has 
 been often imitated, and, in general, there will be 
 iluund a greater number of different stanzas, in the 
 franslation, than in the original. One advantage 
 there is peculiar to English stanzas, that some of 
 them have a natural ease and fluency ; others seem 
 formed for humour and pleasantry ; while a third 
 kind has a tone of dignity and solemnity proper for 
 sublimer subjects. Thus the measures and form of
 
 PREFACE. XV 
 
 the stanza will often show the design and cast ol" 
 the ode. 
 
 In the translation it has not only been endea 
 voured to give the poet's general meaning, but to 
 preserve that force of expression, in which his pe- 
 ouliar happiness consists, and that boldness of epi» 
 thets, for which one of his commentators callshin; 
 wonderful, and almost divine. Many odes, espe- 
 cially in the first book, have little more than choice 
 of words and harmony of numbers to make them 
 not unworthy of their author ; and although these 
 were really the most difficult parts of the transla- 
 tion, yet tliey will be certainly the least entertain- 
 ing to an English reader. In the usual manner o"f 
 paraphrase or imitation, it had not been impossible 
 to have given them more spirit, according to tlie 
 taste of many a modern critic, by enlarging the 
 poet's design, and adding to his thoughts; but, 
 however hardy the translator may seem by hif^ 
 present adventurous undertaking, this was a pre»- 
 sumption, of which he was very little capable. 
 
 It would hq, a tedious, useless, and ill-natured la^ 
 hour to point out the faults in other versions of 
 onr poet. Let us rather acknowledge, that therr 
 ure excellent lines in them, of which the present 
 translator has taken as many as he could use upon 
 iiis plan, and wishes, for the sake of the publir, 
 they could be found to exceed a hundred. 
 
 Yet still the far more valuable parts of our au- 
 thor remain to be considered. If in his Odes he 
 appears with all the charms and graces and orna- 
 jnents of poetry, in his Epistles and Satires he- 
 gives us the noblest precepts of philosophy, tha^ 
 '?ver formed the hunKm heart, or improved the uv.-^
 
 ^nl PREFACE. 
 
 del-standing. He tells us, that Homer shows in a 
 clearer and more persuasive manner the beauty 
 and advantages of virtue, the deformity and dangers 
 of vice, than even the Stoic and Academician phi- 
 losophers. Yet the morality of Homer is confined 
 to politics ; to the virtues or vices of princes, upon 
 whom, indeed, the happiness or misery of their 
 people depends. But in the morality of Horace,, 
 the happiness and misery of all humankind are in- 
 terested. Here the gratitude and affection due to 
 a good father for his care and tenderness are im- 
 pressed upon the child. Here we are taught, that 
 real greatness does not arise from the accident of 
 being nobly born, or descended from a race of ti- 
 tled ancestors. We must imitate those virtues, 
 to which they were indebted for their titles. Such 
 are the sentiments of our poet's philosophy. 
 
 If his religion were a subject for our curiosity, 
 it will appear to have been founded upon the best 
 reasoning of the human understanding. He as- 
 serts a supreme Being, with that noble idea of him, 
 " Unde nil majus generatur ipso, nee viget quic- 
 quam simile aut secundum." From this Being all 
 others, both gods and men, received their existence, 
 and upon him they depend for the continuance of 
 it. But as creeds and practice too frequently dif- 
 fer, it is acknowledged, that our poet, although not 
 professedly the disciple of any particular school, 
 in general lived an Epicurean. Such a religion 
 was happily suited to the natural indolence of his 
 disposition, the carelessness of his temper, and the 
 companionable gaiety of his humour. Yet we find 
 him honest, just, humane, and good-natured; firm 
 in his frien^S'hips ; grateful, without flattery; to
 
 PREFACE. xvii 
 
 •he bounty of Msecenas, and wisely contented with 
 the fortune which he had the honour of receiving 
 fi-om his ilkistrious patron. Among the numerous 
 authors of antiquity, others, perhaps, maybemox'» 
 admired; or esteemed ; none more amiable, more 
 worthy to be beloved. 
 
 The difficulty of translating this part of his works 
 arises in general from the frequent translations <Jf 
 lines in Grecian writers, and parodies on those of 
 his contemporaries ; from his introducing new cha* 
 racters on the scene, and changing the speakers <}f 
 his dialogues ; from his not marking his transitions 
 fron) thought to thought, but giving them as they 
 lay in his mind. These unconnected transitions 
 are of great life and spirit ; nor should a translator 
 be too coldly regular in supplying the connection, 
 since it will be a tame performance, that gives us 
 the sense of Horace, if it be not given in his pecu- 
 liar manner. 
 
 As his editors have often perplexed the text, by 
 altering the measures of our author for the sake ef 
 a more musical cadence ; so they, who have imi- 
 tated or translated him with most success in Eng- 
 lish, seem to have forgotten, that a carelessness of 
 numbers is a peculiar part of his character, whicti 
 ought to be preserved almost as faithfully as his 
 sentiments. 
 
 Style is genius, and justly numbered amongst 
 the fountains of the sublhne. Expression io poet- 
 ry is that colouring in painting, which distingujshBs 
 a master's hand. But the misfortune of our trans- 
 lators is, that they have only one style ; and con» 
 sequenily all their authors, Homer, Virgil, Horace; 
 
 Ovid, are c«rcpelkd to speak in the ^me niratier^ . 
 Vql. I. 2
 
 xnu PREFACE. 
 
 and the same unvaried expression. Tlie free-born 
 spirit of poetry is confined in twenty constant syl- 
 lables, and the sense regularly ends with every se- 
 cond line, as if the writer had not strength enough 
 to support himself, or courage enough to venture 
 into a third. 
 
 This unclassical kind of versification would be 
 particularly most unnatural in a translation of Ho- 
 race. It would make him argue in couplets, and 
 the persons of hrs dialogues converse almost in 
 epigrams. The translator has theref&re followed 
 the sense in one unbroken period. He has often 
 Endeavoured to imitate the prosaic cadence of his 
 author, when he could with much more ease have 
 made him appear like a modern original. He has- 
 run the lines into each other, as he believes it the 
 best manner of preserving that looser, prosaic poet- 
 ry, that negligence of numbers, whicli has ever been 
 esteemed one of his peculiar beauties. 
 
 If we consider the poetical spirit and numerous 
 variety of measures in his Odes, we may believr 
 this careless versification in his Satires was not an 
 effect of necessity, but of judgment. His frequent 
 u?e of proverbs and common phrases ; his diflTerent 
 manner of expressing the same sentiments in hi& 
 Odes and Satires, will convince us, that he really 
 thought a satirest and a poat were extremely dif- 
 ferent characters ; that the language of poetry 
 was as unnatural to the morality of satire, as a 
 i*ow, familiar style to the majesty of an epic poem ; 
 or, as he himself expresses it, that the Muse of Sa- 
 tire walks on foot, while all her sisters soar into 
 fbe skies. 
 
 Tf fh^s critidim be ja&t,- the dispute bMween J-i
 
 PREFACE. sU 
 
 vend and Horace, with regard to style, may with 
 <iase be decided. In Juvenal the vices of his age 
 are shown in all their natural horrors. He com- 
 mands his readers in the language of authority, and 
 terrifies them with images drawn in the boldness Of 
 a truly poetical spirit. He stands like a priest at 
 an altar sacrificing to his gods ; but even a priest, 
 in his warmest zeal of religion, might be forgiven, 
 if he confessed so much humanity, as not to take 
 pleasure in hearing the groans, and searching intj» 
 xhe entrails of the victim. 
 
 There is a kind of satire of such malignity, as 
 coo surely proceeds from a desire of gratifying a 
 constitutional cruelty of temper. The satirest does 
 not appear like a magistrate to give sentence on 
 she vices of mankind, but like an executioner to 
 -laughter the criminal. It was the saying of a. 
 ^reat man, that he who hated vice, hated mankind; 
 nut certainly be does not love them as he ought^ 
 who indulges his natural sagacity in adiscernmeni 
 of their faults, and feels an ill-natured pleasure in 
 v-xposlng them to public view. 
 
 Our author was of another spirit ; of a natural 
 cheerfulness of temper ; an easiness of manners, 
 iashioned by the politeness of courts ; a good un- 
 derstanding, improved by conversing with man- 
 kind ; a quick discernment of their frailties, but, 
 in general, so happy an art of correcting them, that 
 he reproves without offending, and instructs with- 
 out an affectation of superiority. He preserves a 
 strength of reasoning necessary to persuade, with- 
 out that dogmatical seriousness, which is apt to 
 disgust^ or disoblige. He has thjis advantage over 
 viie rigid satirest, that^we receive him into our ho^-
 
 XX. PREFACE. 
 
 ^onis, while he reasons with good-humour,, anu 
 corrects in the language of friendship. Nor will 
 ills Satires be less useful to the present age, than 
 to that in which they were written, since he doei' 
 jiot draw his characters from particular person?, 
 hut from human nature itself, which is invariably 
 the same in all ages and countries.
 
 ODES
 
 p
 
 ODEa 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 ODE I. 
 
 TO MiECENAS. 
 
 MAECENAS, whose high lineage springs 
 From fair Etruria's ancient kings. 
 O thou, my patron and my friend; 
 On whom my life, my fame depend , 
 In clouds th' Olympic dust to roll. 
 To turn with kindling wheels the goal^ 
 And gain the palm, victorious prize ! 
 Exalt a mortal to the tkies. 
 
 This man, by faction and debate 
 rlais'd to the first employs of state 
 Another, who from Lybia's plain 
 vSweeps to his barn the various grain : 
 A third, who with unwearied toil 
 Ploughs cheerful his paternal soil; 
 While in their several wishes blest. 
 Not all the wealth by kings possest. 
 Shall tempt, with fearfal souls to bran 
 The terrors of the foamy wave. 
 
 When load the winds and waters wa|^ 
 Wild war with elemental rage, 
 Ther merchaBt praises tlte retrestT
 
 24 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 The quiet of his rural seat ; 
 Yef, want untutor'd to sustain, 
 Soon rigs his shatter'd bark again. 
 
 No mean delights possess his soul, 
 With good old wine who crowns his bowl , 
 Whose early revels are begun 
 Ere half the course of day be run, 
 Now, by some sacred fountain laid, 
 Now, stretch'd beneath some bowering shade» 
 
 The tented camps a soldier charm, 
 Trumpets and fifes his bosom warm ; 
 Their mingled sounds with joy he'll hear, 
 These sounds of war which mothers fear. 
 The sportsman, chill'd by midnight Jove> 
 Forgets his tender, wedded love, 
 Whether his faithful hounds pursue. 
 And hold the bounding hind in view ; 
 Whether the boar his hunters foils, 
 A nd foaming breaks the spreading tolls. 
 
 An ivy-wreath, fair Learning's prize. 
 Raises Maecenas to the skies. 
 The breezy grove, the mazy round, 
 Where the light Nymphs and Satyrs bound 
 If there the sacred Nine inspire 
 The breathing flute, and strike the lyre, 
 There let me fix my last retreat, 
 Far from the little vulgar, and the great. 
 But if you rank me with the choir. 
 Who tun'd with art the Grecian lyre. 
 Swift to the noblest heights of fame 
 Shall rise thy poet's (feat^Jless name,
 
 ODES, BOOK I. S: 
 
 ODE II. 
 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 ENOUGH of snow and hail in tempests dire 
 Have pour'doneaith, while Heav'n's eternal Siio 
 With red right arm at his own temples hurl'd 
 His thunders, and alai-m'd a guuly world. 
 
 Lest Pyrrha should again wit/i plaintive cries 
 Behold the monsters of the deep ari.-e. 
 When to the mountain -;?nramit Proteus drove 
 His sea-born herd, and 'vhere the cvoodland dove 
 Late perch'd, his wonted .-oat, the scaly brood 
 Entangled hung upon the topmost wood, 
 And every timorous native of the plain 
 High-floating swam amid the boundles? main. 
 
 We saw, push'd backward to his native sourer 
 The yellow Tiber roll his rapid course, 
 With impious ruin threat'ning Vesta's fane, 
 And the great monuments of iViima's reign ; 
 
 With grief and rage while Ilia's bosom glows 
 Boastful, for her revenge, his waters rose : 
 But now, th' uxorious river glides away, 
 So Jove commands, ?raooth-wincing to the sea. 
 
 And yet, less numerous by their parents' crime- 
 Our sons shall hear, sliall near to latest times, 
 Of Roman arms with civil gore embru'd, 
 Which better had the Persian foe subdu'd. 
 
 Among her guardian gods, what pitying povre-' 
 To raise her sinking state shall Rome implore 
 Shall her own hallow'd virgins' earnest pra}> 
 Harmonious charm offended Vesta's ear ? 
 Vol. L 3
 
 OtJ THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 To whom shall Jove assign to purge away 
 The guilty deed ? Come then, bright god oUhy, 
 But gracious veil thy shoulders beamy-bright. 
 Oh ! veil in clouds th' unsufferable light. 
 
 Or come, sweet queen of smiles, while round tliPf 
 rove, 
 On wanton wing, the powers of mirth and love . 
 Or hither, Mars, thine aspect gracious bend, 
 And powerful thy neglected race defend, 
 
 Parent of Rome, amidst the rage of fight 
 .Sated with scenes of blood, thy fierce delight. 
 Thou, whom the polish'd helm, the noise of arms. 
 And the stern soldier's frown with transport warms, 
 
 Or thou, fair Maia's winged son, appear. 
 And human shape, in prime of manhood, wear ; 
 Declar'd the guardian of th' imperial state. 
 Divine avenger of great Cesar's fate : 
 
 Oh ! late return to heav'n, and may thy reign 
 With lengthened blessings fill thy wide domain : 
 Nor lot thy people's crimesprovoke thy fliglif, 
 On air swift-rising to the realms of light. 
 
 Great prince and father of the state, receive 
 The noblest triumphs which thy Rome can give 
 Nor let the Parthian, with unpunished pride, 
 Bevond his bound's, O Caesar, dare to ride.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 TO THE SHIP IN WHICH VIRGIL SAILED 
 TO ATHENS. 
 
 SO may the Cyprian queen divine 
 \^nd the twin-stars with saving lustre shine ; 
 
 So may the father of the wind 
 All others, but the western breezes, bind, 
 As 3-0U, dear vessel, safe restore 
 • Th' entrusted pledge to th' Athenian shore, 
 And of my soul the partner save , 
 My much-lov'd Virgil, from the raging wave. 
 
 Or oak, or brass, with triple fold. 
 Around that daring mortal's bosom roll'd, 
 
 Who first to the wild ocean's rage 
 Launch'd the frail bark, and heard the wind's en- 
 gage 
 Tempestiibus, when the South descends 
 Precipitate, and with the North contends ; 
 
 Nor fear'd the stars portending rain. 
 Nor the loud tyrant of the western main, 
 
 Of power supreme the storm to rai?e, 
 Or calmer smooth the surface of the seas. 
 
 AVhat various forms of death could fright 
 The man, who view'd withlix'd, unshaken sight, 
 
 The floating monsters, waves inflam'd. 
 And rocks for shipwreck'd fleets ill-fam'd 1 
 
 Jove has the realms of earth in vain 
 ©ivided by th' inhabitable main, 
 
 If ships profane, with fearless pride. 
 Found o'er th' inviolable tide.
 
 :S THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 No laws, or human or divine, 
 Can the presumptuous race of man confine. 
 
 Thus, from the sun's ethereal beam 
 When bold Prometheus stole th' enlivening flamr- 
 
 Of fevers dire a ghastly brood, 
 Till then unknown, th' unhappy fraud pursu'd , 
 
 On earth their horrors baleful spread, 
 And the pale monarch of the dead, 
 
 Till then slow-moving to his prey, 
 Precipitately rapid swept his way. 
 
 Thus did the venturous Cretan dare 
 To tempt, with impious wings, the void of air ; 
 
 Through hell Alcides urg'd his course : 
 rs"o work too high for man's audacious force. 
 
 Our folly would attempt the skies, 
 And with gigantic boldness im.pious rise ; 
 
 Nor Jove, provok'd by mortal pride. 
 Can lay his angry thunderbolts aside.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 
 
 ODE IV. 
 TO SESTIUS. 
 
 FIERCE winter melts in vernal gales, 
 And grateful zephyrs fill the spreading sail» ; 
 
 No more the ploughman loves his fire. 
 No more the lowing herds their stalls desire, 
 
 While earth her richest verdure yields, 
 Nor hoary frosts now whiten o'er the fields. 
 
 Now joyous through the verdant meads. 
 Beneath the rising moon, fair Venus leads 
 
 Her various dance, and with her train 
 Of Nymphs and modest Graces shakes the plain . 
 
 While Vulcan's glowing breath inspires 
 The toilsome forge, and blows up all its fires. 
 
 Now crown 'd with myrtle, or the flowers 
 Which the glad earth from her free bosom p'^oui'?,. 
 
 We'll offer, in the shady grove, 
 Or lamb, or kid, as Pan shall best approve. 
 
 With equal pace impartial Fate 
 Knocks at the palace as the cottage gate ; 
 
 Nor should our sum of life extend 
 Our growing hopes beyond their destin'd end. 
 
 When sunk to Pluto's shadowy coasts, 
 Opprest with darkness and the fabled ghosts,. 
 
 No more the dice shall there asi^ign 
 To thee the jovial monarchy of wine. 
 
 No more shall yoa the fair admire, 
 The virgins' envy, and the youth's desire.
 
 3© THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE V. 
 TO PYRRHA. 
 
 WHILE liquid odours round him breathe. 
 What youth, the rosy bower beneath, 
 
 Now courts thee to be kind ? 
 Pyrrha, for whose unwary heart 
 Do you, thus drest with careless art, 
 
 Your yellow tresses bind ? 
 
 How often shall th' unpractis'd youtli 
 Of alter'd gods, and injur'd truth, 
 
 With tears, alas ! complain ? 
 How soon behold with wondering eyes 
 The black'ning winds tempestuous rise. 
 
 And scowl along the main ? 
 
 While, by his easy faith betray'd, 
 He new enjoys thee, golden maid, 
 
 Thus amiable and kind ; 
 He fondly hopes that you shall prove 
 Thus ever vacant to his love, 
 
 Nor heeds the faithless wind. 
 
 Unhappy they, to whom, untried, 
 You shine, alas ! in beauty's pride ; 
 
 While I, now saf« on sliore. 
 Will consecrate the pictured storm, 
 And all my grateful vows perfornj 
 
 To Neptune's saving power.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 
 
 ODE YI. 
 TO AGRIPPA. 
 
 VARIUS,who soars on Homers wing'; 
 Agrippa, shall thy conquests sing, 
 Whate'er, inspired by his command, 
 The soldier dar'd on sea or land. 
 
 But we nor tempt with feeble art 
 Achilles' unrelenting heart, 
 Nor sage Ulysses in our lays 
 Pursues his wanderings through the seas ; 
 Nor ours in tragic strains to tell 
 How Pelops' cruel offspring fell. 
 
 The Muse, who rules th' unwarlike lyre. 
 Forbids me boldly to aspire 
 To thine or sacred Caesar's fame. 
 And hurt with feeble song the theme. 
 
 Who can describe the god of fight 
 In adamantine armour bright ; 
 Or Merion on the Trojan shore 
 With dust, how glorious ! cover'd o'er ; 
 Or Diomed, by Pallas' aid, 
 To warring gods an equal made ? 
 
 But whether loving, whether free, 
 With all our usual levity. 
 Untaught to strike the martial string. 
 Of feasts and virgin fights we sing; 
 Of maids, who, when bold love assails. 
 Fierce in their anger — pare their nails.
 
 30 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE vn. 
 
 TO MUNATIUS PLANCUB. 
 
 LET other poets in harmonious lays 
 Immortal Rhodes or Mitylene praise, 
 Or Ephesus, or Corinth's towery pride, 
 Girt by the rolling main on either side ; 
 Or Thebes, or Delphos. for their gods renown'd. 
 Or Tempe's plains wit!) flowery honours crown'd. 
 
 There are, who sing in everlasting strains 
 The towers where wisdom's virgin-goddess reigns. 
 And ceaseless toiling court the trite reward 
 Of olive, pluck'd by every \-ulgar bard. 
 For Juno's fame, th' unnumber'd tuneful throng 
 With rich Mycenae grace their favourite song, 
 And A.rgos boast, of pregnant glebe to feed 
 The warlike horse, and animate t'le breed : 
 But me, nor patient Lacedsmon charms. 
 Nor fair Larissa with such transport warms, 
 As pure Albunea's far- resounding source, 
 And rapid Anio, headlong in his course, 
 Or Tibur, fenc'd by groves from solar beams, 
 And fruitful orchards bath'd by ductile streams. 
 .i #*****#***» 
 The south wind often, when the welkin lowers, 
 Sweeps off the clouds, nor teems perpetual showers 
 So, Plancus, be the happy w^isdom thine, 
 To end the cares of life in mellow'd wine ; 
 Whether the camp v/ith banners bright display'd. 
 Or Tibur hold thee in its thick-wrought shade. 
 When Teucer from his sire and country fled,.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 33 
 
 With poplar wreaths the hero crown'd his head, 
 Reeking with wine, and thus his friends address'*!,. 
 Deep sorrow brooding in each anxious breast : 
 Bold let us follow through the foamy tides, 
 Where Fortune, better than a father, guides ; 
 AvauQt, despair ! when Teucer calls to fame, 
 The same your augur, and your guide the same. 
 Another Salamis, in foreign clime. 
 With rival pride shall raise her head sublime ; 
 SoPhcebus nods : Ye sons of valour true, 
 Full often tried in deeds of deadlier hue. 
 To-day with wine drive every care away, 
 To-morrow tempt again the boundless sea.
 
 ■M THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE VIII. 
 TO LYDIA. 
 
 BY the gods, my Lydia, tell; 
 Ah ! why, by lovmg him too well, 
 
 Why you hasten to destroy 
 Young Sybaris. too am'rous boy ? 
 
 Why he hates the sunny plain, 
 Wiiile he can sun or dust sustain ? 
 
 Why no more, with martial pride, 
 Does he among his equals ride ; 
 
 Or the Gallic steed command 
 With bitted curb and forming hand ? 
 
 More than viper's baleful blood 
 Why does he fear the yellow flood ? 
 
 Why detest the wrestler's oil, 
 While firm to bear the manly toil ? 
 
 Where are now the livid scars 
 Of sportive, nor inglorious, wars, 
 
 When for the quoit, with vigour thrown 
 Beyond the mark, his fame was known ? 
 
 Tell us, why this fond disguise, 
 In which like Thetis' son he lies, 
 
 Ere unhappy Troy had shed 
 Her funeral sorrows for the dead. 
 
 Lest a manly dress should fire 
 His soul to war and carnage dire.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 
 
 ODE IX. 
 
 TO THALIARCHUS. 
 
 BEHOLD Soracte's airy height, 
 
 See how it stands a heap of snow ; 
 Behold the winter's hoary weight 
 
 Oppress the labouring woods below ; 
 And, by the season's icy hand 
 Congeal'd, the lazy rivers stand. 
 
 Now melt away the winter's cold, 
 And larger pile the cheerful fire ; 
 
 Bring down the vintage four-year-old, 
 Whose mellowed heat can mirth inspire 
 
 Then to the guardian powers divine 
 
 Careless the rest of life resign : 
 
 For, when the warring winds arise, 
 And o'er the fervid ocean sweep, 
 
 They speak — and lo ! the tempest dies 
 On the smooth bosom of the deep ; 
 
 Unshaken stands the aged grove, 
 
 And feels the providence of Jove. 
 
 To-morrow with its cares despise, 
 And make the present hour your own, 
 
 Be swift to catch it as it flies, 
 And score it up as clearly won ; 
 
 Nor let your youth disdain to prove 
 
 The joys of dancing and of love.
 
 36 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Now let the grateful evening shade, 
 The public walks, the public park, 
 
 An assignation sweetly made 
 With gentle whispers in the dark : 
 
 While age morose thy vigour spares, 
 
 Be these thy pleasures, these thy cares. 
 
 The laugh, that from the comer flies, 
 The sportive fair-one r-hall betray ; 
 
 Then boldly snatch the joyful prize ; 
 A ring or bracelet tear away, 
 
 While she, not too severely coy. 
 
 Struggling shall yield the williDg toy.
 
 ODES, BOOK 1. 3/ 
 
 ODE X. 
 HYMN TO IVIERCURY. 
 
 I SING the god, whose arts refin'd 
 The savage race of human kind. 
 By eloquence their passions charm'd, 
 By exercise their bodies form'd : 
 Hail, winged messenger of Jove 
 And all th' immortal powers above, 
 Sweet parent of the bending lyre, 
 Thy praise shall all its sounds inspire. 
 
 Artful and cunning ro conceal 
 Whafor in sportive theft you steal, 
 When from the god who gilds the pole, 
 Even yet a boy, his herds you stole, 
 With angry voice the threatening power 
 Bad thee the fraudful prey restore ; 
 But of his quiver too beguil'd, 
 Pleas'd with the theft Appollo smil'd. 
 
 You were the v/ealthy Priam's guide 
 When safe from Agamemnon's pride. 
 Through hostile camps, which round him spread 
 Their watchful fires, his way he sped. 
 Unspotted spirits you consign 
 To blissful seats and joys divine, 
 And powerful with your golden wand 
 The light, unbodied crowd command : 
 Thus grateful does your office prove 
 To gods below, and gods above.
 
 ••\t THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE XI. 
 
 TO LEUCONOE. 
 
 STRIVE not, Leuconoe, to pry 
 
 Into the secret will of fate, 
 Nor impious magic vainly try, 
 
 To know our lives' uncertain date ; 
 
 Whether th' indulgent power divine 
 Hath many seasons yet in store, 
 
 Or this the latest winter thine. 
 Which hreaks its waves against the shore. 
 
 Thy life with wiser arts be crown'd. 
 Thy filter'd wines abundant pour ; 
 
 The lengihen'd hope with prudence bound 
 Proportion'd to the flying hour ; 
 
 Even while we talk in careless ease, 
 Our envious minutes wing their flight ; 
 
 Then swift the fleeting pleasure seize^ 
 iNor trust to-morrow's doubtful light.
 
 ODES, BOOK r. 30 
 
 ODE XII. 
 
 HYMN TO JOVE. 
 
 WHAT man, what hero, on tlie tuneful lyre, 
 Or sharp-ton'd flute, will Clio choose to raise 
 Deathless to fame ? What god ? whose hallow d 
 name 
 
 The sportive image of the voice 
 Shall in the shades of Helicon repeat, 
 On Pindus, or on Haemus, ever cool. 
 From whence the forests in confusion rose 
 
 To follow Orpheus and his song : 
 He, by his mother's art, with soft delay 
 Could stop the river's rapid lapse, or check 
 The winged winds ; with strings of concord sweet 
 
 Powerful the listening oaks to lead. 
 Claims not th' eternal Sire his wonted praise ? 
 Awful who reigns o'er gods and men supreme,. 
 Who .=!ea and earth — this universal globe 
 
 With grateful change of seasons guides ; 
 From whom no Leing of superior power, 
 Nothing of equal, second glory, springs, 
 Yet first of all his progeny divine 
 
 Immortal honours Pallas claims : 
 God of the vine, in deeds of valour bold, 
 Fair virgin-huntress of the savage race. 
 And Phcebus, dreadful with unerring dart, 
 ; Nor will I not your praise proclaim. 
 Alcides' labours, and fair Leda's twins, 
 Fam'd for the rapid race, for wrestling fam'd, 
 •■r;r,ll grace my song ; soon as whose star benign 
 
 rhrfiugh the fierce (empest shipes serene,
 
 40 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Swift from the rocks down foams the broken surge. 
 Calm are the winds, the driving clouds disperse, 
 And all the throatning waves, so will the gods, 
 
 Smooth sink upon the peaceful deep. 
 Here stops the song, doubtful whom next to praise^ 
 Or Romulus, or Numa's peaceful reign, 
 The haughty ensigns of a Tarquin's throne, 
 
 Or Cato, glorious in his fall. 
 Grateful in higher tone the Muse shall sing 
 The fate of Regulus. the Scaurian race. 
 And Paulus; 'midst the waste of Cannae's field. 
 
 How greatly prodigal of life ! 
 Form'd by the hand of penury severe, 
 In dwellings suited to their small demesne, 
 Fabricius, Curius, and Cnmillus rose ; 
 
 To deeds of martial glory rose. 
 Marcellus, like a youthful tree, of growth 
 Insensible, high shoots his spreading fame, 
 And like the moon, the feebler fires among, 
 
 Conspicuous shines the Julian star. 
 Saturnian Jove, parent and guardian god 
 Of human race, to thee the fates assign 
 The care of Caesar's reign ; to thine alone 
 
 Inferior let his empire rise ; 
 Whether the Parthian's formidable powers. 
 Or farthest India's oriental sons. 
 With suppliant pride beneath his triumph fall. 
 
 Wide o'er a willing world shall he 
 Contented reign, and to thy throne shall bend 
 Submissive, Thou in thy tremendous car 
 Shalt shake Olympus' head, and at our groves 
 
 Poluted, hurl thy dreadful bolts.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 41 
 
 ODE xin. 
 TO LYDIA. 
 
 AH '. when on Telephus his charms,. 
 When on his rosy neck and waxen arms, 
 
 Lydia with ceaseless rapture dwells. 
 With jealous spleen my glowing bosom swells, 
 
 My reason in confusion flies, 
 And on my cheek th' uncertain colour dies, 
 
 While the down-stealing tear betrays 
 The lingering flame, that on my vitals preys. 
 
 I burn, when in excess of wine. 
 Brutal, he soils those snowy arms of thine, 
 
 Or on thy lips the fierce-fond boy 
 Impresses with his teeth the furious joy. 
 
 If yet my voice can reach your ear, 
 Hope not to find him constant and sincere,. 
 
 Cruel who hurts the fragrant kiss, 
 Which Venus bathes with quintessence of bliss. 
 
 Thrice happy they, whom love unites 
 In equal rapture, and sincere delights, 
 
 Unbroken by complaints or strife, 
 Even to the latest hours of life. 
 
 V©T,, J.
 
 42 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 TO THE REPUBLIC. 
 
 UNHAPPY vessel ! shall the waves again 
 Tumultuous bear thee to the faithless main ? 
 What would th> madness, thus with storms to 
 
 sport ! 
 Cast firm your anchor in the friendly port. 
 Behold thy naked decks ; the wounded mast 
 And sail-yards groan beneath the southern blast, 
 Nor without ropes thy keel can longer brave 
 The rushing fury of th' imperious wave : 
 Torn are thy sails, thy guardian gods are lost, 
 Whom you might call in future tempests tost. 
 What though majestic in your pride you stood 
 A noble daughter of the Pontic wood. 
 You now may vainly boast an empty name. 
 Or birth conspicuous in the rolls of faij.e. 
 The mariner, when storms around him rise, 
 No longer on a painted stern relies. 
 Ah ! yet take heed, lest tliesc new tempests sweep 
 In sportive rage thy glories to the deep. 
 Thou late my deep anxiety and fear. 
 And now my fond desire and tender care, 
 Ah ! yet take heed, avoid those fatal seas 
 That roll among the shining Cyclades.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 43 
 
 ODE XV. 
 THE PROPHECY OF NEREU>S. 
 
 WHEN the perfidious shepherd bore 
 The Spartan dame to Asia's shore, 
 Nereus the rapid winds oppress'd, 
 And calm'd them to unwilling rest, 
 That he might sing the dreadful fate 
 Which should their guilty loves await. 
 
 Fatal to Priam's ancient sway 
 You bear th' ill-omen'd fair away ; 
 For soon shall Greece in arms arise, 
 Deep-sworn to break thy nuptial ties. 
 What toils do men and horse sustain ! 
 What carnage loads the Dardan plain ! 
 Pallas prepares the bounding car, 
 The shield and helm and ra^e of war. 
 Though proud of Venus' guardian care, 
 In vain you comb your flowing hair ; 
 In vain you sweep th' un war like string, 
 And tender airs to females sing ; 
 For though the dart may harmless prove 
 (The dart that frights the bed of love ;) 
 Though you escape the noise of fight, 
 Nor Ajax can o'ertake thy flight ; 
 Yet shalt thou, infamous of lust, 
 Spil those adulterous hairs in dust. 
 
 Look back and see, with furious pace. 
 That ruin of the Trojan race, 
 Ulysses drives, and sage in years 
 Fam'd Nestor, hoarj chief, appeare.
 
 U THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 Intrepid Teucer sweeps the field, 
 AndSthenelus, in battle skiU'd ; 
 Or skill'd to guide with steady rein.. 
 And pour his chariot o'er the plain. 
 Undaunted Merion shalt thou feel ; 
 While Diomed with furious steel, 
 In arms superior to his sire, 
 Burns after thee with martial fire. 
 
 As when a stag at distance spies 
 A prowling wolf, aghast he flies 
 Of pasture heedless ; so shall you, 
 High-panting, fly when they pursue. 
 Not such the promises you made, 
 Which Helen's easy heart betray'd. 
 Achilles' fleet with short delay 
 Vengeful protracts the fatal day ; 
 But when ten rolling years expire, 
 Thy Troy shall blaze in Grecian fire.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 40 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 TO TYNDARIS. 
 
 DAUGHTER, whose loveliness the bosom warms 
 More than thy lovely mother's riper charms, 
 Give to my bold lampoons what fate you please, 
 To wasting flames condemn'd, or angry seas. 
 
 But yet remember, nor the god of wine. 
 Nor Pythian Phoebus from his inmost shrine, 
 Nor Diudymene, nor her priests possest. 
 Can with their sounding cymbals shake the breast 
 
 Like furious anger in its gloomy vein, 
 Which neither temper'd sword, nor raging male, 
 Nor fire wide-wasting, nor tremendous Jove 
 Rushing in baleful thunders from above. 
 
 Can tame to fear. Thus sings the poet's lay — 
 Prometheus to inform his nobler clay 
 Their various passions chose from ev'ry beast, 
 And with the lion's rage inspired the human breast 
 
 From anger all the tragic horrors rose, 
 That crush'd Thyestes with a weight of woes ; 
 From hence proud cities date their utter falls, 
 When, insolent in ruin, o'er their walls 
 
 The wrathful soldier drags the hostile plough. 
 That haughty mark of total overthrow. 
 Me too in youth the heat of anger fir'd, 
 And with the rapid rage of rhyme inspired 
 
 But now repentant, shall the Muse again 
 To softernumbers tune her melting strain, 
 So thou recall thy threats, thy wrath controul, 
 Rusume thy love, and give me back my soul.
 
 4i5 THE WORKS OP HORACE- 
 
 ODE XVU. 
 
 TO TYNDARIS. 
 
 PAN from Arcadia's hills descends 
 
 To visit oft my Sabine seat, 
 And here my tender goats defends 
 
 From rainy winds, and summer's fiery heat ; 
 
 For when the vales, wide-spreading round, 
 The sloping hills, and polish'd rocks 
 
 With his harmonious pipe resound, 
 In fearless safety graze my wandering flock» ; 
 
 In safety, through the woody brake, 
 The latent shrubs and thyme explore, 
 
 Nor longer dread the speckled snake. 
 And tremble at the martial wolf no more. 
 
 Their poet to the gods is dear, 
 
 They love his piety and muse, 
 And all our rural honours here 
 
 Their flow'ry wealth around thee shall diffuse. 
 
 Here shall you tune Anacreon's lyre, 
 Beneath a shady mountain's brow, 
 
 To sing fraiUJirce's guilty fire. 
 
 And chaste Penelope's unbroken vow. 
 
 Far from the burning dog-star's rage 
 
 Here shall you quaff" our harmless wine; 
 
 Nor here shall Mars inteinperate wage 
 
 Rude war with him who rules tlie jovial vine : 
 
 iSor C3'rus' bold suspicions fear ; 
 
 Not on thy sotfness shall he lay 
 His desperate hand, thy clothes to tear, 
 
 Or brutal snatch thy festal crown away.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 47 
 
 ODE XVIII. 
 TO VARUS. 
 
 ROUND Catilus' walls, orinTibur's rich soil, 
 To plant the glad vine be my Varus' first toil ; 
 For God hath propos'd to the wretch who's athirst 
 To drink, or with heart-gnawing cares to he curst 
 Of war, or of want, who e'er prates o'er his wine ? 
 For 'tis thine, father Bacchus ; bright Venus, 'tis 
 
 thine, 
 To charm all his cares. Yet that no one may pas.« 
 The freedom and mirth of a temperate glass, 
 Let us think on the Lapithae's quarrels so dire, 
 And the Thracians, whom wine can to madness in- 
 spire : 
 Insatiate of liquor when glow their full veins, 
 No distinction of vice or of virtue remains. 
 
 Great god of the vine, who dost candour approve. 
 I ne'er will thy statues profanely remove ; 
 I ne'er will thy rites, so mysterious, betray 
 To the broad-glaring eye of the tale-telling day. 
 Oh I stop the loud cymbal, the cornet's alarms, 
 Whose sound, when the Bacchanal's bosom ii 
 
 warms, 
 Arouses self-love, by blindness misled, 
 And vanity, lifting aloft the light head. 
 And honour, of prodigal spirit, that shows, 
 Transparent as glass, all the secrets it know,?.
 
 48 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE XIX. 
 ON GLYCERA. 
 
 VENUS, who gave the Cupids birth, 
 And the resistless god of wine, 
 
 With the gay power of wanton mirth. 
 Now bid my heart its peace resign ; 
 
 Again for Glycera I burn, 
 And all my long-forgotten flames return. 
 
 Like Parian marble pure and bright, 
 
 The shining maid my bosom warms ; 
 Her face, too dazzling for the sight, 
 
 Her sweet coquetting — how it charms 1 
 Whole Venus rushing through my veins, 
 No longer in her favourite Cyprus reigns ; 
 
 No longer suffers me to write 
 
 Of Scythians, fierce in martial deed. 
 Or Parthian, urging in his flight 
 
 The battle with reverted steed : 
 Such themes she will no more approve, 
 Nor aught that sounds impertinent to love. 
 
 Here let the living altar rise 
 
 Adorn'd with every herb and flower ; 
 Here flame the incense to the skies, 
 And purest wine's libation pour ; 
 Due honours to the goddess paid, 
 3©ft sinks to willing love the yielding maid.
 
 ODES; BOOK I. 4^ 
 
 ODE XX. 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 1 POET'S beverage, vile and cheap 
 (Should great Maecenas be mv guest 4 
 *.rude vintage of the Sabine grape, ' 
 But yet in sober cups, shall crown the feasi : • 
 
 •Tvvas rack'd into a Grecian cask, 
 Its rougher juice to melt awav : 
 I seal'd it too— a pleasing task I 
 
 With annual joy to mark the glorious dav, 
 
 When in applausive shouts thy name 
 
 Spread from the theatre around, 
 Floating on thy own Tiber's stream, 
 
 And Echo, playful nymph, return'd the sound 
 From the Caecubian vintage prest 
 
 For you shall flow the racy wine ■ 
 But ah ! my meagre cup's unblest 
 
 With the rich Formiau or Falernlaa vin^^ 
 
 'For (he TWENTY FIRST Opr 
 
 Secular Pcem."] 
 
 Vol. I.
 
 -f^ THE WORKS OF HORACi-. 
 
 ODE XXII.1 
 
 TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS- 
 
 THE man who knows not guilty fear 
 Nor wants the bow nor pointed spear ; 
 Nor needs, while innocent of heart, 
 • The quiver teeming with thepoison'd dair. 
 
 Whether through Libya's burning sands 
 His journey leads, or Scythia's fend.^. 
 Inhospitable waste of snows, 
 Or where the fabulous Hydaspes flows 
 
 For musing on my lovely maid 
 While.careless in the woods I stray'd, 
 A wolf— how dreadful ! cross'd my way^ 
 iTet fled — he fled from his defenceless prey 
 
 No beast of such portentous size 
 In warlike Daunia's forests lies, 
 Nor sucli the tawny lion I'eigns 
 Fierce on his native Afvic's thirsty plains. 
 
 Place me, where never summer breeze 
 Unbinds the glebe, or warms the trees , 
 Where ever-lowering clouds appear. 
 And angry Jove deforms th* inclement year 
 
 Place me beneath the burning ray, 
 Where rolls the rapid car of day ; 
 Love and the nymph shall charm my toils, 
 The nymph who sweetly speaks and sweetly smiU-t 
 
 Mm
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 51 
 
 ODE XXIII. 
 TO CHLOE. 
 
 CHLOE flies me like a fawn, 
 Which through some sequester'd lawn 
 Panting seeks the mother-deer, 
 Not without a panic fear 
 Of the gently-breathing breeze, 
 And the motion of the trees. 
 If the curling leares but shake, 
 If a lizard stir the brake, 
 Flighted it begins to freeze, 
 Trembling both at heart and knees. 
 But not like a tiger dire, 
 Nor a lion fraught with ire, 
 I pursue my lovely game 
 To destroy her tender frame. 
 Haste thee, leave thy mother's arms ; 
 ■^' re for love are all thy charms. 
 
 ODE XXIV. 
 
 TO VIRGIL. 
 
 V HEREFORE restrain the tender tear ? 
 Vhy blush to weep for one so dear ? 
 iweet muse, of melting voice and lyre, 
 >o thou the mornful song inspire. 
 'j intiliiis— «— sunk to endless rest,
 
 52 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 With death's eternal sleep opprest ! 
 
 Oh ! when shall Faith, of soul sincere, 
 
 Of Justice pure the sister fair, 
 
 And Modesty, unspotted maid, 
 
 And Truth in artless guise array 'd, 
 
 Among the race of human kind 
 
 An equal to Quintilius find ? 
 How did the good, the virtuous monni^ 
 
 And pour their sorrows o'er his urn ! 
 
 But, Virgil, thine the loudest strain. 
 
 Yet all thy pious grief is vain ; 
 
 In vain do you the gods implore 
 
 Thy lov'd Quintilius to restore, 
 
 Whom on far ©ther terms they gave, 
 
 By nature fated to the grave. 
 What though you can the lyre commanC 
 
 And sweep its tones with softer hand 
 
 Than Orpheus, whose harmonious song 
 
 Once drew the listening trees along, 
 
 Yet ne'er returns the vital heat 
 
 The shadowy form to animate ; 
 
 For when the ghost-compelling god 
 Forms his black troops with horrid rod;. 
 He will not, lenient to the breath 
 Of prayer, unbar the gates of death. 
 ' Tis hard : but patience must endure* 
 \ndsX)TOth the woes it cannot cure. 
 
 Mi
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 55 
 
 ODE XXV. 
 
 TO LYDU, 
 
 THE wanton herd of rakes profest 
 Thy windows rarely now molest. 
 "Witli midnight raps, or break thy rest 
 
 With riot^ 
 The door, that kindly once could move 
 The pliant hinge, begins to love 
 Uj threshold, and no more shall prove 
 
 Unquiet. 
 
 ftow less and less assail thine ear 
 
 These plaints, " Ah, sleepest thou, my dear 
 
 ^ While I whole nights, thy true-love, here 
 
 '' Am dying 1" 
 You in your turn shall weep the taunts 
 Of young and insolent gallants, 
 Jn abme dark alley's midnight haunts 
 
 Late plying : 
 
 While raging tempests chill the skies, 
 And burning lust (such lust as tries 
 The madding dams of horses) fries 
 
 Thy liver ; 
 Our youth, regardless of thy frown, 
 Their heads with fresher wreaths shall crcJwnj 
 -itrrd fljug tJiy wither'd garlands down 
 
 The river.
 
 54 THE WORKS OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XXVI. 
 
 TO HIS MUSE. 
 
 WHILE in the Muse's friendship blest 
 Nor fear nor grief shall break my rest; 
 Bear them, ye vagrant winds, away 
 And drown them in the Cretan sea. 
 
 Careless am I, or who shall reign 
 The tyrant of the Scythian plain, 
 Or with what anxious fear opprest 
 Heaves Tiridates' panting breast. 
 
 Sweet Muse, who lov'st the virgin spiiiii 
 Hither thy sunny flow'rets bring. 
 And let thy richest chaplet shed 
 Tts fragrance round my Lamia's head ; 
 For nought avails the poet's praise, 
 Unless the Muse inspire his lays. 
 
 Oh ! string the Lesbian lyre again. 
 Let all thy sisters raise the strain, 
 And consecrate to deathless fame 
 Mv lov'd.my Lamia's honour'd name^
 
 ODES, BOOK r. ^'' 
 
 ODE XXVII. 
 
 TO HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 WITH glasses made for gay delight 
 'TisThracian, savage rage to fight. 
 With such intemperate^ bloody fray 
 Fright not the modest god away. 
 
 Monstrous ! to see the dagger shiiir 
 Amidst the midnight joys of wine. 
 Here bid this impious clamour cease,, 
 And press the social couch in peace, 
 
 Say, shall I drink this heady winC; 
 Pressed from the rough Falernian vine 
 Instant, let yonder youth impart 
 The tender story of his heart, 
 By what dear wound he blissful dies,. 
 And whence the gentle arrow flies. 
 
 What I does the bashful boy deny 
 Then; if I drink it let me die. 
 WJioe'er she be, a generous flame 
 Can never know the blush of shame. 
 Thy breast no slave-born Venus fires 
 But fair, ingenuous love inspires. 
 Then safely whisper in my ear, 
 For all such trusts are sacred here. 
 
 Ah ! worthy of a better flame ! 
 Unhappy youth ! is she the dame ? 
 Unhappy youth 1 how art thou lost. 
 In what a sea of troubles tost ! 
 What drugs, what witchcraft, or whatch»>Ti)s 
 What god, can free thee from her arms ? 
 Scarce Pegasus can disengage 
 Thy heart from this Chimaera's x^ze.
 
 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXVIII. 
 
 ,V .MARINER AND THE GHOST 01' 
 ARCHYTAS. 
 
 Mariner, 
 ARCHYTAS, wHkt avails thy nice survey 
 Of ocean's countless sands, of earth and sea? 
 In vain thy mighty spirit once could soar 
 To orbs celestial, and their course explore ; 
 If here, upon the tempest-beaten strand, 
 You lie eonfin'd, till some more liberal hand 
 Shall strow the pious dust in funeral rite, 
 And wing thee to the boundless realms of light. 
 Ghost. 
 
 Even he, who did with gods the banquet share 
 Tithonos, rais'd to breathe celestial air, 
 And Minos, Jove's own counsellor of state, 
 All these have yielded to the power of fate. 
 Mariner. 
 
 Even your own sage, whose monumental shieUr 
 Borne through the terrors of the Trojan field, 
 Prov'd that alone the mouldering body dies, 
 And souls immortal from our ashes rise. 
 Even he a second time resigned his breath. 
 Sent hgadlong to the gloomy realms of death : 
 Ghost. 
 
 Not meanly skiird,even by your own applau??. 
 in moral truth, and nature's secret laws. 
 
 One endless night for all mankind remains, 
 Anti once we all must tread the shadowy plair^s.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 57 
 
 Inhorriti pomp of war the soldier dies ; 
 
 The sailor in the greedy ocean lies ; 
 
 Thus age and youth promiscuous crowd the tomb ' 
 
 No mortal head can shun th' impending doom. 
 
 When sets Orion's star, the winds that sweep 
 The raging waves, o'erwhelm'd me in the deep : 
 Nor thou, ray friend, refuse with impious hand 
 A little portion of this wandering sand 
 To these my poor remains ; so may the storm 
 "Rage o'er the woods, nor ocean's face deform : 
 May gracious Jove with wealth thy toils repay, 
 And Neptune guard thee through the watery way ! 
 
 Thy guiltless race this bold neglect shall mourn . 
 And thou shalt feel the just returns of scorn. 
 My curses shall pursue the guilty deed, 
 And all in vain thy richest victims bleed. 
 Whatever thy haste, oh ! let my prayer prevail^ 
 Ttrice strov the sand, then hoist the flving sail..
 
 5.8 THE WORKS OP HORACE 
 
 ODE XXIX. 
 
 TO ICCIUS. 
 
 ICCIUS, the blest Arabia's gold 
 Can you with envious eye behold ? 
 Or will you boldly take the field, 
 And teach Sabaea's kings to yield, 
 Or meditate the dreadful Mede 
 In chains triuniphantly to lead ? 
 
 Should you her hapless lover slay, 
 What captive maid shall own thy sway >? 
 What courtly youth with essenc'd hair 
 ^hall at thy board the goblet bear. 
 Skilful with his great father's art 
 To wing with death the pointed dart ? 
 
 Who shall deny that streams ascend. 
 And Tiber's currents backward bend, 
 When you have all our hopes betray'd ; 
 You, that far other promise made ; 
 When all your volumes, learned store ' 
 The treasures of Socratic lore, 
 t>nce bought nt mighty price, in vain, 
 A re sent to purchase arms in Spain ?
 
 ODES, BOOK I 
 
 ODE XXX. 
 TO VENUS. 
 
 Q,UEEN of beauty, queen of smilef, 
 Leave, oh ! leave thy favourite isles 
 A temple rises to thy fame, 
 Where Glycera invokes thy name, 
 And bids the fragrant incense flame, 
 
 With thee bring thy love- warm son. 
 The Graces bring with flowing zone^ 
 The Nymphs, and jocund Mercury, 
 And sprightly Youth, who without th€i 
 Is nought but savage Liberty.
 
 60 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXXL 
 
 TO APOLLO. 
 
 >^"^EN at Apollo's hallow'd shrine 
 The poet hails the power divine, 
 And here his first libations pours, 
 "Nyhat is the blessing he implores ? 
 
 He nor desires thd swelling grain. 
 That yellows o'er Sardinia's plain ; 
 Nor the fair herds, that lowing feed 
 On warm Calabria's flowery mead ; 
 Nor ivory, of spotless shine ; 
 Nor gold, forth-flaming from its mine - 
 Nor the rich fields that Liris laves, 
 And eats away with silent waves. 
 
 Let others quaff the racy wine 
 To whom kind Fortune gives the vine ; 
 The golden goblet let him drain 
 Who vent'rous ploughs th' Atlantic malD. 
 Blest with three safe returns a-year, 
 For he to every god is dear. 
 
 To me boon Nature frankly yields 
 Her wholesome sallad from the fields ; 
 Nor ask I more, than sense and health 
 sun to enjoy my present wealth. 
 From age and all its weakness free, 
 O son of Jove, preserv'd by thee, 
 Give me to strike the tuneful lyre, 
 .\nd thoji niy latest song inspire^
 
 ODES, BOOK I. O! 
 
 ODE xxxn 
 
 TO HIS LYRE, 
 
 IP with thee beneath the shade 
 IMany an idle air I play'd, 
 
 Now the Latian song, my lyre, 
 With some immortal strain inspire. 
 
 Such as once Alcasus sung. 
 Who, fierce in war, thy music strung, 
 
 When he heard the battle roar, 
 Qi^raoor'd his sea-tost vessel on the shore 
 
 Wine and the Muses were his theme, 
 And Venus, laughter-loving dame, 
 
 With Cupid ever by her side. 
 And Lycus, form'd in beauty's pride. 
 
 With his hair of jetty dye, 
 And the black lustre of his eye. 
 
 Charming shell, Apollo'sHove, 
 How grateful to the feasts of Jove • 
 
 Hear thy poet's solemn prayer, 
 Tlrou soft"ner of each anxioiis care.
 
 m Tlit WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXXIIL 
 
 7 ALBIUS TIBULLUe 
 
 NO rnoie iu elegiac etrain 
 01 cruel Glyccra complain, 
 I'hough she resign iicr faithless charms 
 To a new lover's younger arms. 
 The Ui-dhi, for lovelj' forehead fam'd, 
 With Cyrus' beauties ia inflam'd ; 
 While Pholoe, of haughty charms, 
 'i'hc panting breast of Cyrus warms ; 
 But wolves and goats shall sooner prove 
 The pleasures of forbidden love. 
 Than she her virgin honour stain, 
 And not the filthy rake disdain. 
 
 So Venus wills, whose power controuls 
 The fond affections of our soul» ; 
 With sportive cruelty she binds 
 Unequal forms, unequal minds. 
 Thus, when a better Venus strove 
 To wurrn my youthful breast to love, 
 y»;t could a slave-born maid detain 
 ^Iy willing heart in pleasing chain, 
 { hougli fiercer she than waves that roar 
 Winding the rough CaUbfian thore.
 
 ODES, DOOK I. a*! 
 
 ODE XXXIV. 
 
 V FUGITIVE from Leaven and pia} ci 
 I inock'd ot all rdigiuuH Tear, 
 Deep wcionc'd in the nm/.y lore 
 Of mud phiIo8ophy ; bul now 
 Hoiut huil; und buck my voyugo plouj;!» 
 To that blcbl hurbour, wliioh I left bcfou-. 
 
 Per lo ! tbat uwfnl bcnvcnly Siio, 
 
 Who fiequont rliNivcM ihn cbjuda with lljT^ 
 
 Parent of tluy, ininiurtul Jove, 
 fiOtu through the floiitini; ficklH (jf uir, 
 The face of licavrn Hcrono and fair, 
 His thundering 8toedH and winged chariot di ov( 
 
 When, at the burrtting of Iuh flamoii, 
 Tiio ponderoui ourth, und vugruul Htrt'ums 
 
 Infernal Styx, tho diri« iibodu 
 Of hi\t«ful Tffiuuru* profoun<J, 
 And AtluH to hiH iitmoHt bound, 
 I'roniblcd beneath the terror» of the god . 
 
 Tlic hand of Jov« can cruwh the proud 
 Down to iho nioanoNt ol" the crowd, 
 AndraiHOthu lowent in hi» ntcud ; 
 But rapid Fortune pull» liiin down, 
 And Bnatchet) hiu iinpuriul crown, 
 I'o place, not fix it, on unolhor'a hoad.
 
 €4 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE XXXV. 
 
 TO FORTUNE. 
 
 GODDESS, whom Antium, beauteous towiT, 
 obeys, 
 Whose various will with instant power can raise 
 Erail mortals from the depths of low despair, 
 Or change proud triumphs to the funeral tear : 
 
 Thee the poor farmer, who with ceaseless pain 
 Labours the glebe ; thee, mistress of the main, 
 The sailor, who with fearless spirit dares 
 The rising tempest, courts with anxious prayers : 
 
 Thee the rough Dacian, thee the vagrant band 
 Of field-born Scythians, Latium's warlike land, 
 Cities and nations, mother-queens revere, 
 And purple tyranny beholds with fear. 
 
 Nor in thy rage with foot destructive spurn 
 This standing pillar, and its strength o'erturu; 
 Nor let the nations rise in bold uproar. 
 And civil war, to break th' imperial power. 
 
 With solemn pace and firm, in awful state 
 Before thee stalks inexorable Fate, 
 And grasps empaling nails, and wedges dread, 
 The book tormentous, and the melted lead : 
 
 Thee Hope and Honour, now, alas, how rare f 
 With white enrob'd, attend with duteous care. 
 When from th& palace of the Great you fly 
 fn ar^gry mood, and garb of misery.
 
 ODES, BOOK I. «i 
 
 Not such the crowd of light companions prove^ 
 Nor the false mistress of a wanton love, j 
 
 Faithless who wait thejlowest dregs to drain, 
 Nor friendship's equal yoke wtth strength sustaiV; 
 
 Propitious guard our Caesar, who explores 
 His vent'rous way to farthest Britain's shores 
 Our new-rais'd troops be thy peculiar care, 
 Who dreadful to the East our banners bear. 
 
 Alas ! the shameless scars ! the guilty deeds. 
 When by a brother's hand a brother bleeds ! 
 What crimes have we, an iron age, not dar'd? 
 In terror of the gods what altar spar'd ? 
 
 Oh 1 that our swords with civil gore distain'd. 
 And in the sight of gods and men profan'd — 
 Sharpen again, dread queen, the blunted steel. 
 Am] let O'j.r foes the pointed vengeance feel 
 
 Vol. I.
 
 66 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXXVI. 
 
 WITH incense heap the sacred fire^ 
 And bolder strike the wilhng lyre. 
 Now let the heifer's votive blood ; 
 Pour to the gods its purple flood : 
 Those guardian gods, from farthest Spain. 
 Who send our Numida again. 
 
 A thousand kisses now he gives, 
 A thousand kisses he receives. 
 But Lamia most his friendship proves,, 
 Lamia with tenderness he loves. 
 At school their youthful love began, 
 Whence they together rose to man. 
 
 With happiest marks the day shall sliinf- 
 Nor want th' abundant joy of wine : 
 Like Salian priests the dance we'll lead;, 
 And many a mazy measure tread. 
 Now let the Thracian goblet foam, 
 Nor in the breathless draught o'ercome 
 Shall Bassus yield his boasted name 
 To Danialis of tipling fame. 
 
 Here let the rose and lily shed 
 Their short -liv'd bloom ; lot parsley spr^aa 
 Its living verdure o'er the feast, 
 And crown with mingled sweets the guest. 
 On Damalis each amorous boy 
 Shall gaze with eyes that flow with joy, 
 While she, as curls the ivy-plant, 
 Slinll twine luxurfanl round her new sallaiK
 
 ODES, BOOK I. 6'/ 
 
 ODE XXXVII. 
 
 TO HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 iVOW let the bowl with wine be crowned, 
 Now lighter dance the mazy round, 
 And let the sacred couch be stor'd 
 Whh the rich dainties of a priestly boarth 
 
 Sooner to draw the mellow'd wine, 
 Prest from the rich Caecubian vine, 
 Were impious mirth, while yet elate 
 The queen breath'd ruin to the Roman gtatc-. 
 
 . Surrounded by a tainted train, 
 Wretches enervate and obscene, 
 She r^v'd of empire — nothing less — 
 V'ast in her hopes, and giddy with success-. 
 
 But, hardly rescued from the flames, 
 One lonely ship her fury tames ; 
 While Caesar with impelling oar 
 -I'ursu'd her flying from the the Latian sliore : 
 
 Her, with Egyptian wine inspir'd, 
 With the full draught to madness fird, 
 Augustus sober'd into tears. 
 And turn'd her visions into real fears. 
 
 As darting sudden from above 
 The hawk attacks a tender dove ; 
 Or sweeping huntsman drives the hare 
 C&r witte iEmonia's icy deserts dVear;
 
 63 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 So Caesar through the billows pressVl 
 To lead in chains the fatal pest : 
 But she a nobler fate explored, , 
 Nor woman-like beheld the deathful swonl 
 
 Nor with hftr navy fled dismay'd, 
 In distant realms to seek for aid, 
 But sawunmov'd her state destroyed,. 
 Her palace desolate, a lonely void : 
 
 With fearless hand she dar'd to grasp 
 The writhings of the wrathful asp, 
 And suck the poison through her vein?, 
 Resolv'd on death, and fiercer from its pain 
 
 Then scorning to be led the boast 
 Of mighty Caesar's naval host, 
 And arm'd with more than mortal spleen. 
 >>efrauds a triumph, and expires a queen •
 
 ODES, BOOK T 
 
 ODE XXXVIII. 
 
 TO HIS SLAVE. 
 
 I TELL thee, boy, that I detest 
 The grandeur of a Persian feast;, 
 Nor for me the linden's rind 
 Shall the flowery chaplet bind : 
 Then search not where the curious rose 
 Beyond his season loitering grows. 
 But beneath the mantling vine 
 While I quaff the flowing wine, 
 The myrtle's wreath shall crown our browi 
 While you shall wait, and I carouse-.
 
 ODES. 
 
 BOOK 11. 
 
 ODE I. 
 TO ASINIUS POLLIO 
 
 O POLLIO, thou the great defence 
 
 Of sad impleaded innocence. 
 
 On whom, to weigh the grand debato^ 
 
 In deep consult the fathers wait ; 
 V^or whom the triumphs o'er Dalmatia spreac- 
 I'nfading honours round thy laureFd heat^, 
 
 Of warm commotions, wrathful jars, 
 The growing seeds of eivil wars ; 
 Of double Fortune's cruel games. 
 The specious means, the private aim?- 
 
 And fatal frienships of the guilty great-. 
 
 Mas ! how fatal to the Roman state ! 
 
 Of mighty legions late subdu'd, 
 
 And arms with Latian blood imbru'd. 
 
 Yet unaton'd (a labour vast ! 
 
 Doubtful the dye, and dire the cast 1) 
 Vou treat adventurous, and incautious treat'l 
 On fire.-j \^ith faitlite.=s embers oversjireaM i
 
 :.:J the works of HORACE 
 
 Retard awhile thy glowing vein, 
 Nor swell the solemn, tragic scene ; 
 And when thy sage, historic cares 
 Have form'd the train of Rome's affairs. 
 With lofty rapture re-inflam'd, infuse 
 Heroic thoughts, and wake the buskin'd Muse 
 
 Hark ! the shrill clarion's voice I hear, 
 Its threatning murmurs pierce mine ear ; 
 And in thy lines, with brazen breath, 
 The trumpet sounds the charge of death ; 
 While the strong splendors of the sword affrigi 
 The flying steed, and mar the rider's sight ! 
 
 Panting with terror, I survey 
 The martial host in dread array. 
 The chiefs, how valiant and how just ! 
 Defil'd with not inglorious dust, 
 And all the world in chains, but Cato see 
 Of spirit unsubdu'd, and dying to be fre«- 
 
 Imperial Juno, fraught with ire, 
 And all the partial gods of Tyre, 
 W^ho, feeble to revenge her cries, 
 Retreated to their native skies. 
 Have in the victor's bleeding race repaid 
 .lugurtha's ruin, and appeas'd his shade. 
 
 What plain, by mortals travers'd o'er. 
 
 Is not enrich'd with Roman gore ? 
 
 Unnumber'd sepulchres record 
 
 The deathful harvest of the sword. 
 And proud Hesperia, rushing into thrall. 
 While distant Parthia heard tlie cumbrous fi}'
 
 ODES, BOOK II. 
 
 What gulf, what rapid river flows 
 TJnconscious of our wasteful woes ? 
 What rolling sea's unfathom'd tide 
 Have not the Daunian slaughters dy'd ? 
 What coast, encircled by the briny flood, 
 Boasts not the shameful tribute of our blood .' 
 
 But thou, my Muse, to whom belong 
 The sportive jest and jocund song, 
 Beyond thy province cease to stray. 
 Nor vain revive the plaintive lay : 
 Seek humbler measures, indolently laid 
 With me beneath some love^sequester'd shade 
 
 Vol. I,
 
 ri THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 Ot>E 11. 
 
 TO CRISPIUS SALLUST1U& 
 
 GOLD hath no lustre of its own, 
 It shhies by temperate use alone, 
 And when in earth it hoarded lies, 
 My Sallust can the mass despise. 
 
 With never-failing wing shall Fame- 
 To latest ages bear the name 
 Of Proculeius, who could prove 
 A father, in a brother's love. 
 By virtue's precepts to controul 
 The furious passions of the soul 
 Is over wider realms to reign, 
 Unenvied Monarch, than if Spain 
 You could to distant Lybia join, 
 And both the Carfhages were thine. 
 
 The Dropsy, by indulgence nurs'd. 
 Pursues us with increasing thirst, 
 Till art expells the cause, and drains 
 The watery langouc from our veins. 
 But Virtue can the crowd unteach 
 Their false, mistaken forms of speech ;- 
 Virtue, to crowds a foe profest, 
 Disdains to number with the bl^st 
 Phraates, by his slaves ador'd, 
 And to tlie Parthian crown restor'd, 
 And gives the diadem, the throne, 
 And laurel wreath, to him alone 
 Who can atreasur'd mass of gold 
 With firm, undazzled eve behold.
 
 ODES, BOOK IL 75 
 
 ODE III. 
 TO DELLIUS. 
 
 4.\ adverse hours an^equal mind maintain^ 
 
 Nor let your spirit rise too high, 
 Though Fortune kindly change the scene 
 
 Remember, Dellius, you were born to die.- 
 
 Whether your life in sorrows pass, 
 
 And sadly joyless glide away ; 
 Whether, reclining on the grass, 
 
 You bless with choicer wine the festal day, 
 
 Where the pale poplar and the pine 
 
 Expel the sun's intemperate beam, 
 In hospitable shades their branches twine, 
 
 And winds with toil, though swift, the tremulous 
 stream. 
 Here pour your wines, your odours shed, 
 
 Bring forth the rose's short-liv'd flower, 
 While Fate yet spins thy mortal thread, 
 
 While youth and fortune give th' indulgent hour 
 
 Vour purchas'd woods, your house of state. 
 Your villa, wash'd by Tiber's wave, 
 
 Vou must, my Dellius, yield to Fate, 
 And to your heir these high-pil'd treasures llav?. 
 
 VVhether you boast a monarch's birth, 
 While wealth unbounded round you flov^s; 
 
 Or poor, and sprung from vulgar earth. 
 No pity for his victim Pluto knoWs. 
 
 We all mast tread the paths of Fate ; 
 
 And ever shakes the mortal urn. 
 Whose lot embarks us, soon or late, 
 
 On Charon's boat, ah ! never fb retm-n.
 
 ;6 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 TO XANTHIA9 PHOCEUS. 
 
 LET not my Pboceus think it shame 
 For a fair slave to own his flame ; 
 A slave could stern Achilles move, 
 And bend his haughty soul to love ; 
 \ja:c. invincible in arms, 
 SVas captiv'd by his captive's charms : 
 
 Atrides 'midst his triumphs mourn'd. 
 And for a ravish'd virgin burn'd, 
 What time the fierce barbarian bands 
 Fell by Pelides' conquering hands, 
 \.nd Troy (her Hector swept away) 
 Became to Greece an easier prey. 
 
 Who knows, when Phyllis is your bride. 
 i'o what fine folk you'll be allied ? 
 iler parents dear, of gentle race,. 
 Shall not their son-in-law disgrace. 
 iShe sprang from kings, or nothing les5. 
 And weeps the family's distress. 
 
 Think not that such a charming she 
 < 'an of the wretched vulgar be, 
 A maid^ so faithful and so true 
 To love, to honour, and to you ! 
 Iler dear mamma, right-virtuous dame, 
 Could ne'er have known the blush of shame 
 
 While thus with innocence I praise, 
 f ,et me no jealous transports raise. 
 Ileai-t-whole and sound I laud her charm*:, 
 tier face, her taper legs, her arms ; 
 For, trembling on to forty years. 
 Uy o.ge forbids a!l jealous fears.
 
 ODES, BOOK II. 
 
 ODE V. 
 
 SEE, thy heifer's yet unbroke 
 To the labours of the yoke, 
 Nor hath strength enough to prove 
 Such impetuous weight of love. 
 Round the fields her fancy strays, 
 O'er the mead she sportive plays ; 
 Now beneath the sultry beam 
 Cools her in the passing stream, 
 Now with frisking steerlings young 
 Sports the sallow groves among. 
 
 Do not then commit a rape 
 On the crude, unraellow'd grape : 
 Autumn soon, of various dyes, 
 Shall with kinder warmth arise, 
 Bid the livid clusters glow, 
 And a riper purple show. 
 
 Time to her shall count each day 
 Which from you it takes away. 
 Till with bold and forward charms 
 She shall rush into your arras. 
 Pholoe, the flying fair, 
 Shall not then with her compare ; 
 Nor the maid of bosom bright, * 
 Like the moon's unspotted light, 
 O'er the waves, with silver rays. 
 When its floating lustre plays ; 
 Nor the Cnidian fair and young, 
 Wh'j, the virgin-choir among,
 
 -^S THE WORKS OF HORACE - 
 
 Miglit deceive, in female guise, 
 Strangers, though extremely wise, 
 \Vith the difference between 
 Sexes hardly to be seen, 
 And his hair of flowing grace^ 
 And his boyish, girlish face.
 
 ODES, BOOK IL Ti> 
 
 ODE VL 
 
 TO SEPTIMIUS 
 
 4EPTIMIUS, who hast vow'd to go 
 
 With Horace even to farthest SpaiO; 
 Or seethe fierce Cantabrian foe. 
 Untaught to bear the Roman chain, 
 r)i: the bftrbaric S>rts, with mad recoil 
 Where Mauritanian billows ceaseless boil ; 
 
 May Tibur to my latest hours 
 
 Aftbrd a kind and calm retreat ; 
 Tibur, beneath whose lofty towers 
 The Grecians fix'd their blissful seat : 
 Wiere may my labours end, my wanderings cease^ 
 '('here all my toils of warfare rest in peace ! 
 
 But should the partial Fates reftise 
 That purer air to let me breathe, 
 Galesus, thy sweet stream I'll -choose, 
 Where flocks of richest fleeces bathe ; 
 Phalaatus there his rural sceptre sway'd, 
 Uncertain offspring of a Spartan maid. 
 
 No spot so joyous smiles to me 
 
 Of this wide globe's extended shores . 
 Where nor the labours of the bee 
 Yield toHymettus' golden stores, > 
 
 Nor the green berry of Venafran soil 
 v5 wells with a riper flood of fragrant oil.
 
 ; THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 There Jove his kindest gifts bestows, 
 
 There joys to crown the fertile plain.- 
 With genial warmth the winter glows, 
 And spring with lengthened honours reiv^ii 
 Vor Aulon, friendly to the clustering vine. 
 'iJnvies the vintage of Falernian wine. 
 
 That happy place, that sweet retreat. 
 
 The charming hills that round it rise. 
 Your latest hours and mine await : 
 
 And when at length your Horace dies. 
 There the deep sigh thy poet-friend shall niL 
 VivJ. pious tears bedew his glowing uin.
 
 ODES, BOOK II. Si 
 
 ODE VII. 
 TO POMPEIUS VARUS 
 
 VAPwUS, from early youth belov'd.. 
 
 And oft with me in danger prov'd, 
 
 Our daring host when Brutus led, 
 
 And in the cause of freedom bled, . 
 
 To Rome and all her guardian powers 
 
 What happy chance the friend restores^ 
 
 With whom I've cheer'd the tedious day.. 
 
 And drunk its loitering hours away, 
 
 Profuse of sweets while Syria shed 
 
 Her liquid odours on my head ? 
 With thee I saw Philippi's plain, 
 
 Its fatal rout, a fearful scene ! 
 And dropp'd, alas ! th' inglorious shield, 
 Where valour's self was forc'd to yield. 
 Where soil'd in dust the vanquish'd lay 
 And breath'd th' indignant soul away. 
 But me, when dying with my fear, 
 Tluough warring hosts, inwrapp'd in ai; . 
 Swift did the god of wit convey ; 
 While thee wild war's tempestuous sea 
 In ebbing tides drove far from shore, 
 And to new scenes of slaughter bore. 
 To Jove thy votive offerings paid, 
 
 ^ Beneath my laurel's shehering shade, 
 Fatigu'd whh war, now rest reclin'd. 
 Nor .spare the casks for thee desigu'd, 
 Heve joyous till the polish'd bowl,
 
 Sf! THE WORKS OF HORACt: 
 
 With wine oblivious cheer thy soul, 
 And from the breathing phials pour 
 Of essenc'd sweets a larger shower. 
 
 But who the wreath unfading weaves 
 *!>f parsley, or of myrtle leaves ? 
 ToTvhom shall beauty's <^ueen assign 
 To reign the monarch of our wine ? 
 For Thracian-like I'll drink to-day, 
 .\rtid deeply Bacchus it away. 
 •Our transports for a friend restor'd 
 ."?hTiuld cv'n to madness shake the boarc'i.
 
 ODES, BOOK n. 
 
 ODE VIII. 
 
 TO BARINE. 
 
 IF e'er th' insulted powers had shed 
 .Their vengeance on thy perjur'd head : 
 If they had mark'd thy faithless truth 
 With one foul nail, or blacken'd tooth, 
 Again thy falsehood might deceive, 
 And I the faithless vow believe. 
 
 But when, perfidious, you engage 
 To meet high heaven's vindictive rage. 
 You rise, with heigtenM lustre fair, 
 Of all our youth the public care. 
 
 It thrives with thee to be forsworn 
 By thy dead mother's hallow'd urn : 
 By heaven, and all the stars that roll 
 tn silent circuit rouird the pole : 
 By heaven, and every nightly sign, 
 By every deathless power divine.- 
 Yes ; Venus laughs, the nymphs with snii 
 The simple nymphs ! behold thy wiles, 
 And with the blood of some poor swain 
 By thy perfidious beauty slain, 
 Fierce Cupid whets his burning darts. 
 For thee to wound new lovers' hearts. 
 Thy train of slaves grows every day. 
 Infants are rising to thy sway ; 
 And they who swore to break thy cKain 
 yet haunt those impious doors agaim
 
 34 THE WORKS OF HORACE, 
 
 Thee for their boys the mothers fear, 
 The frugal father for his heir ; 
 And weeping stands the virgin bride, 
 In Hymen's fetters lately tied. 
 Lest you detain, with brighter charms, 
 fler perjur'd husband from her arms.
 
 ODES, BOOK II «5 
 
 ODE IX. 
 TO VALGIUS. 
 
 I NOR everlasting rain deforms 
 
 I The squalid fields ; nor endless stormf 
 
 j Inconstant, vex the Caspian main ; 
 
 I Nor on Armenia's frozen plain 
 
 I The loitering snovir unmelting lies ; 
 
 I T^or, loud, vrhen northern winds arise. 
 
 I The labouring forests bend the head. 
 
 Nor yet their leafy honours shed : 
 
 Yet still in elegiac strains 
 
 My Valgius for his son complaint 
 
 When Vesper lifts his evening ray. 
 
 Or flies the rapid beam of Day. 
 iVot for his son the Grecian sage. 
 
 Renown* d for thrice the mortal age ; 
 
 Not for their youthful brother dead, 
 ! Such sorrows Priam's daughters shed. 
 
 At length these weak complaints give (j'ti . 
 
 Indulge th' unmanly grief no more : 
 ! But let us bolder sweep the string, 
 I And Caesars new-rais'd trophies sing 
 i The Tigris, and its freezing flood. 
 
 Euphrates, with its realms, subdu'd ; 
 ' Whose waves are taught with humbler prio» 
 ; Smoother to roll their lessening tide ; 
 
 The Scjthians, who reluctant yield. 
 
 Nor pour their squadrons o'er the field.
 
 aG THE WORKS OF HORACK 
 
 ODE X. 
 TO LICINIUS MURENA, 
 
 LICINIUS, would you live with ease, 
 Tempt not too far the faithless seas, 
 And when you hear the tempest roar;. 
 Press not too near th' unequal shore. 
 The man, within the golden mean 
 Who can his boldest wish contain, 
 Securely views the ruin'd cell, 
 Where sordid want and sorrow dwell, 
 And, in himself serenely great. 
 Declines an envied room of state. 
 
 When high in air the pine ascends^ 
 To every ruder blast it bends. 
 The palace falls with heavier weight, 
 When tumbling from its airy height ; 
 And when from heaven the lightning fiiefi^ 
 It blasts the hills that proudest rise. 
 
 Whoe'er enjoys the untroubled breast, 
 With virtue's tranquil wisdom blest, 
 With hope the gloomy hour can cheer, 
 And temper happiness with fear. 
 
 If Jove the winter's horrors bring, 
 Yet Jove restores the genial spring. 
 Then let us not of fate complain, 
 For soon shall change the gloomy scene. 
 Apollo sometimes can inspire 
 ThQ Silent MuSe, upd wake the lyre :
 
 ODES; BOOK n. 
 
 The clealbful bow not always pli^s, 
 I'll' unerring dart not always flies. 
 When Fortune, various goddess, lowers^ 
 Collect your strength, exert your powers ; 
 Uut, when she breathes a kinder gale, 
 R^ wi^e. an5 furl your swelling saij.
 
 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XI. 
 TO QUINTIUS HIRPINLS 
 
 BE not anxious, friend, to know 
 What our fierce Cantabrian foe, 
 What intends the Scythian's pride,. 
 Far from us whom seas divide. 
 Tremble not with vain desires, 
 Few the things which life requires. 
 Youth with rapid swiftness flies, 
 Beauty's lustre quickly dies, 
 Withered Age drives far away 
 Gentle sleep and amorous play. 
 
 When in vernal bloom they glow. 
 Flowers their gayest honours show. 
 Nor the moon with equal grace 
 Always lifts her ruddy face. 
 Thus while nature's works decay, 
 Busy mortal, prithee say, 
 Why do you fatigue the mind, 
 Not for endless schemes designed t 
 
 Thus beneath this lofty shade, 
 Thus in careless freedom laid. 
 While Assyrian essence sheds 
 Liquid fragrance on our heads, 
 While we lie with roses crown'd; 
 Let the cheerful bowj go round : 
 Bacchus can our cares controul.. 
 <""ares that prey upon the soul.
 
 [ODES, BOOK II. 
 
 Wiio sball from the passing stream 
 Quench our wine's Falernian flame ? 
 Who the vagrant wanton bring, 
 Mistress of the lyric string, 
 With her flowing tresses tied, 
 f?«JOffeh-. Ji&e a Snartan bride ? 
 
 » wL'. if
 
 DC THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE xn. 
 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 INUMANTIA'S wars, for years maiataiivJ; 
 
 Or Hannibal's vindictive ire, 
 Or seas with Punic gore distain'd, 
 
 Suit not the softness of my feeble lyre . 
 
 l^or savage Centaurs mad with wine, 
 Nor Earth's gigantic rebel brood, 
 
 Who shook old Saturn's scats divine,- 
 Till by the arm of Hercules subdu'd 
 
 i'^ou in historic prose shall tell 
 The mighty power of Caesar's war ; 
 
 How kings beneath his battle fell, 
 
 Or dragg'd indignant his triumphal car. 
 
 Licymnia's dulcet voice, her eye 
 Bright-darting its resplendent ray, 
 
 ifer breast, where love and friendship lie, 
 The muse commands me sing in softer lay 
 
 In raillery the sportive jest. 
 Graceful her mien in dancing charms. 
 When playful at Diana's feast 
 To the bright virgin choir she v/inds her ain; 
 
 Sa}', shall the wealth by kings possest. 
 
 Or the rich diadems they v/ear, 
 * )r all the tresures of the East, 
 
 Purchase one lock of my Licymnia's hair '' 
 
 W^hile now her bending neck she plica 
 Backward to meet the burning kiss, 
 
 riien with an easy cruelty denies. 
 Yet wishes you would suatch. not ask tl:o iji-
 
 ODES. BOOK II 91 
 
 ODE XIII. 
 
 WHOEVER, rals'd and planted thee,. 
 
 Unlucky and pernicious tree, 
 
 Tn hour accurs'd with impious hand 
 
 (Thou bane and scandal of my land) 
 
 Well may I think the parric 1e 
 
 In blood his guilty soul haf' - .^ed, 
 
 Or plung'd his dagger in tiie breast^, 
 
 At midnight, of his sleeping guest, 
 
 Or tempered every baleful juice 
 
 Which poisonous Colchian glebes produce 
 
 Or, if a blacker crime be known, 
 
 That crime the wretch had made his own, 
 
 Who on my harmless grounds and me 
 
 Bestow'd thee, luckless, falling tree. 
 
 While dangers hourly round U3 wait, 
 Na caution can prevent our fate. 
 All other deaths the sailor dares, 
 Who yet the raging ocean fears ; 
 The Parthian views with deep dismay 
 The Roman chains, and firm array ; 
 The Roman dreads the Parthian's speed, 
 His flying war, and backward reed ; 
 While Death, unheeded, sweeps away 
 The world, his everlasjing prey. 
 
 How near was I those dreary plains, 
 Where Pluto's auburn consort reigns ; 
 Wliere awful sits the judge of hell ; 
 WhsjFe pious spirits blissful dwell ; 
 NVhere Sappho's sweet complaints roproYe 
 The rivals of her fame and love.
 
 32 THE WORKS OF HORACK 
 
 Alcaeus bolder sweeps the strings, 
 And seas, and war, and exile sings ? 
 
 Thus while they strike the various lyre; 
 TJie ghosts the sacred sounds admire ; 
 But when Alcaeus tunes the strain 
 To deeds of war, and tyrants slaiir, 
 In thicker crowds the shadowy throng 
 Drink deeper down the martial song. 
 What wonder ? when with bending ears 
 The dog of hell astonish'd hears, 
 \nd, in the Furies' hair entwin'd, 
 Vhe snakes with cheerful horror wind ; 
 While, charm'd by the melodious strains. 
 The tortur'd ghosts forget their pains, 
 Orion quits his bold delight, 
 To chase the lion's rage, or lynx's fl^ht.
 
 ODES; BOOK II. 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 TO POSTUaiUS. 
 
 ! How swiftly glide our flying years "; 
 I Alas ! nor piety nor tears 
 
 Can stop the fleeting day ; 
 Deep-furrowM wrinkles, posting age,. 
 And death's unconquerable rage, 
 Are strangers to delay. 
 
 Though every day a bull should blejqjS 
 To Pluto, bootless were the deed, 
 
 The monarch tearless reigns, 
 Where vulture-tortur'd Tityos lies, 
 And triple Geryons monstrous size 
 
 The gloomy wave detains. 
 
 Whoever tastes of earthly food 
 Is doom'd to pass the joyless flood, 
 
 And hear the Stygian roar ; 
 The sceptred king, who rules the caT.tl]'. 
 The labouring hind, of humbler birth. 
 
 Must reach the distant shore. 
 
 TJie broken surge of Adria's main, 
 Hoarse-sounding, we avoid in vain, 
 
 And Mars in blood-stainM arms ; 
 Th<d st)utliern blast in vain we fear^ 
 And autumn's life-annoying air 
 
 With idl.e fears alarms :
 
 114 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 For all must see Cocytus flow, 
 'WTiose gloomy water sadly slow. 
 
 Strays through the dreary soil. 
 The guilty maids, an ill-fam'd train I 
 And, Sisyphus, thy labours vain, 
 Condemned to endless toil. 
 
 i''our pleasing consort must be left. 
 And you, of villas, lands, bereft, 
 
 Must to the shades descend ; 
 The cypress only, hated tree ! 
 Of all thy much-lov'd groves, shall thee; 
 
 Its short-liv'dlord, attend. 
 
 Tiien shall your worthier heir discharge 
 And set th' imprisoned casks at large. 
 
 And dye the floor with wine, 
 So rich and precious, not the feasts 
 OT holy pontiffs cheer their guests 
 
 With liquor more divine.
 
 ODES, BOOK H. 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 IN royal pride our buildings rise. 
 The useless plough neglected lies ; 
 Ponds broad as lakes our fields o'erspread 
 Th' unmarried plane high waves the head 
 Above the elm ; while all around, 
 Wafting their fragrance o'er the grounr' 
 Where once the olive pour'd its shade. 
 And its rich master's cares repaid. 
 The violet and myrtle greets 
 The senses with a waste of sweets 
 While vainly would Apollo's ray 
 Through our thick laurels pour the da} 
 
 Not such were Cato's sage decree-'. 
 Nor Romulus by arts lik« these 
 In wisdom form'd th' imperial svvii} . 
 And bid th' unwilling world obey ; 
 Though small each personal estste.. 
 The public revenues were great ; 
 Arcades were then by law confin'd; 
 Ncr openM to the northern wind : 
 Gir turf, or brick, whSre Fortune pleas'i, 
 The private dwelling humbly rais'd. 
 While awful to the powers divine 
 flose high to heaven the sacred shrine. 
 ind all the public structures shone 
 ^ni irh'd with ornamental stone.
 
 O^ THE WORKS OF HORACE*. 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 TO POMPEIUS GROSPHUS? 
 
 CAUGHT in the wild iEgsean seas,. 
 The Sailor bends to heaven for ease, 
 While clouds the moon's fair lustre Iiide^ 
 And not a star his course to guide, 
 furious in war the Thracian prays. 
 The quiver'd Mede, for ease, for easC; 
 4 blessing never to be sold 
 Por gems, for purple, or for gold; 
 ;\orcan the consul's power contfoltl 
 The sicklj' tumults of the soul, 
 Or bid the cares to stand aloof 
 That hover round the vaulted roof ? 
 
 Happy the man whose frugal boam 
 His father's plenty can afford ; 
 His gentle sleep nor anxious fear 
 Shall drive away, nor sordid care. 
 
 Why do we aim with eager strife 
 At things beyond the mark of life ? 
 To climates warm'd by other suns 
 In vain the wretched exile runs ; 
 Flies from his country's native skie,*, 
 But never from himself he flies ; 
 <J'orroding cares incessant charge 
 His flight, and climb his armed ba^rge, 
 Or though he mount the rapid steed 
 *^are follows with unerring speedy. 
 
 I
 
 ODES, BOOK IT 
 
 . fleeter than the timorous hind 
 ■AC fleeter than the driving wind. 
 The spirit that, serenely gay, 
 Careless enjoys the present day, 
 Can with an easy, cheerful smile 
 The bitterness of life beguile ; 
 Nor fears the approaching hour of r'av • 
 Nor hopes for human bliss complete 
 
 Achilles perish'd in his prime, 
 Tithon was worn away by time, 
 And Fate, with lavish hand, to me 
 May grant what it denies to thee. 
 \ hundred bleating flocks are thine_i 
 A round thee graze thy lowing kine ; 
 iSeighing thy mares invite the reins. 
 Thy robes the twice-dy'd purple stai;:> 
 On me not unindulgent Fate 
 Bestow'd a rural, calm ire treat, 
 Where I may tune the Roman lyre, 
 4nd warm the song with Grecian fire . 
 Then scorn, in conscious virtue proud, 
 e worthless malice of the crowd. 
 
 Vol, T.
 
 t.ij THE WORKS OF HORAGF. 
 
 ODE XVII. 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 WHY will Maecenas thus complain. 
 Why kill me with the tender strain ? 
 Nor can the gods nor I consent 
 That yoU; my life's great ornament, 
 Should sink untimely to the tomb, 
 While I survive the fatal doom. 
 
 Should you, alas ! be snateh'd away,- 
 Wherefore, ah ! wherefore should I stay 
 My value lost, no longer whole, 
 And but possessing half my soul ? 
 One day, believe the sacred oath. 
 Shall lead the funeral pomp of both , 
 With thee to Pluto's dark abode, 
 With thee Fll tread the dreary road. 
 Nor fell Chimrera's breath of fire. 
 Nor hundred-handed Gyas dire, 
 Shall ever tear my friend from me ; 
 So Justice and the Fates decree. 
 
 Whether fair Libra's kinder sign, 
 Or Scorpius with an eye malign 
 Beheld my birth (whose gloomy powci 
 Rules dreadful o'er the natal hour ;) 
 Or Capricorn, with angry rays 
 V/ho shines the tyrant of the seas,. 
 With equal beams our stars unite, 
 And strangely shed their mingled liglil. 
 Thee Jove's bright influence snatcli'd av. ?;v 
 From baleful Saturn's impious ray. 
 
 II
 
 ODES, BOOK II, ^ 
 
 And stopp'd the rapid wings of Fa(e. 
 When the full theatre^ elate, 
 With joyful transports hail'd thy name 
 And thrice upraia'd the loud acclaim. 
 
 A tree, when falling on my head. 
 Had surely crushed me to the dead. 
 But Pan, the poet's guardian, broke 
 With saving hand, the destin'd strolcc. 
 For thee, let the rich victim's blood 
 Pour forth to Jove its purple flood ; 
 For thee, the votive temple rise ; 
 Por me, a humbje lambkin dies .
 
 100 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE xvni 
 
 NO walls, with ivory inlaid, 
 Adorn my hopse ; no colonnade 
 Proudly supports my citron beams. 
 Nor rich with gold my ceiling flames , 
 Nor have I, like an heir unknown, 
 Seiz'd upon Attains his throne ; 
 Nor dames, to happier fortunes bred. 
 Draw dowK for me the purple thread ; 
 Vet with a firm and honest heart, 
 Unknov/ing or of fraud or art, 
 A liberal vein of genius blest, 
 I'm by the rich and great carest. 
 My patron's gift, my Sabine field 
 Shall all its rural plenty yield, 
 And, happy in that rural store, 
 Of heaven and him I ask no more. 
 Day presses on the heels of day, 
 And moons increase to their decay '. 
 But you, with thoughtless pride elat^. 
 Unconscious of impending fate, 
 Command the pillar'd dome to rise. 
 When lo ! thy tomb forgotten lies, 
 And, though the waves indignant roar. 
 Forward you urge the Eaian shore, 
 While earth's too narrow bounds in vaii 
 Your guilty pi-ogress would restrain,- 
 The sticreu landmark strives in vain 
 Vour impious avarice to restrain ;
 
 ODES, BOOK II. 101 
 
 You break into your neighbour's gcounds, 
 And overleap your client's bounds. 
 Driven out by thee, to new abodes 
 They carry their paternal g^cds ; 
 The wife her husband s sorrow shares, 
 And on her breast her squalid infants bears. 
 
 Yet, destin'd by unerring- Fate, 
 Shall death this wealthy lord await ; 
 Then whither tend thy wide deniesnes 1 
 For Earth impartial entertains 
 Her various sons, and in ber breast 
 Princes and beggars equal rest. 
 
 Nor gold could bribe, nor art deceive, 
 The gloomy life-guard of the grave 
 Backward to tread the shadowy way, 
 And waft Prometheus into day. 
 Yet he who Tantalus detains, 
 With all his haughty race, in chains, 
 Invok'd or not, the wretch receives, 
 And from the toils of life relieves.
 
 m THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 O.DE XIX. 
 
 TO BACCHUS. 
 
 f SAW (let future times believe) 
 The god of wine his lectures give ; 
 
 'Midst rocks far distant was the scene 
 With ears erect the satyrs stood, 
 And every goddess of the wood 
 
 Listened th' instructive, solenan strai.tb 
 
 The recent terror heaves my breast, 
 Yet, with th' inspiring power possest, 
 
 Tumultuous joys my soul have warm'd : 
 Dreadful, who shak'st the ivy speav, 
 'IHiy votary thus prostrate hear, 
 
 And be thy rage, thy rage disarm'd. 
 
 Give mete sing, by thee inspired, 
 Thy priestesses to madness fir'd ; 
 
 Fountains of wine shall pour along, 
 Vnd, melting from the hollow tree, 
 The golden treasures of the bee, 
 
 And streams of milk shall fill the sl)ng 
 
 Fair Ariadne's crowft shall rise. 
 And add new glories to the skies : 
 
 While I to listening nations tell 
 flow impious Pentheus' palace burn'd. 
 With hideous ruin overturn'd, 
 
 A nd how the mad Lycurgus fell.
 
 ODES, BOOK II. iOru 
 
 InJus and Ganges own thy sway, 
 Barbaric seas thy power obey. 
 
 And o'er the pathless mountain's height 
 (Her head with horrid snakes enroll'd, 
 Which harmless writhe their angry fold) 
 
 Thy raptur'd priestess speeds her flight. 
 
 Wlien rising fierce in impious arms, 
 The giant-race with dire alarms 
 
 Assail'dthe sacred realms of light, 
 With lion-wrath, and dreadful paw, 
 ^Mth blood-besraear"d and foaming jaw. 
 
 You put their horrid chief to flight. 
 
 For dancing form'd, for love and wit, 
 Yau seem'd for war's rude toils unfit, 
 
 And polish'd to each softer grace : 
 .But dreadful when in arms you shone. 
 You made the fatal art your own, 
 
 In war excelling as in peace. 
 
 With golden horn supremely bright, 
 Vou darted round the bending light 
 
 Far-beaming through the gloom of heli . 
 When Cerberus, with fear araaz'd. 
 Forgot his rage, and fawning gaz'd. 
 
 And at thy feet adoring fell.
 
 Jfji THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 ODE XX. 
 
 TO MiECENA-S. 
 
 WITH strong, unwonted wing I risC; 
 A two-form'd poet, through the skies. 
 Far above envy will I soar, 
 And tread this worthless earth no mOre. 
 For know, ye rivals of my fame, 
 TlTough lowly born, a vulgar name, 
 1 will not condescend to die, 
 Nor in the siygiaii waters lie. 
 
 A rougher akin now clothes my thighs 
 Into a swan's fair form I rise, 
 And feel the feather'd plumage shed 
 Its down, and o'er my shoulders spread 
 Swift as with Dsedalean wing, 
 Harmonious bird^ I'll soaring sing, 
 And, in my flight, the foamy shores 
 Where Bosphorus tremendous roars. 
 The regions hound by northern 'cold^ 
 And Lybia's burning sands, behold. 
 Then to the learned sons of Spain, 
 To him who ploughs the Scythian main 
 To him who, with dissembled fears, 
 Conscious, the Roman arm.s reveres, 
 To him who drinks the rapid Rhone, 
 iSliall Horace, deathless bard ! be known 
 
 My friends, the funeral sorrow spare. 
 The plaintive song, and tender tear ; 
 IVor let the voice of grief profane 
 With loud laments the solemn scene 
 Nor o'er your poet's empty urn 
 With useless, idle sorrows mourn
 
 ODES. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 ODE I. 
 
 MONAECHS on earth their power extend-, 
 Monarchs to Jove submissive bend. 
 
 And own the sovereign god, 
 With glorious triumph who subdu'd 
 The Titan race, gigantic brood! 
 
 And shakes whole nature with his nofl> 
 
 When rival candidates contend,. 
 And to the field of Mars descend 
 
 To urge th' ambitious claim, 
 Some of illustrious birth are proud. 
 Some of their clients vassal crowd. 
 
 And some of virtue's fame. 
 
 Others the rural labour love, 
 
 And joy to plant the spreading grove,. 
 
 The furrow'd glebe to turn ; 
 Yet with impartial hand shall Fato 
 Both of the lowly and the great 
 
 Shake the capacious urn.
 
 m THE WORKS OF HORACR. 
 
 Behold the wretch, with conscious dread, 
 Tn pointed vengeance o'er his head 
 
 Who views th' impending sword ; 
 Nor dainties force his pall'd desire, 
 Nor chant of birds, nor vocal lyre, 
 
 To him can sleep afford ; 
 
 Heart-soothing sleep, which not disdains 
 The rural cot, and humble swains, 
 
 And shady river fair : 
 Or Tempe's ever-blooming spring, 
 AVhere zephyrs wave the balmy wing, 
 
 And fan the buxom air. 
 
 Who nature's frugal dictates hears. 
 He nor the raging ocean fears, 
 
 Nor stars of power malign, 
 Whether in gloomy storms they rise, 
 Or swift descending through the skies- 
 
 With angry lustre sliine ; 
 
 Whether his vines be smit with hail, 
 Whether his promised harvests fail. 
 
 Perfidious to his toil ; 
 Whether his drooping trees complain 
 Of angry winter's chilling rain, 
 
 Or stars that burn the soil. 
 
 Not Such the iiaughty lord, who lays 
 His deep foundations in the seas, 
 
 And scorns earth's narrow bound ; 
 The fisi), affrighted, feel their waves 
 Contracted by his numerous slaves, 
 
 Even in the vast profound.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. lO: 
 
 High though his structures rise in air, - 
 Pale menaces, and black despair, 
 
 This haughty lord shall find 
 Oertake his armed galley's speed, 
 \nd when he mounts the flying steed. 
 
 Sits gloomy Care behind. 
 
 li purple, which the morn outshines ; 
 Or marble from the Phrygian mines, 
 
 Though labour'd high with art, 
 Tf essence, breathing sweets divine, 
 Or flowing bowls of generous wine, 
 
 III sooth an":anxious heart. 
 
 On columns, rais'd in modern style, 
 Why should I plan the lofty pile 
 
 To rise with envied state ; 
 Why, for a vain, superfluous store, 
 Which would encumber me the moit, 
 
 Resign my Sabine seat ?
 
 les THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE n. 
 
 TO HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 OUR hardy youth should learn to hear 
 
 Sharp want, to rein the warlike steed; 
 To hurl the well-directed spear 
 With pointed force, and bid the Parthian bleed. 
 
 Thus form'd in war's tumultuous trade 
 
 Through summer's heat, and winter's cold. 
 
 Some tyrant's queen, or blooming maid, 
 Shall from her walls the martial youth beliold : 
 
 •• Let not, alas ! my royal spouse, 
 
 Untaught the deathful sword to wield, 
 
 That lion in his anger rouse, 
 Whom furious rage drives through th'ensanguin'd 
 field." 
 
 What joys, what glories round him wai, 
 
 Who bravely for his country dies ! 
 While with dishonest wounds shall Fate 
 
 Relentless stab the coward as he flies. 
 
 With stainless lustre Virtue shines, 
 A base repulse nor knows, nor fears ; 
 
 Nor claims her honours, nor declines. 
 
 As the light air of crowds uncertain veers \ 
 
 To him who not deserves to die 
 
 She shows the paths which heroes trod, 
 
 Then bids him boldly tempt the sky. 
 Spurn off hrs mortal clay, and rise a godt
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 109 
 
 To silence due rewards we give ; 
 
 And they who mysteries reveal 
 Beneath my roof shall never live, 
 
 Shall never hoist with me the doubtful sail-. 
 
 When Jove in anger strikes the blow, 
 Oft with the bad the righteous bleed : 
 
 Vet with sure steps, though lame and slow, 
 Vengeant^ o'e.rtakfis the trerefbling vilJain'^ speed . 
 
 ^
 
 I JO THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 THE man, in conscious virtue bold, 
 Who dares his secret purpose hold,. 
 Unshaken hears the crowd's tumultuous ciieii-. 
 And the impetuous tyrant's angry brow defies. 
 
 Let the wild winds, that rule the seas 
 Tempestuous, all their horrors raise ; 
 liCt Jove's dread arm with thunders rend the 
 spheres, 
 .Heneath the crush of vi'orlds undaunted he appears. 
 
 Thus to the flamy towers above, 
 The vagrant hero, son of Jove, 
 Upsoar'd with strength his own, where Caesar lies, 
 .4nd quaffs, with glowing lips, the bowl's immortjfi 
 
 joys. 
 
 Lyaeus thus his tigers broke, 
 Fierce and indocile to the yoke ; 
 Thus from the gloomy regions of the dead, 
 On his paternal steeds, Rome's mighty founder fled , 
 
 When heaven's great queen with words benign 
 
 Address'd th' assembled powers divine 
 
 Troy, hated Troy, an umpire lewd, unjust, 
 And a proud foreign dame, have sunk thee to the 
 dust. 
 
 To me, and wisdom's queen decreed. 
 With all thy guilty race to bleed, «■ 
 
 What time thy haughty monarch's perjur'd sir6 jl 
 Mbck'd the defrauded gods, and robb'd them of thei:
 
 ODES, BOOK III. ill 
 
 The gaudy guest, of impious fame, 
 No more enjoys th' adulterous dame ; 
 Hector no more his faithless brothers leads 
 To break the Grecian force ; no more the viciov 
 bleeds. 
 
 Since the long war now sinks to peace. 
 And all our heavenly factions cease ; 
 Jnstant to Mars my vengeance I resign, 
 And here receive his son, though born of Trojan 
 line. 
 
 Here, with encircling glories bright, 
 Free let him tread the paths of light, 
 
 ■ And, rank'd among the tranquil powers divine. 
 
 Drink deep the nectar'd bowl, and quaff celestial 
 wine. 
 
 From Rome to Troy's detested shores, 
 While loud a length of ocean roars, 
 Uuenvied let th' illustrious exiles reign, 
 rt'here Fate directs their course, and spreails tire it- 
 wide domain. 
 
 On Priam's and th' adulterer's urn 
 While herds the dust insulting spurn, 
 Let the proud Capitol in glory stand, 
 And Rome,, to triumph'd Medes, give forth lif 
 stern command : 
 
 Let the victorious voice of Fame 
 Wide spread the terrors of her name, 
 Where seas the continents of earth divide, 
 id Mlus bathes the plain with h'is prolific (iflt
 
 m THE WORKS OP HORACE, 
 
 Let her the golden mine despise ; 
 For deep in earth it better lies, 
 Than when by hands profane, from nature's store.; 
 To human use compeird, flames forth the sacred 
 
 Where nature's utmost limits end, 
 Let her triumphant arms extend; 
 Or where the sun pours down his madding beams. , 
 Or where the clouds are dark, and rain perpetual 
 streams. 
 
 Thus let the warlike Romans reign 
 (So Juno and the Fates ordain,) 
 But on these terms alone, no more to dare, 
 Through piety or pride, their parent Troy repair ; 
 
 For Troy rebuilt, ill-omen'd state I 
 Shall feel the same avenging fate ; 
 Again my Grecians shall victorious prove, 
 By me led on to war, the sister-wife of Jove. 
 
 Thrice should Apollo raise her wall. 
 Thrice shall her brazen bulwarks fall, 
 Thrice shall her matrons feel the victor's cluiih. 
 Deplore their slaughtered sons, deplore their hu? = 
 bands slain. 
 
 But whither would the Muse aspire ? 
 Such themes nor suit the sportive lyre, 
 Nor should the wanton, thus in feeble strain, 
 The councils of the goda,, immortal themes ' piv 
 fafta. 
 
 'il
 
 ODES. BOOK III. Al; 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 TO CALLIOPE. 
 DESCEND from heaven, and in a lengtlieuM 
 
 strain, 
 Queen of melodious sounds, the song sustain, 
 Or on the voice high-rais'd the breathing flute, 
 ^Fhe lyre of golden tone, or sweet Phcebean lute. 
 
 Hark ! some celestial voice I raptur'd hear 1 
 Or does a pleasing phren.sy charm my ear ? 
 Through hallow'd groves I stray, where streams 
 
 beneath 
 From lucid fountains flow, and zepLjrs balmy 
 
 breathe. 
 
 Fatigued with skep, and youthful toil of play, 
 When on a mountain's brow reclin'd I lay 
 Near to ray natal soil, around my head 
 The fabled woodland doves a verdant foliage .«spread ; 
 
 Matter, be sure, of wonder most profound . 
 To all the gazing habitants around,. 
 Who dwell in Acherontia's airy glades, 
 Amid the Bantian woods, or low Ferenlum's raeads, 
 
 By snakes of poison black,, and beasts of prey, 
 That thus, in dewy sleep unharmd"d I lay ; 
 Laurels and myrtle were around ine pil d, 
 ^ot without guardian gods 5.n animated child. 
 
 Yours, I am ever yours, harmonious Nine, 
 Whether I joy in Tibur's vale supine ; 
 Whether I climb the Sabine mountain's iieighf^ 
 Or in Pra?ne=to's groves or Baian stream-s 'kliiih.. 
 Vol J, 10 *
 
 114 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Nor iree devoted, nor tempestuous main. 
 Nor flying hosts, that swept Philippi's plain 
 In fearful rout, your filial bard destroyed, 
 While in your springs divine and choral sport = iir 
 joy'd. 
 
 If by the Muses faithful guidance led, 
 Or Libya's thirsty sands I'll fearless tread, 
 Or climb the venturous bark, and launch fron 
 
 shore, 
 Though Bosphorus in storms with madJing horror- 
 
 roar. 
 
 Nor Britotts, of inhospitable strain, 
 Nor quiver'd Scythians, nor the Caspian man. 
 Nor he who joyous quaffs the thirsty bowl 
 -Streaming with horses' blood, shall shake u^j- 
 dauntless soul. 
 
 When Caesar, by your forming arts inspir'd. 
 Cheerful disbands his troops, of conquest th'u. 
 And yields to willing Peace his laurel'd spoils. 
 In the Pierian cave you charm the hero's toils ;. 
 
 Gracious from you the lenient counsels flow 
 
 Which bid the hero spare his prostrate foe ; 
 
 For Caesar rales like Jove, whose equal swoy 
 
 Tlie ponderous mass of earth and stormy seas obe ^ 
 
 O'er gods and mortals, o'er the dreary plains, 
 And shadowy ghosts, supremely just he reigns 
 But, dreadful in his wrath, to hell pursu'd, 
 With thuni^er's headlong rage, the fierce Titan'a. 
 brood,
 
 ODES, BOOK III. IIG 
 
 ^ Whose horrid youth, elate with impious pride, 
 Unnumberd, on the sinewy force relied : 
 Mountain on mountain pil'd they rais'd in air, 
 
 And shook the throne of Jove, and bad the Tl;uii* 
 dererfear. 
 
 But what could Mimas of enormous might, 
 Typhffius, or Porphyrion's threatning height, 
 Or bold Enceladus fierce darting far 
 The trunks of trees uptorn, dire archer of the war. 
 
 Though with despair and rage inspir'd they rose, 
 To sage Minerva's sounding shield oppose ? 
 While Vulcan here in flames devoured his way. 
 There irfatron Juno stood, and there the god of day, 
 
 Resolv'd, till he had quell'd th' aspiring foe, 
 Never to lay aside th' unerring bow. 
 He the pure dew of fair Castalia loves, 
 There bathes his flowing hair, and haunts his natal 
 groves. 
 
 ' ilUeounseird force, by its own native weight, 
 Precipitately falls ; with happier fate 
 While the good gods upraise the just design, 
 
 And bold, unhallow'd schemes pursue with wratli 
 divine. 
 
 This truth shall hundred-handed Gyas prove, 
 And warm Orion, who with impious love 
 Tempting the goddess of the sylvan scene, 
 VV,as by her virgin darts, gigantic victim I slain.
 
 116 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 On her own monsters hurrd, with hideous weighij. 
 Fond mother Earth deplores her offspring's fate'. 
 By thunders dire to livid Orcus doom'd, 
 Nor Sre can eat its way through ^Etna uncon- 
 sum'd. 
 
 Such are the pains to lawless lust decreed ; 
 On Tityos" liver shall the vulture ieed 
 With rage ungorg'd, while Pluto stern detains 
 His amorous rival bound in thrice an huudreu 
 chains.
 
 I 
 
 ODES, BOOK III. lir 
 
 ODE V. 
 
 THE PRAISES OF AUGUSTUS. 
 
 DREAD Jove in thunder speaks his just domain ; 
 On earth, a present god, shall Caesar reign, 
 Since world-divided Britain owns his sway, 
 iiid Parthia's haughty sons his high behests obey. 
 
 O name of country, once how sacred deem'd '. 
 O sad reverse of manners, once esteem'd ! 
 While Rome her ancient majesty maintain'd ; 
 • ,1 his own Capitol while Jove imperial reign'd; 
 
 Could they to foreign spousals meanly yield, 
 Whom Crassus led with honour to the field? 
 Have they, to their barbarian lords allied, 
 « aown old in hostile arms beneath a tyrant's pride. 
 
 Basely forgetful of the Roman name, 
 The heaven-descended shields, the Vestal flame. 
 That wakes eternal, and the peaceful gown, 
 fhose emblems which the Fates with boundles5 
 empire crown ? 
 
 When Regulus refus'd the terms of peace 
 Inglorious, he foresaw the deep disgrace, 
 Whose foul example should in ruin end, 
 And even to latest times our baffled arms attenlV 
 
 Unless the captive youth in servile?chains 
 Should fall unpitied. In the Punic fanes 
 '*' Have I not seen, the patriot captain cried, 
 The Roman ensigns fix'd in monumental pride
 
 lis THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 I saw our arms resign'd without a wound ; 
 Our free-born citizens in fetters bound ; 
 The gates of Carthage open, and the plain, 
 Late by our war laid waste, with culture cloilitl 
 again. 
 
 Ransom'd, no doubt, with nobler sense of fame 
 The soldier shall return — ^Ye purchase shame. 
 When the fair fleece imbibes the dyer's stain, 
 Its native colour lost it never shall regain, 
 
 And valour, failing in the soldier's breast. 
 Scorns to resume what cowardice possess'd. 
 When from the toils escap'd the hind shall turn 
 Fierce on her hunters, he the prostrate foe may 
 spurn 
 
 In second fight, who felt the fetters bind 
 His arms enslav'd ; who tamely hath resign'd 
 His sword unstain'd with blood ; who might have 
 died, 
 Yet on a faithless foe, with abject soul, relied ; 
 
 Who for his safety mix'd poor terms of peace 
 Even with the act of war ; O foul disgrace ! 
 O Carthage, now with rival glories great, 
 And on the ruins rais'd of Rome's dejected state -I 
 
 The hero spoke ; and from his wedded dame 
 And infant-children turn'd, opprest with shamn 
 Of his fallen state; their fond embrace fepell'd 
 And sternly on the earth his manly visage held
 
 ODES, BOOK III, 
 
 Till, by bis unexampled counsel swayd; 
 Their firm decree the wavering senate made ; 
 Then, while his friends the tears of sorrow shed, 
 Amidst the weeping throng the glorious exile sptdr 
 
 Nor did he not the cruel tortures know, 
 Vengeful, prepared by a barbarian foe ; 
 Yet, with a countenance serenely gay, 
 ile turn'd aside the crowd, who fondly pr&ss'd hirf 
 stay ; 
 
 As if, when wearied by some client's causC; 
 After the final sentence of the laws, 
 Cheerful lie hasted to some calm retreat, 
 rotable the pure delight?: that bless the rujal-seaf.
 
 120 THE WORKS OF HORACE- 
 
 ODE VI. 
 TO THE ROMANS. 
 
 THOUGH guiltless of your fathers" crime- 
 Roman, 'tis thine, to latest times, 
 The vengeance of the gods to bear, 
 Till you their awful domes repair, 
 Profan'd with smoke their statues raise, 
 And bid the sacred altars blaze. 
 
 That you the powers divine obey, 
 Boundless on earth extends your sway : 
 From hence your future glories date, 
 From hence expect the hand of Fate. 
 Th' offended gods, in horrors dire, 
 On sad Hesperia pour'd their ire : 
 The Parthian squadrons twice repell'd 
 Our inauspicious powers, and quell'd 
 Our boldest efforts, while they shone 
 With spoils from conquered Romans v. or.,. 
 The Dacians, whose unerring art 
 Can wing with death the pointed dart ; 
 Th' iEgyptian, for liis navies fam'd, 
 Had Neptune's boundless empire claim'J, 
 And almost in their rage destroyed 
 Imperial Rome, in civil strife employed. 
 
 Fruitful of crimes, this age first stainM 
 Their hapless offspring, and profan'd 
 The nuptial bed, from whence the woe?. 
 That various and unnumber'd rose 
 From this polluted fountain-head, 
 O'er Rome and o'er the nations spread,
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 121 
 
 With pliant limbs the tender maid 
 ^ '^ joys to learn the shameless trade 
 
 wanton dancing, and improves 
 J. ;.e pleasures of licentious loves ; 
 Then soon amid the bridal feast 
 Boldly she courts her husband's guest : 
 Her love no nice distinction knows ; 
 But round the wandering pleasure throws. 
 Careless to hide the bold delight 
 In darknees and the shades of night. 
 Nor does she need the thin disguise ; 
 The conscious husband bids her rise, 
 When some rich factor courts her charms, 
 And calls the wanton to bis arms, 
 Then, prodigal of wealth and fame, 
 Profusely buys the costly shame. 
 
 Not such the youth, of such a strain, 
 Who dyed with Punic gore the main ; 
 Who Pyrrhu's flying war pursu'd, 
 Antiochus the Great subdu'd, 
 And taught that terror of the field, 
 The cruel Hannibal,, to yield : 
 But a rough race, inur'd to toil, 
 With heavy spade to turn the soil. 
 And by a mother's will severe 
 To fell the wood, and liomeward bear 
 The ponderous load, even when the sun 
 His downward course of light had run, 
 And from the western mountain's head 
 His changing shadows iengthning spread, 
 Unyok'd the team, with toil opprest, 
 And gave the friendly hour of rest. 
 
 Vol. I. 11
 
 122 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 What feels not Time's consuming rage ? 
 More vicious than their fathers' age 
 Our sires begot the present race. 
 Of manners impious, bold and base . 
 And yet with crimes to us unknown^ 
 Our sons shall mark the coming age tlicir own.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 123 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 TO ASTERIE. 
 
 AH I why does Asterie thus weep for the youth 
 Of constancy faithful, of honour and truth, 
 Whom the first kindly zephyrs, that breathe o'er 
 
 the spring, 
 Enrich'd with the wares of Bithynia shall bring ? 
 Driven back from his course by the tempests, that 
 
 rise 
 When stars of mad lustre rule over the skiea, 
 At Oricum now poor Gyges must stay, 
 Where sleepless he weeps the cold winter away ; 
 While his landlady Chloe. in sorrow of heart, 
 Bids her envoy of love exert all his art, 
 Who tells him how Chloe, unhappy the dame ! 
 Deep sighs for your lover, and burns in your flame. 
 He tells him how Proetus, deceiv'd by his wife. 
 Attempted, ah dreadful ! Bellerophon's life. 
 And urg'd by false crimes, how he sought to de- 
 stroy 
 The youth for refusing, too chastely, the joy : 
 How Peleus was almost despatch'd to the dead, 
 While the lovely Magnessian abstemious he fled. 
 Then he turns every tale, and applies it with art, 
 To melt down his virtue, and soften his heart ; 
 But constant and heart-whole young Gyges ap- 
 pears, 
 And deafer than rocks the tale-teller hears. 
 Then, fair-one, take heed, lest Enipeus should prove 
 A little too pleasing, and tempt thee to love ;
 
 lU THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 And though without rival he shine in the course. 
 To rein the fierce steed though unequal his force, 
 Tho' matchless the swiftness with which he divides. 
 In crossing the Tiber; the rough-swelling tides. 
 Yet shut the fond door at evening's first shade. 
 Nor look down to the street at the soft serenade 
 Or if cruel he call thee in love-sighing strain, 
 Yet more and more cruel be sure to rcmain^
 
 ODES, BOOK 111. i-2o 
 
 ODE vm. 
 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 THE Greek and Roman languages are thine. 
 Their hallow'd customs, and their rites divine ; 
 And well you might the flowery wreaths admire. 
 The fragrant incense, and the sacred fire, 
 Rais'd on the living turf, to hail the day 
 To which the married world their homage pay. 
 
 When on my head a tree devoted fell, 
 And almost crush'd me to the shades of hell, 
 Grateful I vow'd to him, who rules the vine, 
 A joyous banquet, while beneath his shrine 
 A snow-white goat should bleed , and when the yeo) 
 Revolving bids this festal morn appear. 
 We'll pierce a cask with mellow juice replete. 
 Mellowed with smoke since Tullus rul'd the state. 
 
 Come then, Maecenas, and for friendship's sake. 
 A friend preserved, a hundred bumpers take. 
 Come drink the watchful tapers up to day. 
 While noise and quarrels shall be far away. 
 No more let Rome your anxious thoughts engage. 
 The Dacian falls beneath the victor's rage, 
 The Medes in civil wars their arms employ, 
 Inglorious wars ! each other to destroy ; 
 Our ancient foes, the haughty sons of Spain, 
 At length, indignant, feel the Roman chain ; 
 With bows unbent the hardy Scythians yield, 
 Resolv'd to quit the long-disputed field. 
 No more the public claims thy pious fears : 
 Be not too anxious then with private cares, 
 But seize the gifts the present moment brings, 
 Those fleeting gifts, and leave severer thing.?.
 
 13G THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE EK. 
 
 A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HORACE AND 
 LYDIA. 
 
 Horace. 
 WHILE I was pleasing to your armi, 
 Nor any youth, of happier charms, 
 Thy snowy bosom blissful pressM, 
 Not Persia's king like me was blest. 
 
 Ltjdia. 
 While for no other fair you burn'd, 
 Nor Lydia was for Chloe scorn'd, 
 What maid was then so blest as thine ? 
 Not Ilia's fame could equal mine. 
 
 Horace. 
 Now Chloe reigns ; her voice and lyre 
 Melt down the soul to soft desire ; 
 Nor will I fear even death, to save 
 Her dearer beauties from the grave. 
 
 Lydia. 
 My heart young Calais inspires, 
 Whose bosom glows with mutual fires, 
 For whom I twice would die with joy, 
 If death would spare the charming^boy. 
 
 Horace. 
 Vet what if Love, whose bands we broke, 
 A gain should tame us to the yoke ; 
 Should I shake off bright Chloe's chain,. 
 And take my Lydia home again ?
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 127 
 
 Lydia. 
 Though lie exceed in beauty far 
 The rising: lustre of a star ; 
 Though light as cork thy fancy strays, 
 Thy passions wild as angry seas, 
 When vex'd with storms ; yet gladly I 
 With thee would live, with thee would die.
 
 128 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE X. 
 TO LYCE. 
 
 THOUGH you drank the deep stream of Tanai'^ 
 
 icy, 
 The wife of some barbarous blockhead, O Lyce, 
 Yet your heart might relent to expose me recliuM 
 At your cruel-shut door to the rage of the wind. 
 Hark, your gate ! how it creaks ! how the grove. 
 
 planted round 
 Your beautiful villa, re-bellows the sound I 
 How Jupiter numbs all the regions below, 
 And glazes with crystal the fleeces of snow ! 
 Away with these humours of pride and disdaii). 
 To Venus ungrateful, to Cupid a pain, 
 Lest while by the pulley you raise to the top. 
 Your rope should run back, and your bucket should 
 
 drop. 
 No sprightly Tyrrhenian begot thee a prude. 
 Another Penelope, harsh to be woo'd. 
 O, though neither presents, nor vow-sighing strain. 
 Nor violet painting the cheek of thy swain. 
 Nor thy husband, who gives up his heart for a ditty 
 To a song-singing wench, can provoke thee to pity ; 
 Though like the hard oak you're to softness inclined . 
 And milder than all of the serpentine kind, 
 Yet think not this ^de can forever sustain 
 Tliv threshold hard-hearted, and skv-fallin"- rap;
 
 ODES; BOOK III. 139 
 
 I 
 
 ODE XI. 
 TO MERCURY. 
 
 O THOU, by whose harmonious aid 
 Amphion's voice the listening stones could lead 
 
 And sweetest shell of power to raise, 
 On seven melodious strings, thy various lays ; 
 - Not vocal, when you first were found. 
 But of a simple and ungrateful sound ; 
 
 Now tun'd so sweetly to the ear, 
 That gods and men with sacred rapture hear ; 
 
 Oh ! thou inspire the melting strain 
 To charm my Lyde's obstinate disdain. 
 
 Who like a filly o'er the field 
 With playful spirit bounds, and fears to yield 
 
 To hand of gentlest touch, or prove. 
 Wild as she is, the joys of wedded love. 
 
 'Tis yours, with all their beasts of prey, 
 To bid the forests move, and powerful stay 
 
 The rapid stream. The dog of hell, 
 Immense of bulk, to thee soft-soothing fell, 
 
 And suppliant bow'd, though round his head 
 His hundred snakes their guardian horrors spread 
 
 Baleful his breath though fiery glow'd. 
 And from his three-tongued jaws fell poison flow'd. 
 
 Ixion, of his pmins beguil'd, 
 And Tityos, with unwilling pleasure, smiPd ; 
 
 Dry stood their urn, while with soft strain 
 You sooth'd the labours of tiie virgin train. 
 
 Let Lyde hear, what pains, decreed, 
 Though late, in death attend the direful deed.
 
 130 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 There doom'd to fill, unceasing task ! 
 With idle toil, an ever-streaming cask ; 
 
 Impious, who in the hour of rest 
 Could plunge their daggers in a husband's breast. 
 
 Yet worthy of the nuptial flame, 
 And nobly meriting a deathless name, 
 
 Of many, one untainted maid, 
 Gloriously false, her perjur'd sire betray'd. 
 
 Thus to her youthful lord Arise ; 
 
 Awake, lest sleep eternal close thine eyes ; 
 
 Eternal sleep : and ah ! from whom 
 You little dreaded the relentless doom. 
 
 Oh! fly, my lord, this wrathful sire; 
 Far from my sisters fly, those sisters dire, 
 
 Who riot in their husbands' blood, 
 As lionesses rend their panting food ; 
 
 While I, to such fell deed a foe, 
 Nor bind thee here, nor strike the fatal blow. 
 
 Me let my father load with chains, 
 Or banish to Numidia's farthest plains : 
 
 My crime, that I, a loyal wife. 
 In mercy spar'd a wretched husband's life. 
 
 While Venus, and the shades of night 
 Protect thee, speed, by sea or land, thy flight ; 
 
 May every happy omen wait 
 To guide thee through this gloomy hour of Fate 
 
 Yet not forgetful of my doom, 
 Engrave thy grateful sorrows on my tomb.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 131 
 
 ODE XII. 
 TO NEOBULE. 
 
 U2VHAPPY the maidens forbidden to prove 
 The bumper's fuli joy, or the raptures of love ; 
 Unhappy the girls, who are destin'd to hear 
 The tedious rebukes of old uncles severe. 
 
 Cytherea's wing'd son now bids thee resign 
 The toils of Minerva, the spinster divine ; 
 For now, Neobule, with other desires 
 The brightness of Hebrus thy bosom inspires ; 
 When he rises with vigour fromTiber's rough wave? . 
 Where the oil of his labours athletic he laves, 
 Like Bellerophon skilful to rein the fierce steed, 
 •At cuffs never eonquer'd,nor out-stripp'd in speed. 
 And dextrous, with darts never flying in vain. 
 To wound the light stag bounding over the plain,. 
 Or active and valiant the boar to surprise, 
 Transfix'd with his spear, as in covert he lies.
 
 132 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE xm. 
 
 TO THE FOUNTAIN BANDUSIA 
 
 FOUNTAIN, whose waters far surpass 
 The shining face of polish'd glass, 
 To thee, the goblet, crown'd with flowers.. 
 Grateful the rich libation pours ; 
 A goat, whose horns begin to spread, 
 And bending arm his swelling head, 
 Whese bosom glows with young desircF. 
 Which war or kindling love inspires, 
 Now meditates his blow in vain, — 
 His blood shall thy fair fountain stain. 
 When the fierce dog-stav's fervid ray 
 Flames forth, and sets on fire the day, 
 To vagrant flocks, that range the field. 
 You a refreshihg coolness yield ; 
 Or to the labour-wearied team 
 Pour forth the freshness of thy stream. 
 Soon shalt thou flow u noble spring, 
 While \a immortal ver.se I sing 
 The oak that spreads thy rocks around, 
 From whence thy babbling waters bound,
 
 ODES, BOOK JII. 
 
 K ODE XIV. 
 
 ON THE RETURN OF AUGUSTUS FROM 
 SPAIN. 
 
 THY prince, O Rome, who foreign realms 
 Explor'd like Jove's immortal son, 
 
 Fearless to search the laurel wreath 
 By death and gioriou= daring won, 
 
 V^ictorious comes from fartliest Spain, 
 To Rome and all his guardian gods again. 
 
 Let her, who to her arms .receives 
 
 With joy her own, her laurel'd spouse, 
 <; Her private sacrifice perform'd, 
 
 Pay to just Heaven her public vows. 
 And let the fair Cctavia lead 
 The matron-train in suppliant veils array 'd ; 
 
 The matron-train, to whose glad arms 
 Their sons, with conquest crown'd, return ; 
 
 And yoU; fair youth, whose pious tears 
 Your slaughter'd sires and husbands mourn, 
 
 This day at least your griefs restrain. 
 And luckless from ill-omen'd words abstain. 
 
 This day, with truly festal joy, 
 
 Shall drive all gloomy cares away ; 
 For, while imperial Caesar holds 
 
 O'er the glad Earth his awful sway, 
 Nor fear of death from foreign arms, 
 Or civil rage, my dauntless soul alarms.
 
 134 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Boy, bring us essence, bring us crowns ; 
 
 Pierce me a cask of ancient date, 
 Big with the storied Marsian war, 
 
 And with its glorious deeds replete, 
 If yet one jovial cask remain 
 Since wandering Spartacus o'erewept the plain. 
 
 Invite Neeera to the feast. 
 
 Who sweetly charms the listening ear. 
 And bid the fair one haste to bind 
 
 In careless wreaths her essenc'd hair ; 
 But should her porter bid you stay, 
 Leave the rough, surly rogue, and come awa_\ . 
 
 When hoary age upon our heads 
 
 Pours down its chilling weight of snow?. 
 No more the breast with anger burns, 
 
 No more with amorous heat it glows : 
 Such treatment Horace would not bear. 
 When warm with youth, when Plancus fiird the 
 consul's chair.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. ur, 
 
 ODE XV. 
 TO CHLORIS. 
 
 THOU poor man's incumbrance, thou rake of i< 
 
 wife. 
 At length put an end to this imfamous life ; 
 Now near thy long home, to be rank'd with thf 
 
 shades, 
 Give over to frisk it with buxom young maids, 
 And, furrow'd with wrinkle?, profanely to shroud 
 Those bright constellations with age's dark cloud. 
 
 What Pholoe well, with a decency free, 
 Might.practice, sits awkward, O Chloris, on thee. 
 Like her, whom the timbrel of Bacchus arouses 
 Thy daughter may better lay siege to the house? 
 Of youthful gallants, while she wantonly gambols. 
 Of Nothus enamour'd, like a goat in its rambles ; 
 The spindle, the distaff, and wool-spinning thrifty. 
 Not musical instruments, fit thee at fifty. 
 Nor roses impurpled enriching the breeze, 
 Nor hogsheads of liquor drunk down to the lee?.
 
 136 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 OF watchful dogs an odious ward 
 Might well one hapless virgin guard. 
 When in a tower of brass immur'd, 
 And by strong gates of oak secur'd, 
 Although by mortal gallants lewd 
 With all their midnight arts pursued, 
 Had not great Jove and Venus fair 
 Laugh'd at her father's fruitless care : 
 For well they knew no fort could hold 
 Against a god transformed to gold. 
 
 Stronger than thunder's winged force 
 All-powerful gold can speed its course, 
 Through watchful guards its passage make. 
 And loves through solid walls to break : 
 From gold the overwhelming woes, 
 That crush'd the Grecian augur, rose; 
 Philip with gold througli cities broke, 
 And rival monarch» felt his yoke ; 
 Captains of ships to gold are slaves, 
 Though fierce as their own winds and wave- 
 Yet anxious care, and thirst of more, 
 Attend the still increasing store. 
 
 While you in humble rank appear, 
 Gracing the knighthood that you wear, 
 By your example taught, I dread 
 To raise the far conspicuous head. 
 The more we to ourselves deny, 
 The more the gods our wants supply. 
 Far from the quarters of the great. 
 Happy, tliough naked^ I retreat.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 13? 
 
 And to th' unwishing few with joy 
 A blest and bold deserter fly, 
 Possest of what the great despiaC; 
 In real, richer poiup I rise, 
 Than if, from fair Apulia's plain, 
 Istor'd in heaps the various grain, 
 While of the wealthy mass secure, 
 Amidst the rich abundance poor. 
 
 The streamlet, flowing through my ground , 
 The wood, which a few acres bound ; 
 The little farm of kindly Boil, 
 Nor faithless to its master's toil. 
 Shall tell the consul, whose domain 
 Extends o'er Africa'?^ fert-le plain, 
 Though of his envied lot possest, 
 He ne'er shuii be liKe Horace blest. 
 
 Though nor the fam'd Calabrian bee 
 Collect its golden sweets for me : 
 For me no Forraian vintage grows, 
 With mellow'd warrith where Bacchus flows 
 Nor on the verdant G ;llic mead 
 My flocks of richer fi.^^ces feed : 
 Yet am I not with wan: opnrest, 
 Which vainly seeks the ;^ort of rest, 
 Nor would thy bounteous hand deny 
 M}' larger wishes to supply ■ 
 But while those wishes I resrrain. 
 Farther I stretch my small domain 
 Than could I distant kingdomsjoin. 
 And make united eih^irris mine : 
 For sure the sate of man is such, 
 They greatly want, who covet much : 
 THfen happy he, whom heaven has fed 
 with frugal but sufficient bread. 
 
 VoT.. I. 12
 
 138 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 ODE xvn. 
 
 TO iELIUS LAMIA- 
 
 /ELIUS, whose ancient lineage springs 
 From Laraus/ founder of the name 
 
 (From whom a sacred line of kings 
 Shines through the long records of fame. 
 
 From whom th' illustrious race arose, . 
 
 Who first possess'd the Formian towevF, 
 And reign'd where Liris smoothly flows 
 
 To fair Marica's marshy shores,) 
 
 if the old shower-foretelling crow 
 Croak not her boding note in vain, 
 
 To-morrow's eastern storm shall strow 
 The woods with leaves, with weeds the maJ»?. 
 
 Then pile the fuel while you may, 
 And cheer your spirit high with wine ; 
 
 Give to your slaves one idle day, 
 And feast upon the fatted swine. 
 
 'i
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 139 
 
 ODE XVIII. 
 TO FAUNUS. 
 
 FAUNUS, who with eager flame 
 Chase the Nymphs, thy flying game. 
 If a tender kid disdain, 
 Each returning year, thy fane, 
 If with wine we raise the soul 
 I Social Venus loves the bowl,) 
 If thy consecrated shrine 
 "^moke with odours, — breath divine ! 
 > lently traverse o'er my bounds, 
 « iently through my sunny ground?^ 
 riracious to my fleecy breed, 
 Sporting o'er the flowery mead. 
 See my flocks in sportive vein 
 Frisk it o'er the verdant plain, 
 When through winter's gloom thy da_v 
 Festal shines, the peasants play 
 On the grassy -matted soil, 
 Round their oxen, free from toil. 
 See the wolf forgets his prey, 
 With my daring lambs to play ; 
 ••^ee the forest's bending head 
 At thy feet its honours shed, 
 While with joyful foot the swain 
 Jkats the glebe he plough'd with pain.
 
 140 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XIX. 
 
 TO TELEPHUS. 
 
 WHEN Inachus reign'd to thee is notorious, 
 When slain for his country was Codrus the glorious; 
 Wlien govern'd the monarchs from Peleus de- 
 scended ; 
 When Troy was besieged, and so bravely defended , 
 But where the best Chian, or what it may cost ye, 
 Or how we may warm the long winter and frosty, 
 Or temper our water with embers so glowing, 
 Ah! Telephus, here thou art strangely unknowing. 
 Here's a bumper to Midnight ; to Luna's first 
 shining ; 
 A third to our friend in his post of divining. 
 Come fill up the bowl, then fill up your bumpers. 
 Let three, or thrice three, be the jovial of number.^. 
 The poet, enraptur'd, sure never refuses 
 His brimmers thrice three to his odd-number'd 
 
 Muses : 
 But the Graces, in naked simplicity cautious, 
 Are afraid, more than three might to quarrels de- 
 bauch us. 
 Sjay frolic, and mirth, to madness shall fire us ; 
 Why breathes not the flute, then, with joy to in- 
 spire us ? 
 Why hang on the wall, in silence dolorous, 
 The soft-swelling pipe and the hautboy sonorous ? 
 I hate all the slaves, who are sparing of labour : 
 Give us roses abundant, and let our old neighbour.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 141 
 
 With his damsel, ill-suited to such an old fellow^ 
 Even burst with his envy to hear us so mellow. 
 Poor Horace in flames, how slowly consuming ! 
 For Glycera burns, while Chloethe blooming 
 Her Telephus courts, whose tressea are beaming. 
 As are the brigfht rays from Vesperus streamin|r 
 
 I» 
 
 I 
 
 ODE XX. 
 
 TO PYRRHUS. 
 
 YRRHUS, you tempt a danger high, 
 hen you would steal from angry li- 
 ess her cubs, and soon shall fly 
 Insriorious. 
 aat wars of horrid form arise, 
 rough crowds of lovers when she flies 
 seek her boy, and snatch the prize. 
 Victorious ! 
 
 I shoot ; she whets her tusks to bite ; 
 , hile he, who sits to judge the fight, 
 Treads on the palm with foot so white. 
 
 Disdainful ; 
 And sweetly floating in the air, 
 V/anton he spreads his fragrant hair. 
 i'iGanymed©, or Nireus fair. 
 
 And vain fu I.
 
 142 THE, WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXI. 
 TO HIS CASK. 
 
 GENTLE cask of mellow wine, 
 And of equal age with mine ; 
 Whether you to broils or mirth; 
 Or to madding' love give birth ; 
 Or the toper's tempels «teep 
 Sweetly in ambrosial sleep ; 
 For whatever various use 
 You preserve the chosen juice,. 
 Worthy of some festal hour, 
 Now the hoary vintage pour : 
 Come — Corvinus, guest divine, 
 Bids me draw the smoothest wine. 
 
 Though with science deep imbued. 
 He, not like a Cynic rude, 
 Thee despises , I'or of old 
 Cato's virtue, we are told, 
 Often with a bumper glow'd. 
 And with social raptures flow'd. 
 
 You by gentle tortures oft 
 Melt hard tempers into soft ; 
 You strip off the grave disguise 
 From the counsels of the wise, 
 And with Bacchus, blithe and gny. 
 Bring them to the face of day. 
 Hope by thee, fair fugitive ! 
 IBids the wretched strive to live ; 
 To the beggar you dispense
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 143 
 
 \ Heart and brow of confidence : 
 
 Warm'd by thee, he scorns to fear 
 
 Tyrant's frown or soldier's spear. 
 Bacchus boon, and Venus fair 
 
 (If she come with cheerful air.) 
 
 And the Graces, charming band ! 
 
 Ever dancing hand in hand ; 
 
 And the living taper's flame, 
 
 Shall prolong thy purple stream, 
 **. Till returning Phoebus bright 
 -^ Put? the lazv stars to flidit.
 
 H4 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXII. 
 TO DIANA. 
 
 OF groves and mountains guardian maid,. 
 
 Invok'd by three mysterious names ; 
 Goddess three-form'd, whose willing aid 
 With gracious pow'r appears displayed, 
 
 From death to save our pregnant dames 
 
 To thee I consecrate the pine, 
 
 That nodding waves my villa round, 
 And here, beneath thy hallow'd shrine, 
 Vearly shall bleed a festal swine, 
 'J'liat meditates the side-long wound.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. i45 
 
 ODE XXIII. 
 
 TO PHIDYLE. 
 
 IF oa the new-born moon, with hands supine^ 
 
 My Phidyle, laborious rustic, prays ; 
 ; she with incense, and a ravening swine, 
 And yearly fruits, her household gods appease, 
 
 K, Nor pestilential storm shall smite her vines, 
 B^ Nor barren mildew shall her harvests fear ; 
 HlNof shall her flocks, when the sad year declines, 
 Br Beneath its fruitage, feel th' autumnal air. 
 
 Let the devoted herds, that lowing feed 
 In snow-tcpt Algidon's high-branching wood 
 
 vJr the fair liine of rich Albania, bleed, 
 
 And stain the pontifl's hallow'd axe with biooJ.' 
 
 le little gods, around thy sacred fire, 
 Xo vast profusion of the victim's gore^ 
 i-!Lit pliant myrtle wreaths alone require, 
 ^ And fragrant herbs, the pinus, rural store. 
 
 I \ grateful cake, when on the hallow-'d shrine 
 ^ Offer'dby hands that know no gnilty staiu^ 
 t: Sliall reconcile th'offended powers divine, 
 
 Wlien bleeds the pompous hecatomb iu v^ia. 
 
 VV>jr,.
 
 H6 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XXIV. 
 
 AGAINST MISERS. 
 
 THOUGH of th-unri^ed gold possest 
 Of gorgeous Ind, and Aruby the blest ; 
 
 Though with hewn, massy rocks you raise 
 jtTour haughty structures midst th'iudignant seai 
 
 Yet, soon as Fate shall round your head, 
 With adamantine strength, its terrors spread, 
 
 Nor the dictator's power shall save 
 Your soul from fear, your body from the grave*, 
 
 Happy the Scythians, houseless train ! 
 Who roll their vagrant dwellings o'er the plaii: ■ 
 
 Happy the Getes fierce and brave, 
 Whom no fix'd laws of property enslave ; 
 
 While open stands the golden grain, 
 rhe free-born fruitage of th'unbounded plair. 
 
 Succeeding yearly to the toil, 
 i^hey plough with equal tasks the public soil 
 
 Not there the guiltless step-dame know s 
 The baleful draught for orphaws to compo5<r; 
 
 No wife higb-portion'd rules her spouse, 
 Or trusts heressenced lover's faithless vows 
 
 The lovers there for dowry claim 
 I'he father's virtue and the mother's famc^. 
 
 That dares not break the nuptial tie, 
 I'olluted crime ! whose portion is to die. 
 
 O that some patriot, wise and good, 
 Would stop this impious thirst of civil bloody. 
 
 And joy on statues to behold 
 His name, the Father of the State, enroll'd 
 Oh ! let him quell our spreading shame, 
 Mid live to latest times an honour'dnamc
 
 I 
 
 ODES, BOOK III. W 
 
 Though living Virtue we despise, 
 "^Ve follow her, when dead, with envious eyev. 
 
 But wherefore do we thus complain, 
 If Justice wear her awful sword in vain ? 
 
 And what are laws, unless obey'd 
 By the same moral virtues they were made ? 
 
 If neither burning heats extreme, 
 Where eastern Phoebus darts his fiercest beam. 
 
 Nor where the northern tempest blows, 
 And freezes down to earth th'eternal snows, 
 
 Nor the wild terrors of the main 
 Can daunt the merchant, and his voyage restrln ; 
 
 If want, ah dire disgrace ! we fear, 
 From thence with vigour act, with patience beai"; 
 
 While Virtue's paths untrodden lie. 
 Those paths that lead us upwards to the sky ? 
 
 Oh ! let us consecrate to Jove 
 (Rome shall with shouts the pious deed approve) 
 
 Our gems, our gold, pernicious store ! 
 Or plunge into the deep the baleful ore. 
 
 If you indeed your crimes detest. 
 Tear forth, uprooted from the youthful breasK 
 
 The seeds of each deprav'd desire, 
 ' hile manly toils a firmer soul inspire. 
 
 Nor knows cur youth, of noblest race, 
 To mount the manag'd steed or urge the chase , 
 
 More skill'd in the mean arts of vice, 
 The whirling troque, or law-forbidden dice : 
 
 And yet his worthless heir to raise 
 To hasty wealth, the perjur'd sire betrays 
 
 His partners, co-heirs, and his fiiends ; 
 But, while in heaps his wicked wealth ascends. 
 
 He is not of his wish possest. 
 There's somethine wanting- still to make him blest
 
 J.18 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 ODE XXV. 
 
 TO BACCHUS. 
 
 WHITHER, in sacred ecstasy, 
 Bacchus, when full of thy divinity, 
 
 Dost thou transport me ? To what glades ? 
 What gloomy caverns, unfrequented shades ? 
 
 In what i-ecesses shall I raise 
 My voice to sacred Cassar's deathless praise,^ 
 
 Amid the stars to bid him shine, 
 Rank'd in the councils of the powers divine ? 
 
 Some bolder song shall wake the lyre, 
 And sounds unknown its trembling strings inspire. 
 
 Thus o'er the steepy mountain's height. 
 Starting from sleep, thy priestess takes her flight.; 
 
 Amaz'd beholds the Thracian snows, 
 With languid streams where icy Heber flows, 
 
 Or Rhodope's high-towering head. 
 Where frantic fchoirs barbarian measures tread. 
 
 O'er pathless rocks, through lonely grove.^. 
 With what delight my raptur'd spirit roves ! 
 
 O thou, who rul'stthe Naiad's breast ; 
 By whom the Bacchanalian maids, possesst 
 
 With [sacred rage inspir'd by thee, 
 Tear from the bursting glebe th' uprooted tree, 
 
 Nothing or low, or mean, I sing, 
 No mortal sound shall shake the swelling string. 
 
 The venturous theme ray soul alarms, 
 Butwavm'd by thee the thought of danger charm^' 
 
 When vine-crown'd Bacchus leads the way, 
 What can his daring votaries dismay ?
 
 ODES, BOOK m, 349 
 
 ODE XXVI. 
 TO VENUS 
 
 I LATELY was fit to be call'd upon dut} , 
 And gallantly fought in the service of beauty : 
 But now crown'd with conquest I hang up my arm; .. 
 My harp, that campaign'd it in midnight alarms : 
 Here fix on this wall, here my ensigns of wars, 
 By the statue of Venus, my torches and bars, 
 And arrows, which threaten'd. by Cupid their Ue.ge 
 War, war on all doors that dare hold out a siege. 
 
 O goddess of Cyprus, and Memphis that know 
 Nor the coldness or weight of love-chilling snon ■ 
 With a high-lifted stroke, yet gently severe, 
 Avenge me on Chloe, the proud and the fair. 
 
 ODE XXVII. 
 
 TO GALATEA. 
 
 FIERCE from her cubs the ravening fox 
 Or wolf from steep Lanuvian rocks. 
 Or pregnant bitch, or chatteringjay, 
 II!-omen'd; guide the wicked on their way : 
 
 Serpents, like arrows, sidelong thwart- 
 The road, and make their horses start. 
 For those I love, with ansious fear 
 ew the doubtful skies, a prudent seer.
 
 350 THE WORKS OF IIOEACE 
 
 And bid the chanting raven rise 
 When Phoebus gilds his orient skies, 
 Ere speeds the shower-boding crow 
 
 To lakes, whose languid waters cease to flow. 
 Happy may Galatea prove, 
 Nor yet unmindful of our love. 
 For now no luckless pye prevails, 
 
 Nop vagrant crow forbids the swelling sails. 
 
 Yet see what storms tumultuous rise, 
 While prone Orion sweeps the skies. 
 I know the Adriatic main, 
 
 And western winds, perfidiously sersnc. 
 But may the rising tempest shake 
 Our foes, and dreadful o'er them break : 
 For them the blackening ocean roar, 
 
 And angry surges lash the trembling shor^: 
 When on her bull Europa rode 
 Nor knew she press'd th' imperial god, 
 Bold as she was, th' affrighted maid 
 
 The rolling monsters of the deepsurvey-J. 
 Late for the rural nymphs she chose 
 Each flower, a garland to compose, 
 But now beneath the gloom of night. 
 
 Views nought but seas, and stars of feeble light! 
 Soon as she touch'd the Cretan shore, 
 My sire, she cries, — ah ! mine no more. 
 For every pious, tender name 
 
 la madly lost in this destructive flame. 
 Where am I, wretched and undone ? 
 And shall a single death atone 
 A virgin's crime ? Or do my fears 
 
 Deplore the guilty deed with waking tears l
 
 ODES, BOOK III. I'A 
 
 Or am 1 yet. ah ! pure from shame, 
 3Iock"d by a vain delusive dream ? 
 Could I my springing flowret? leave, 
 To tempt through length of seas the faithless wave'* 
 
 While thus withjust revenge possest. 
 How could I tear that monstrous beast ! 
 How could I break, by rage inspir'd, 
 Those horns, alas ! tco fondly once admir'd I 
 
 Shameless, my father's gods I fly ; 
 Shameless, and yet I fear to die. 
 Hear me, som^e gracious heavenly power^ 
 T.rt lions fell this naked corse devour. 
 
 My cheeks ere hollow wrinkles seize^ 
 Ere yet their rosy bloom decays, 
 While youth yet rolls its vital flood, 
 Le: tigers fiercely riot in my blood. 
 
 But hark 1 I hear my father cry, 
 Make haste, unhappy maid, to die, 
 And if a pendant fate you choose, 
 x'our faithful girdle gives the kindly noose , 
 
 Or, if you like a iieadlong death. 
 Behold the pointed rock beneath ; 
 Or plunge into the rapid wave, 
 
 N'or live on haughty tasks, a spinster slave- 
 Some rude barbarian's concubine, 
 Born as thou art of royal line. 
 Here the perfidious-srailling dame 
 
 Ard kae Cupid to the mourner came ;
 
 152 THE WORKS OF HORACi; 
 
 Awhile she rallied with the fair, 
 Then vrith a g;rave and serious air, 
 Indulge, she cries, thy rage no more, 
 This odious bull shall yield him to thy powev 
 
 Yet sigh no more, but think of love, 
 For know, thou art the wife of Jove ; 
 Then learn to bear thy future fame, 
 When earth's wide continent shall boat tliv nanx 
 
 ODE XXVIII, 
 TO LYDE. 
 
 SAY; what shall I do on the festival day . 
 Of Nepture 1 Come, Lyde, without more dp^aV' 
 And broach the good creature, inraulted that lies 
 Cast off all reserve, and be merry and wise. 
 The evening approaches, you see, from you hill ; 
 And yet, as if Phcebus, though winged, stood stil 
 You dalh^ to bring us a cup of the best, 
 Condemn'd, like its consul, ignobly to rest. 
 
 With voices alternate, the sea-potent king. 
 And the jNereids, with ringlets of azure, we'll sin<^. 
 From the sweet-sounding shell thy hand shall araise 
 Latona's, and swift-darting Cynthia's praise. 
 The gay-smiling goddess of love and delight. 
 Who rules over Cnidos,and Cyclades bright. 
 And guiding her sAvans with a soft silken rein 
 Revisits her Paphos, shall crown the glad strain 
 Then to the good Night, while bumpers elate u- 
 We'll sing a farewell, and a decent quietus.
 
 ODES, BOOK III. 1: 
 
 ODE XXIX. 
 
 TO MiECENAS. 
 DESCENDED from an ancient line^ 
 
 That once the Tuscan sceptre sway'd. 
 Haste thee to meet the generous wine. 
 Whose piercing is for thee delay'd ; 
 For thee the fragrant essence flows, 
 I'or thee, Maecenas, breathes the blooming rose: 
 From the delights, oh ! break away. 
 
 Which Tibur's marshy prospect yields, 
 \or with unceasing joy survey 
 Fair -<Esula'3 declining fields 
 No more the verdant hills admire 
 ' >!' Telegon, who kilFd his aged sire. 
 
 Instant forsake the joyless feast. 
 
 Where appetite in surfeit dies. 
 And from the towered structure haste. 
 
 That proudly threatens to the skies ; 
 From Rome and its tumultuous joys, 
 Xi$ crowds, and smoke, and opulence, and naise; 
 
 Where health preserving plainness dwells, 
 Nor sleeps upon the Tyrian dye. 
 
 To frugal treats, and humble cells, 
 With grateful change the wealthy fly. 
 
 .Such scenes have charm'dthe pangs of care 
 vnd sraooth'd the clouded forehead of despair. 
 
 Andromeda's conspicuous sire 
 Now dart? his hidden beams from far : 
 
 The Lion shows his maddening fire, 
 And barks fierce Procyon's raging sta) . 
 
 While Phoebus, with revolving ray, 
 T^'-ings back the burnings of the thirsty dny
 
 154 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Fainting beneath the sweltering heat, 
 
 To cooling streams and breezy shades 
 The shepherd and his flocks retreat, 
 
 White rustic Sylvans seek the glades, 
 Silent the brook its borders laves, 
 Nor curls one vagrant breath of wind the waves- 
 
 But you for Rome's imperial state 
 
 Attend with ever-watchful care, 
 
 Or, for the world's uncertain fate 
 
 Alarm'd, with ceaseless terrors fear ; 
 Anxious what eastern wars impend, 
 Ot what the Scythians in their pride iutend, 
 
 But Jove, in goodness ever wise. 
 
 Hath hid, in clouds of depthless night, 
 
 All that in future prospect lies, 
 Beyond the ken of mortal sight, 
 
 And laughs to see vain man opprest 
 With idle fears, and more than man distrest. 
 
 Then wisely form the present hour ; 
 
 Enjoy the bliss that it bestows ; 
 The rest is all beyond our power, 
 
 And like the changeful Tiber flows. 
 Who now beneath his banks subsides. 
 And peaceful to his native ocean glides : 
 But when descends a sudden shower 
 
 And wild provokes his silent flood. 
 The mountains hear the torrent roar, 
 
 And echoes shake the neighbouring wqotIj 
 Then swollen with rage he sweeps away 
 Uprooted trees,'herds, dwellings to the sea. 
 
 Happy the man, and he alone, 
 \yhs) m£i.ster of himself can say^
 
 ODES, BOOK III. ]op 
 
 To-day at least hath been my own, 
 
 For I have clearly liv'd to-day ; 
 Then let to-morrow's clouds arise, 
 •"'r purer suns o'erspread the cheerful skrei> 
 iN'ot Jove himself can now make void 
 
 The joy, that wing'd the flying hour ; 
 The certain blessing once enjoyd, 
 
 Is safe beyond the godhead's power ; 
 Nought can recall the acted scene, 
 What hath been, spite of Jove himself, halh beeii . 
 
 But Fortune, ever-changing dame, 
 
 Indulges her malicious joy. 
 And constant plays her haughty game, 
 
 Proud of her office to destroy ; 
 To-day to me her bounty flows, 
 And now to others she the bliss bestow? 
 I can applaud her while she stays ; 
 
 But if she shake her rapid wings, 
 I can resign with careless ease 
 
 The richest gifts her favour brings, 
 Then folded lie in virtue's arms, 
 And honest poverty's undower'd charms. 
 
 Though the mast howl beneath the winJ . 
 
 I make no mercenary prayers, 
 Nor with the gods a bargain bind 
 
 With future vows, and streaming tears. 
 To save my wealth from adding more 
 Ta boundless ocean s avaricious store : 
 Then in my little barge Fll ride, 
 
 Secure amid the foamy wave. 
 Calm will I stem the threatning tide^ 
 
 And fearless all its tumults brave i
 
 156 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 Even then perhaps some kinder gale. 
 While the twin stars appear, shall fill ray jovt' 
 sail. 
 
 ODE XXX, 
 
 TO MELPOMENE. 
 
 MORE durable than brass, the franiC 
 Which here I consecrate to fame ; 
 Higher than pyramids that rise, 
 With royal pride, to brave the skies ; 
 Nor years, though numberless the train 
 Nor flight of seasons, wasting rain, 
 Nor winds, that loud in tempests break,. 
 Shall e'er its firm foundation shake. 
 Nor shall the funeral pyre consume 
 My fame ; that nobler part shall bloom ^ 
 With youth unfading shall improve, 
 While to th' immortal fane of Jove 
 The "Vestal maids, in silent state 
 Ascending, on the pontiflf wait. 
 
 With rapid course and deafening wave? 
 Where Aufidus impetuous raves, 
 /\.nd where a poor, enervate stream 
 From banish'd Daunus takes its name, 
 O'er warlike realms who fix'd his throne. 
 Shall Horace, deathless bard^ be known, 
 Who first attempted to inspire 
 With Grecian sounds the Roman lyre, 
 "With conscious pride, O Muse divine 
 Assume the honours justly thine ; 
 With laurel wreathsmy head surround'; 
 Such as the god of verse have crown "d.
 
 ODES. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 ODE I. 
 
 TO \t:nus. 
 
 AGAIN new tumults fire my breast ? 
 Ah spare ine. Venus, let thy suppliant rest. 
 
 I am no more, alas ! the swain 
 I was in Cynara's indulgent reign. 
 
 Fierce mother of the Loves, no more 
 Attempt to bend me to thy charming power, 
 
 Harden'd with age ; but swift repair 
 Where youth invokes thee with the soothing prayei", 
 
 Would you inflame, with young desire, 
 A bosom worthy of thy purest fire, 
 
 To Paulus guide, a welcome guest, 
 Thy purple swans, and revel in his breast. 
 
 Of noble birth, and graceful made. 
 Nor silent when affliction claims his aid, 
 
 He, with a hundred conquering arts, 
 Shall wave thy banners wide o'er female hearts. 
 
 When more successful he shall prove, 
 And laugh at rivals, who with gifts make love-. 
 
 Thou in a citron dome shalt stand, 
 Forra'd by the sculotoi 's aniirmting han<>.
 
 laS THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 There'shall th' abundant incense flame, 
 And thou transported quaff the rising steam 
 
 There shall the power of music join, 
 And raise the eong with harmony divine ; '' 
 
 There shall the youths and virgins pay 
 To thee their grateful offerings twice a-day. 
 
 Like Salian priests the dance shall lead, ^ 
 
 And many a mazy measure round thee tread. 
 
 For me, alas ! those joys are o'er, 
 For me the vernal garland blooms no mote ; 
 
 No more the feats of wine I prove. 
 Nor the delusive hopes of mutal love. 
 
 Yet why, ah! fair-one, still too dear, 
 Steals down my cheek the involuntary tear ? 
 
 Or why thus falter o'er my tongue 
 The words, which once harmonious pour'd along ? 
 
 Swift through the fields, and flowing streams, 
 1 folliow thee in visionary dreams , 
 
 Now, now I seize, I clasp thy charms, 
 And now you bnrst, ah cruel ! from my arms. 
 
 ODE II. 
 TO ANTONIUS lULUS. 
 
 1I£. who to Pindar's height attempts to rise.,, 
 iiikc Icarus, witli waxen pinions tries ^ , 
 
 ilis pathless way, and from the venturous theme 
 Trailing shall leave to azure seas his name. 
 
 As when a river^ swollen by sudden sliowers, 
 O'er its known banks from some steep mountain 
 
 pours, 
 So in profound, unmeasurable song 
 The deep-mouth'd Pindar, foaming, pours along. •
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. 159- 
 
 Well he deserves Apollo's laurel'd crewn, 
 Whether new words he rolls enraptur'd down 
 Impetuous through the Dithyrambic strains ; 
 Free from all laws, but what himself ordains ; 
 
 Whether in lofty tone sublime he sings 
 The immortal gods, or god-descended kings, 
 •Vith death deserv'd who smote the Centaurs dire/ 
 Vnd quench'd the fierce Chimsera's brea-h of fire ; 
 
 Or whom th' Olympic palm, celestial prize ! 
 Victorious crowns, and raises to the skies, 
 Wrestler or steed — whh honours, that outlive 
 The mortal fame which thousand statues give ; 
 
 Or mourns soiue hapless youth in plaintive lav. 
 From his fond, weeping bride, ah ! torn away ; 
 His manners pure, his courage, and his name, 
 >natch'd from the grave, he vindicates to fame. 
 
 Thus, when the Theban swan attempts the 
 skies, 
 V nobler gale of rapture bids him rise ; 
 iiut like a bee, which through the bre. zy groves 
 With feeble wing and idle murmurs roves. 
 
 Sits on the bloom, and with unceasing toil 
 ^om thyme sweet-breathing culls his flowery 
 spoil ; 
 
 ) I, weak bard ! round Tibur's lucid spring, 
 ' )i humbler strain laborious verses sing. 
 
 "Tis thine with deeper hand to strike the lyre, 
 
 hen Caesar shall his raptur'd bard inspire, 
 
 ; d crown'd with laurel, well-earn'd meed of wa;. 
 
 .ig the fierce Gaul at his triumphant car ; 
 
 Tiian wliom the gods ne'er gave, or bounteouti 
 Fate, 
 ■ human kind a gift ifiOre good or great,
 
 m THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Nor from the treasures shall again unfold, 
 Though time roll backward to his ancient golik 
 
 Be thine the festal days, the city's joys, 
 The Forum silenc'd from litigious noise, 
 The public games for Caesar safe restor'd, 
 A blessing oft with pious vows implor'd. 
 
 Then, if my voice can reach the glorious 
 theme ; 
 Then will I sing, amid the loud acclaun — 
 ' Hail, brightest sun ; in Rome's fair annals sliiae 
 Ceesar returns — eternal praise be thine.'' 
 
 As the procession awful moves along, 
 Let shouts of truimph fill our joyful song ; 
 Repeated shouts of triumph Rome shall raise. 
 And to the bounteous gods our altars blaze. 
 
 Of thy fair herds twice ten shall grateful bleed, 
 While I with pious care, one steerling feed : 
 Wean'd from the dam, o'er pastures large iif 
 
 roves, 
 And for my vows his rising youth he proves : 
 
 His horns like Luna's bending fires appear, 
 When the third night she rises to her sphere : 
 Vnd yellow all the rest, one spot there glows 
 Fall in his front, and bright as winter snows. 
 
 ODE HL 
 TO MELPOMENE. 
 
 HE, on whose natal hour the queen 
 Of verse hath smil'd, shall never grace 
 
 The Isthmian gauntlet, or be seen 
 First in the fam'd Olympic race : 
 
 lis shall not after toils of war.
 
 i 
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. to-: 
 
 And taming haughty monarchs' pride, 
 With laurePd brows conspicuous far, 
 
 To Jove's Tarpeian temple ride : 
 But him, the streams which warbHng flow 
 
 Rich Tiber's fertile vales along, 
 And shady groves, his haunts, shall kno^v 
 
 The master of ih' iEolian song. 
 The sons oi' Rome, majestic Rome ! 
 
 Have placed me in the poet's quire, 
 \nd Envy, now or dead or dumb, 
 
 Forbears to blame what they admire. 
 Goddess of the sweet-sounding lute. 
 
 Which thy harmonious touch obeys. 
 Who canst the finny race, though mute. 
 
 To cygnet's dying accents raise, 
 Thy gift it is, that nil, with ease, 
 
 Me prince of Roman lyrics own ; 
 ^'^hat, while I live, my numbers please, 
 
 Jf pleasing, is thy gift alone. 
 
 ODE IV, 
 
 THE PRAISES OF DRUSUS. 
 
 VS the majestic bird of towering kind, 
 Who bears the thunder through th" ethereai 
 space 
 (To whom the monarch of the gods assign'*.! 
 Dominion o'er the vagrant, feather'd race, 
 '1:3 faith approved, when to the distant skies 
 rora Ida's top he bore the Phrygian prize) 
 
 .Sprung from his nest, by sprightly youth ir- 
 spir'd, 
 Fledg'd, and exulting in his native mi^hcu 
 Vol. I. 14
 
 16-2 THE WORKS OP HORACE, 
 
 Novice to toils; but as the clouds retir'd, 
 And gentler gales provok'd a bolder flight, 
 On sailing wings through yielding air explor'.' 
 Unwonted paths, and panted while he soai 'd 
 
 Anon to ravage in the fleecy fold, 
 
 The glowing ardour of his youthful heart 
 Pour'd the beak'dfoe ; now more maturely bolu 
 With tallons fierce precipitant to dart 
 On dragons fell, reluctant in the fray ; 
 iSucb is his thirst for battle, and for prey . 
 
 Or as a lion through the forest stalks, 
 
 Wean'd by his tawny dam from milky food , 
 A goat descries hira from her flowery walks, 
 First doom'd to stain his youthful jaws witL 
 blood : 
 So Drusus look'd tremendous to his foes, 
 Beneath the frozen height cf Alpine snows. 
 The Rhoetian bands beheld him such in war : 
 
 Those daring bands, who with triumphant joy 
 Were wont to spread their baneful terrors fai 
 Tam'd by the conduct of the martial boy, 
 Felt what true courage could achieve, when led 
 r>y bright example, and by virtue bred ; 
 Felt how Augustus with paternal mind 
 
 Fir'd the young Noroes to heroic deeds; 
 The brave and good are copies of their kind . 
 In steers laborious, and in generous steeds 
 We trace their sires : nor can the bird of Jovp 
 Intrepid, fierce, beget th' unwarlike dove; 
 Yet saage instructions, to refine the soul 
 
 And raise the genius, wondrous aid impair. 
 Conveying, inward as they purely roll, 
 Strength to th? mind, and visrouf'to tlie heavi 
 
 al
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. 163 
 
 n "hen morals fail, the stains of vice ulogracc 
 The fairest honours, and the noblest race. 
 
 How much the grandeur of thy rising state 
 Owes to the Neroes, Rome imperial, say ; 
 Witness Metaurus, and the dismal fate 
 Of vnaquish'd Asdrubal, and that glad dav. 
 Which first auspicious, as the darkness fled. 
 ' «er Latium's face a tide of glory shed ; 
 
 Resistless in his rage, before that day 
 The Carthoiginian with vindictive ire 
 Through our fair cities urg"d his cruel way. 
 As through the pitchy pines destructive fire 
 Devours its coarse ; or as when Eurus raves, 
 And howling rides the mad Sicilian Agaves. 
 
 The Roman youth, improving by'tlicir toils, 
 
 With better fate now wield the vengeful sword. 
 And see tliose temples,which were once the spoils 
 Of Tyrian rapine, to their gods restored ; 
 When faithless Hannibal at length e:j:pres3'd 
 The boding sorrows of his anxious breast : 
 
 t,. '■' Like stags, of coward kind, the destin'dprey 
 
 Of ravening wolves, we unprovok'd defy 
 
 Those, whom to baffle is our fairesl play. 
 
 The richest triumph we can boast, to fly. 
 
 K'or mark that race, which to the Latian shore 
 
 rheirgods, their sons, their sires, intrepid bore. 
 
 '• That race, long tost upon the Tuscan 
 
 waves, 
 Are like an oak upon the woody top 
 Of shaded Algidus, embrown'd with leaves, 
 Which, as keen axes its green honours lop^ 
 Through wounds, through losses no decay can f^el, 
 Collecting strength and spirit from the steel.
 
 :H THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 '•'Not Hydi-a stronger, when dismember'd. ro?c 
 
 Against Alcmena's much-enduring son, 
 Grieving to find, from his repeated blows, 
 The foe redoubled, and his toil begun ; 
 IVor Colchis teem"d, nor Echiouian Thebes 
 A. feller monster from their bursting glebes. 
 
 '• In ocean plunge them, they emerge more bright 
 
 At arms oppose them in the dusty field, 
 With routed squadrons they renew the fight. 
 And force your yet unbroken troops to yield. 
 And battles wage, to be the future boast 
 Of their proud consorts o'er our vanquis'd host. 
 
 '^ Tq lofty Carthage I no more shall send 
 
 Vaunts of my deeds, and heralds of my fame . 
 My boundless hopes, alas Ijare at an end. 
 With all the flowing fortune of our name : 
 Hiose boundless hopes, that flowing fortune, all 
 Are dash'd, and buried in my brother's fall.'' 
 
 The Claudian race, those favourites of the sliie? 
 
 No toil shall damp, no fortitude withstanJj; 
 Superior they to difficulties rise. 
 
 Whom Jove protects with an indulgent hand 
 Vhom cautious cares, preventing"'wiles afar, 
 -j'uide through the perils of tumultuous war 
 
 ODE V. 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 PROPITIOUS to the sons of Earth 
 (Best guardian of the Roman state) 
 
 The heavenly powers beheld thy birth, 
 And form'd thee glorious, good and great
 
 Odes, book iv. ig: 
 
 Rome find her holy fathers cry, Thy sfay 
 Was prorais'd short, ah ! wherefore this (Jelay ■'. 
 
 Come then, auspicious prince, and bring 
 
 To thy long gloomy country, light, 
 For in thy cguntenance the spring 
 Shines forth to cheer thy people's sight : 
 Then hasten thy return : for, thou away,, 
 -Nor lustre has the sun, nor joy the day. 
 
 Asa fond mother views with fear 
 The terrors of the rolling main, 
 While envious winds, beyond his year^ 
 From his lov'd home her son detain ; 
 i'u the good gods with fervent prayer she cries; 
 And catches every omen as it flies ; 
 
 Then anxious listens to the roar 
 
 Of winds, that loudly sweep the sky ; 
 
 .Nor, fearful, from the winding shore 
 
 Can ever turn her longing eye : 
 
 c^iiiit with as faithful and as fond desires. 
 
 impatient Rome her absent lord requires-. 
 
 Safe by thy cares her oxen graze, 
 
 And yellow Ceres clothes her fields ; 
 The sailor ploughs the peaceful seas, 
 And Earth her richer abundance yields ; 
 While, nobly conscious of unsullied fame, 
 Fair honour dreads th' imputed sense of blame_. 
 
 i 
 
 By thee our wedded dames are pure 
 From foul adultery's embrace ; 
 
 The conscious father views secure 
 His own resemblance in his race .
 
 K^ THE WORKS OF PIORACE. 
 
 Thy chaste example quells the spotted deed- 
 And to the guilt thy punishments succeed. 
 
 Who shall the faithless Parthian dread, 
 
 The freezing armies of the north, 
 The enormous youth, to battle bred, 
 Whom horrid Germany brings forth ? 
 Who shall regard the war of cruel Spain. 
 If Cffisar live secure, if Caesar reign 1 
 
 Safe in his vineyard toils the hind, 
 
 AVeds to the widow'd elm his vino. 
 Till the sun sets his hill behind, 
 Then hastens joyful to his wine, 
 \nd in his gayer hours of mirth implores 
 Thy godhead to protect and bless his stores 
 
 To thee he chants the sacred song, 
 To thee the rich libation pours ; 
 Thee, plac'd his household gods among. 
 With solemn, daily prayer adores ; 
 ^0 Castor and great Hercules of old 
 Were with her gods by grateful Greece enrol 
 
 Gracious and good, beneath thy reign 
 
 May Rome her happy hours employ. 
 And grateful hail thy just domain 
 With pious hymns and festal joy : 
 Thus, with the rising sun we sober pray, 
 Thus in our wine beneath his setting ray. 
 
 [ The SIXTH ODE idll be found in '• The 5^ 
 Poem ;" see thefrst '' Chorus of Youtliso.nd V?" 
 s:ins,'' and the succeeding '' Hymn to Apollo.''} 
 
 -ir
 
 ODES; BOOK IV 107- 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 TO TARQUATUS. 
 
 THE snoTv dissolve s, the field its verdure spieaL' - 
 The trees high wave in air their leafy heads ; 
 Earth feels the change ; the rivers calm subside 
 And smooth along their banks decreasing glide . 
 The elder Grace, with her fair sister-train, 
 In naked beauty dances o'er the plain. 
 The circling hours, that swiftly wing their way. 
 And in their flight consume the smiling day ; 
 Those circling hours, and all the various year. 
 Convince us, nothing is immortal here. 
 
 In vernal gales cold winter melts away ; 
 Soon wastes the spring insummer's burning ray 
 Vet summer dies in autumn's friutful reign, 
 A.nd slow-pac'd winter soon returns again. 
 The moon renews her orb with growing light . 
 But when we sink into the depths of night, 
 Where all the good, the rich, the brave are laid, 
 "'•u- best remains are ashes and a shade. 
 
 Who knows that heaven, with ever-bounteo'w 
 power, 
 
 .ail add to-morrow to the present hour ? 
 Tiie wealth you give to pleasure and delight. 
 Far from thy ravening heir shall speed its fligaT 
 But soon as Minos, throu'd in awful state, 
 -ii;all o'er tr.ee speak the solemn words of Fatv 
 Nor virtue, birth, nor eloquence divine, 
 ■^lail bid the grave its destin'd prey resign •
 
 168 THE WORKS OF HORACE, ] 
 
 Nor chaste Diana from infernal night 
 , Could bring her modest favourite back to ligh 
 And hell-descending Theseus strove in vain 
 To bre'ak his amorous friend's Lethsean chain. 
 
 ODE VHT. 
 TO CENSORINUS. 
 
 WITH liberal heart to every friend 
 \ bowl or caldron would I send ; 
 Or tripods, which the Grecians gave,. 
 As rich rewards to heroes brave ; 
 iVor should the meanest gift be thine.. 
 If the rich works of art were mine. 
 By Sdopas or Parrhasius wrought, 
 With animating skill who taught 
 The shapeless stone with life to glow, 
 Or bad the breathing colours flow, 
 To imitate, in every line. 
 The form or human or divine. 
 
 But I nor boast the curious store^ 
 And you nor want, nor wish for more : 
 'Tis yours the joys of verse to know, 
 Such joys as Horace can bestow, 
 While I can vouch my present's wortli 
 And call it3 every virtue forth.
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. 189 
 
 Nor coluiuiis, which the public raise, 
 Engrav'd with monumental praise, 
 By which the breath of life returns 
 To heroes sleeping in their urns ; 
 Nor Hannibal, when swift he fled. 
 His threats retorted on his head ; 
 Nor impious Carthage wrapt in flame. 
 From whence great Scipio gain'd a name, 
 Such glories round him could diffuse 
 As the Calabrian poet's muse ; 
 And should the bard his aid deny, 
 Thy worth shall unrewarded die. 
 
 Had envious silence left unsung 
 The child from Mars and Ilia sprung, 
 How had we known the hero's fame, 
 From whom the Roman empire came ? 
 The poet's favour, voice, and lays, 
 Could yEacus from darkness raise, 
 Snatch'd from the Stygian gulfs of hell. 
 Among the blissful isles to dwell. 
 
 The Muse forbids the brave to die^ 
 The Muse enthrones him in the sky . 
 Alcides, thus, in heaven is plac'd, 
 And shares with Jove th' immortal f«ast ; 
 Thus the twin-stars have power to save 
 The shattered vessel from the wave. 
 And vine-crown'd Bacchus with success 
 His jovial Totaries can bless. 
 
 \"er. L 15
 
 irO THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE IX. 
 
 TO LOLLIUS. 
 
 WHILE with the Grecian bards I vie. 
 And raptur'd tune the social string; 
 Think not the song shall ever die, 
 Which with no vulgar art I sing, 
 J'hough born whei-e Aufid rolls his sounding strean 
 In lands far distant from poetic fame. 
 
 What though the Muse her Homer thrones 
 
 High above all th' immortal choir, 
 Nor Pindar's rapture she disowns, 
 Nor hides the plaintive Ceean lyre : 
 Vlcaeus strikes the tyrant's soul with dread. 
 Nor yet is grave Stesichorus unread. 
 
 Whatever old Anacreon sung, 
 
 However tender was the lay. 
 In spite of Time is ever young, 
 Nor Sappho's amorous flames decay ; 
 Her living songs preserve their charming art; 
 Her love still breathes the passions of her heaii. 
 
 Helen was not the only fair, 
 
 By an unhappy passion fir'd, 
 Who the lewd ringlets of the liair 
 Of an adulterous beau admir'd ; 
 « 'ourt arts, gold lace, and equipage have charnis 
 To tempt weak woman to a stranger's arms.
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. 171 
 
 N«r first from Teucer's vengeful bow 
 
 The feather'd death unerring flew, 
 Nor was the Greek the dingle for 
 Whose rage ill-fated Ilion knew 
 rircece had with heroes filFd th' embattled plain, 
 XVorthy the Muse in her sublimest strain , 
 
 Nor Hector first transported heard 
 
 With fierce delight the war's alarms^ 
 Nor brave Deiphobus appear'd 
 Amid the tentend field in arms, 
 With glorious ardour prodigal of life. 
 To guard a darling son and faithful wife. 
 
 Before great Agamemnon reign'd, 
 
 Reign'd kings as great as he, and brave. 
 Whose huge ambition's nowcontain'd 
 In the sroall compass of a grave ; 
 In endless night they sleep, unwept, unknown, 
 No bard had they to make all time their own. 
 
 In earth if it forgotten lies. 
 
 What is the valour of the brave ? 
 What difference, when the coward dies. 
 And sinks in silence to his grave ? 
 Nor, LoUius, will I not thy praise proclaim, 
 But from oblivion vindicate thy fame. 
 
 Nor shall its livid power conceal 
 
 Thy toils — how glorious to the state ! 
 How constant to the public weal 
 Through all the doubtful turns of fate ! 
 Thy steady soul, by long experience found 
 Er^ct alike, when Fortune smil'd or frown'J.
 
 172 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Villains, in public rapine bold, 
 
 Lollius, the just aveng«r, dread, 
 Who never by the charms of gold, 
 Shining seducer, was misled : 
 Beyond thy year such virtue shall extend, 
 And death alone thy consulate shall end. 
 
 Perpetual magistrate is he, 
 
 Who keeps strict Justice full in sight ; 
 With scorn rejects th' offender's fee, 
 Nor weighs convenience against right ; 
 Who bids the crowd at awful distance gaze, 
 And Virtue's arms victoriously displays. 
 
 Not he, of wealth immense possest. 
 
 Tasteless who piles his massy gold, 
 Among the number of the blest 
 Should have his glorious name enroli'd ; 
 He better claims the glorious n.ime, who knows 
 With wisdom to enjoy what heaven bestows ; 
 
 Who knows the wrongs of want to bear. 
 
 Even in its lowest, last extreme 
 Yet can with conscious virtue fear, 
 
 Far worse than death, a deed of shame ,* 
 Undaunted, for his country or his friend. 
 To sacrifice his life— O glorious cn«l ^
 
 ODES; BOOK IV. j; 
 
 ODE X. 
 
 TO LIGURINUS. 
 
 ■ O CRUEL still, and vain of beauty's chartnt-. 
 When wintry age thy insolence disarms ; 
 When fall those locks that on thy shoulders play, 
 And youth's gay roses on thy cheeks decay ; 
 When that smooth face shall manhood's roushnes 
 
 And in your glass another form appear ; 
 Ah why, you'll say, do I now vainly burn, 
 Or with my wishes not my youth return 7 
 
 ODE XI. 
 
 TO PHYLLIS. 
 
 PHYLLIS, I have a cask of wine 
 3Iellow'd by summers more than nine ; 
 With living wreaths to crown our heads 
 The parsley's vivid verdure spreads ; 
 To bind your hair the ivy twines, 
 With plate my cheerful sideboard shines ; 
 With vervain chaste an altar bound, 
 IVow thirsts for blood ; the victim's crown'd.
 
 174 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 All hands employ'd ; with busy haste 
 My boys and girls prepare our feast ; 
 Trembling the pointed flames arise, 
 The smoke rolls upward to the skies. 
 But why this busy, festal care ? 
 This invitation to my fair ? 
 This day the smiling month divides, 
 O'er which the sea-born queen preside? : 
 Sacred to me, and due to mirth, 
 As the glad hour that gave me birth ; 
 For, when this happy morn appears, 
 Maecenas counts a length of years 
 To roll in bright succ :ssIon round, 
 With every joy and blessing crown'd. 
 
 Gay Telephus exults above 
 The humble fortunes of thy love ; 
 A rich and buxom maid detains 
 His captive heart in willing chains. 
 
 The youth destroyed by heavenly fire 
 Forbids ambition to aspire ; 
 And Pegasus, who scorn'd to bear 
 His earth-born rider through the air, 
 A dread example hath supplied 
 To check tlie growth of human pride, 
 And caution my presumtous fair 
 To grasp at things within her sphere. 
 
 Come then, my latest love (for I 
 Shall never for another die,) 
 Come learn with me to newer lays 
 Thy voice of harmony to raise. 
 The soothing song and charming air 
 Shall lessen every gloomy care.
 
 ODES, EOOK IV. 175 
 
 ODE XII. 
 TO VIRGIL. 
 COMPANIONS of the Spring, the Thracian winds 
 With kindly breath now drive the bark from 
 .shore ; 
 No frost, with hoary hand, the meadow binds, 
 Nor swoln with winter snow tlie torrents roar. 
 
 The swallow, hapless bird ! now builds her nest, 
 And in complaining notes begins to sing, 
 
 That, with revenge too cruelly possest. 
 Impious she punish'd an incestuous king. 
 
 Stretched on the springing grass the shepherd swain 
 
 His reedy pipe with rural music fills ; 
 The god, who guards hiiMock, approves the strain 
 The god, who loves Arcadia's gloomy hills. 
 Virgil, 'tis thine with noble youths to feast; 
 
 Yet. since the thirsty season calls for wine^ 
 Would you a cup of generous Bacchus taste, 
 
 Bring you the odours, and a cask is thine. 
 Thy little box of spikenard shall produce 
 
 A mighty cask, that in the cellar lies ; 
 Big with large hopes shall flow th' inspiring juice 
 
 Powerful to sooth our griefs, and raise our joys. 
 If pleasures such as these can charm thy soul, 
 
 Bring the glad merchandise, with sweets replete ; 
 Xor empty-handed shall you touch the bowl, 
 
 Nor do I mean like wealthy folk to treat. 
 Think on the gloomy pile's funereal flames. 
 
 And be no more with soxdid lucre blind ; 
 Mix a short folly with thy labour'd schemes ; 
 
 Tis joyous folly, that unbends the mind.
 
 17« THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE XIII. 
 
 TO LYCE. 
 
 THE gods, the gods have heard ray prayer 
 See, Lyce, see that hoary hair, 
 Yet you a toast would shine : 
 
 You impudently drink and joke. 
 
 And with a broken voice provoke 
 Desires no longer thine. 
 
 Cupid, who joys in dimple sleek. 
 Now lies in blooming Chia's cheek, 
 
 Who tunes the mehing lay ; 
 From blasted oaks the wanton flies, 
 Scar'd'atjthy wrinkles, haggard eyes, 
 
 And herad snow'd o'er with gray. 
 
 Nor glowing purple, nor the blaze 
 Of jewels, can restore the days. 
 
 To thee those days of glory, 
 AVhich, wafted on the wings of time, 
 Even from thy birth to beauty's prime. 
 
 Recorded stand in story. 
 
 Ah ! whither is thy Venus fled ? 
 
 That bloom by nature's cunning spread 1 
 
 That every graceful art ? 
 Of her, of her, what now remains. 
 Who breath'd the loves, who charm'd the swai 
 
 And snatch'd me from my heart ?
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. 177 
 
 Once happy maid ! in pleasing guiles 
 \Who vied wjthCynarain smiles, 
 < Ah ! tragical survival I 
 She glorious died in beauty's bloom, 
 While cruel Fate defers thy doom 
 To be the raven's rival. 
 
 That youths, in fervent wishes bold, 
 Kot without laughter may behold 
 
 A torch, whose early fire 
 , Could every breast with love iniflame.. 
 Now faintly spread a sickly gleani; 
 
 And in a smoke expire.
 
 17i THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 HOW shall our holy senate's care, 
 Or Rome with grateful joy prepare 
 Thy monumental honours; big with fame, 
 And in her festal annals eternize thy name ? 
 
 O thou, where Sol with varied rays 
 The habitable globe surveys, 
 Greatest of princes, whose vindictive war 
 First broke th' unconquer'd Gaul to thy triumphal 
 car ! 
 
 For when thy legions Drusus led, 
 
 How swift the rapid Breuni fled ! 
 
 The rough Genauni fell, and, rais'd in vain 
 
 Tremendous on the Alps, twice overwhelmed the 
 
 plain 
 
 Their haughty towers, tt/'ith just success 
 
 While the good gods thy battle bless, 
 
 Our elder Nero smote with deep dismay 
 
 The Rhaetians huge of bulk, and broke tlieir firm 
 
 array. 
 
 Conspicuous in the martial strife. 
 
 And nobly prodigal of life, 
 
 With what prodigious ruins he oppress'd 
 
 For glorious liberty the death-devoted breast ! 
 
 As when the Pleiads rend the skies 
 
 In mystic dance, the winds arise, 
 
 And work the e^eas untam'd ; such was the force, 
 
 With whic h through spreading fires he spurr'd his 
 
 foaming horse.
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. 17§ 
 
 So branching Aufidus, who laves' 
 The Daunian realms, fierce rolls his wave», 
 When to the golden labours of the swain 
 3[e meditates his wrath, and deluges the plain, 
 
 As Claudius, with impetuous might, 
 1 Broke through the iron ranks of fight ; 
 ; From front to rear the bloodless victor sped, 
 «low'd down th' embattled field, and wide tli« 
 slaughter spread. 
 
 Thine were his troops, his counsels thine, 
 And all his guardian powers divine : 
 For, since the day when Alexandria's port 
 >pen'd, in suppliahce low, her desolated court ; 
 
 When thrice five times the circling sun 
 His annual course of light had run ; 
 Fortune by this success hathcrown'd thy nanie, 
 enfirm'd thy glories past, and rais'd thy future 
 fame. 
 Dread guardian of th' imperial state. 
 Whose presence rules thy country's fate. 
 On whom theMedes with awful wonder gaze, 
 IThora unhous'd Scythians fear, unconquer'd Spain 
 obeys : 
 The Nile, who hides bis sevenfold source, 
 The Tigris, headlong in his course. 
 The Danube, and the ocean wild that roars 
 ^ith monster-bearing waves round Britain's rocky 
 shores : 
 The fearless Gaul thy name reveres. 
 Thy voice the rough Iberian hears, 
 With arms composed the fierce Sicambrians yield. 
 yt view, with dear delight, the carnage of the field.
 
 180 THE WORKS OE HORACE 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 I WOULD have sung of battles dire 
 
 And mighty cities overthrown, 
 When Phoebus smote me with his lyre. 
 And warned me with an angry tone, 
 Not to unfold my little sail, or brave 
 The boundless terrors of the Tyrrhene wave. 
 
 Yet will 1 sing thy peaceful reign. 
 
 Which crowns with fruits our happy field 
 And, rent from Parthia's haughty fane, 
 To Roman Jove his eagles yields ; 
 Augustus bids the rage of war to cease, 
 And shuts up Janus in eternal peace. 
 
 Restrained by arts of ancient fame, 
 
 Wild License walks at large no more. 
 Those arts, by which the Latian name, 
 The Roman strength, th' imperial pow"i , 
 With awful majesty unbounded spread 
 To rising Phoebus from his western bed. 
 
 While watchful Caesar guards our age, 
 
 Nor civil wrath, nor loud alarms 
 Of foreign tumults, nor the rage 
 That joys to forge destructive arms, 
 And ruin'd cities fills with hostile woes, 
 Shall e'er disturb, O Rome, thy safe repose 
 
 I
 
 ODES, BOOK IV. ISl 
 
 NfttioQg, who quaff the rapid stream, 
 
 Where deep the Danube rolls his ware ; 
 The Parthians, of perfidious fame, 
 The Getae fierce, and Seres brave, 
 ley on Tanais who wide extend, 
 :o the Julian laws reluctant bend. 
 
 Our wives and children share our joy, 
 With Bacchus' jovial blessings gay ; 
 
 Thus we the festal hours employ, 
 I Thus grateful hail the busy day ; 
 lit first with solemn rites the gods adore, 
 
 -id. like our sires, their sacred aid implore ; 
 
 n vocal, with harmonious lays 
 i'u Lydian flutes, of cheerful sound, 
 Attemper'd sweetly, we shall raise 
 
 The valiant deeds of chiefs renown'd, 
 
 \i Troy, Auchises, and the godlike race 
 
 ■ Veaus, bloomino; with immortal grace.
 
 ODES. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 ODE I. 
 TO MiECENAS. 
 
 WHILE you, Msecenas, dearest friend, 
 Would Cgesar's person with your own defend ; 
 
 And Antony's high-towered fleet 
 With light Liburnian galleys fearless meet, 
 
 What shall forsaken Horace do, 
 Whose every joy of life depends on you ? 
 
 With thee 'tis liappiness to live, 
 And life, without thee, can no pleasure give. 
 
 Shall I th'unkind comniand obey. 
 And idly waste my joyless hours away ? 
 
 Or, as becomes the brave, embrace 
 The glorious toil, and spurn the thought? of peai 
 
 I will; and over Alpine snow, 
 Or savage Caucasus, intrepid go ; 
 
 Or follow, with undaunted breast, 
 Thy dreadful warfare to the furthest West. 
 
 You^ask, what aid I can afford, 
 A puny warrior ; novice to the sword.
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 18r. 
 
 Abs-^nce, my lord, increases fear ; 
 1 iie danger lessens when the friend is near : 
 
 Thus, if the mother-bird forsake 
 Her unfledgM young, she dreads the gliding snake 
 
 With deeper agonies afraid, 
 Not that her presence could afford them aid. 
 
 With cheerful heart will I sustain^ 
 To purchase your esteem, this dread campaign : 
 
 Not that ray ploughs, with heavier toil, 
 Or with a larger team, may turn my soil ; 
 
 Not that my flocks, when Syrius reigns, 
 3Iay browse "the verdure of Lucania's plains ; 
 
 Not that my villa shall extend 
 To where the walls of Tusculum ascend. 
 
 Thy bounty largely hath supplied, 
 Even with a lavish hand, my utmost pride ; 
 
 Nor will I meanly wish for more, 
 Tasteless in earth to hide the sordid store. 
 
 Like an old miser in the play, 
 <:'>i- like a spendthrift squander it away. 
 
 I
 
 114 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE II. 
 THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE 
 
 LIKE the first mortals blest is he, 
 From debtS; and usury, and business free, 
 
 With his own team who ploughs the soil. 
 Which grateful once confess'd his father's toil. 
 
 The sounds of war nor break his sleep, 
 Nor the rough storm, that harrows up the deep ; 
 
 He shuns the courtier's haughty doors, 
 And the loud science of the bar abjures. 
 
 Sometimes his marriagaVde vines 
 Around the lofty bridegroom elm he twines : 
 
 Or lops the vagrant boughs away, 
 Ingrafting better as the old decay ; 
 
 Or in the vale withjoy surveys 
 His lowing herd safe-wandering as they graze ; 
 
 Or careful stores the flovr-ing gold 
 Prest from the hive, or sheers his tender fold ; 
 
 Or when, with various fruits o'erspread, 
 The mellow Autumn lifts his beauteous head, 
 
 His grafted pears or grapes, that vie 
 With the rich purple of the Tyrian dye, 
 
 Grateful he gathers, and repays 
 His guardian gods upon their festal days ; 
 
 Sometimes beneath an ancient shade, 
 Qr on the matted grass supinely laid, 
 
 Where pours the mountain stream along, 
 And feather'd warblers chant the soothing sonj . 
 
 Or where the lucid fountain flows, 
 And with ifc pmrrauis courts him to repose.
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 186 
 
 But when the rain and «novvs appear, 
 And wintry Jore loud thunders o'er the year, 
 
 With hounds he drives into the toils 
 The foaming boar, and triumphs in his spoils . 
 
 Or for the greedy thrush he lays 
 His nets, and with delusive haits betrays ; 
 
 Artful he sets the springin^^ snare, 
 To catch the stranger crane, or timorous hatCr 
 
 Thus happy, wV;o would stoop to prove 
 The pains, the wrong?, and injuries of lore ? 
 
 But if a chaste aitd virtuous wife 
 Assist him in the tender cares of life ; 
 
 Of sun-burnt charms, but honest fame 
 (Such as the Sabine, or Apulian dame ;) 
 Fatigu'd when humeward he returns, 
 The sacred fire with chuerfal lustre burns ; 
 
 Or if she milk her sweliinjc kine, 
 Or in their folds his happy uo> ks confine ; 
 
 While unbought dainties crown the feast, 
 And luscious wines from this year's vintage presi 
 
 No more shall curious oysters please ; 
 Or fish, the luxury of foteign seas 
 
 (If eastern tempests, thunderhig o'er 
 The wintry wave, shall drive them to our shore 
 
 Or wild-fowl of delicious taste. 
 From distant climates brought to crown the feast 
 
 Shall e'er so grateful prove to me, 
 As olives gather'd from their unctuous tree, 
 
 And herbs that love the flowery field. 
 And cheerful health with pure digestion yield ; 
 
 Or failing, on the festal day, 
 Or kid just rescued from some beast of prey. - 
 
 Amid the feast how joys he to behold 
 Ills well-fed flocks home hasting to their fold' 
 \'or., I 16
 
 186 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Or see his laboured oxen bow 
 Their languid necks, and drag th'inverted ploujii 
 
 At night his numerous slaves to view- 
 Round his domestic gods their mirth pursue ! 
 
 The usurer spoke : determined to begin 
 A country-life, he calls his money in, 
 
 But, ere the moon was in her wane. 
 The wretch had put it out to use again. 
 
 ODE HI. 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 IF parricide ever, in horrors more dire, 
 With impious right hand shall strangle his sire, 
 On garlick, than hemlock more rank, let him feed 
 O stomach of mowers to digest such a weed ! 
 What poison is this in my bosom so glowing ? 
 Have I swallow'd the gore of a viper unknowing ? 
 Canidia perhaps hath handled the feast, 
 And with witchery hellish the banquet hath drest 
 With this did Medea her lover besmear. 
 Young Jason, beyond all his Argonauts fair ; 
 The stench was so strong, that it tam'd to the yoke 
 The brass-footed bulls breathing fire and smoke. 
 On the gown of Creusa its juices she shed, 
 Then on her wing'd dragon in triumph she fled. 
 iNot such the strong vapour that burns up the plains, 
 W^hen the dog-star in anger triumphantly reigns ; 
 ?Vot the shirt of Alcides, that well-labour'd soldier, 
 With flames more envenom'd burn'd into his shoul- 
 der. 
 May the girl of your heart, if ever you taste, 
 ii'.etious Maecenas, so baleful a feast, 
 • r hand o'er your kisses, oh, may she bespread, 
 ■> ■:. 1 lie afar ofl' on the stock of the bed !
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 187 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 AS wolves and lambs by nature disagree, 
 
 So is my hatred firm to thee ; 
 Thou wretch, whose back with flagrant whips h 
 torn ; 
 
 Whose legs with galling fetters worn ; 
 Though wealth thy native insolence inflame, 
 
 A scoundrel ever is the same, 
 While you your thrice three ells of gown display,. 
 
 And stalk along the sacred way, 
 Observe the free-born indignation rise, 
 
 Mark ! how they turn away their eyes : 
 This wretch, they cry, with public lashing flay'd 
 
 Till even the beadle loath'd his trade, 
 Now ploughs his thousand acres of demesne. 
 
 And wears the pavement with his train ; 
 Now on the foremost benches sits, in spite 
 
 Of Otho, an illustrious knight. 
 From slaves and pirates to assert the main. 
 
 Shall Rome such mighty fleets maintain, 
 And shall those fleets, that dreadful rule the sea, 
 
 A pirate and a slave obey ?
 
 }.58 THE WORKS OF HORACE; 
 
 ODEV. 
 
 ON THE WITCH CANIDIA. 
 
 BUT oh; ye godS; whose awful sway 
 Heaven, earth, and human-kmd obey, 
 What can this hideous noise intend ? 
 On me what ghastly looks they bend ' 
 If ever chaste Lucina heard 
 Thy vows in hour of birlh perferr'd • 
 Oh ! by this robe's impurpled train , 
 Its purple pride, alas ! l\ow vain ! 
 By the unerring wrath of Jove, 
 Unerring shall his vengeance prove ; 
 Why like a step-danae do you stare, 
 Or like a wounded tigress glare ? 
 
 Thus while his sacred robes they tear. 
 Tlie trembling boy prefers his prayer ; 
 Then naked stands, with such a form 
 As might an impious Thracian charm. 
 Canidia, crown'd with writhing snakes 
 Dishevell'd, thus the silence breaks : 
 ' Now the magic fire prepare, 
 And from graves uprooted tear 
 Trees, whose horrors gloomy spread 
 Round the mansions of the dead ; 
 Bring the eggs and plumage foul 
 Of a midnight-shrieking owl ; 
 Be they well besmeared with blood 
 Of the blackest-venom'd toad ;
 
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 1^ 
 
 From their various climates brin»' 
 
 Every herb that taints the spring ; 
 
 Then into the charm be thrown,. 
 
 Snatch'd from famish'd bitch; a bone . 
 
 Burn them all with magic flame, 
 
 Kindled first by Colchian dame V 
 Now Sagana,. around the cell, 
 Sprinkled her waters black from hell ; 
 Fierce as a porcupine, or boar, 
 In frightful wreaths her hair she wore. 
 
 Veia, who never !<new remorse, 
 Uplifts the spade with feeble force. 
 And, breathless with the hellish toil. 
 Deep-groaning break? the guilty soil. 
 Turns out the earth, and digs a grave. 
 In which the boy (as o'er the wave 
 A lusty swimmer lifts his head) 
 Chin- deep sinks downwai-d to the dead, 
 O'er dainties, chaug'd twice thrice a-day 
 Slowly to gaze his life away ; 
 That the foul hags an amorous dose 
 Of his parch'd marrow may compose. 
 His marrow and his liver dried, 
 The seat where wasiton thoughts reside. 
 When, fixt upon his food in vain, 
 His eye-balls pin'd away by pain. 
 
 Naples, for idleness renown'd, 
 And all the villages around, 
 Believe that Folia shar'd their rites, 
 She who in monstrous lusts delights, 
 Whose voice the stars from heaven can tear- 
 And charm bright Luna from her sphere. 
 
 Here, with black tooth and livid jaw.?. 
 Her unpar'd thumbs Canidia gnaws,
 
 190 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 And into hideous accents broke ; 
 
 In sounds, how direful ! thus she spoke : 
 
 Ye powers of darkness and of hell, 
 Propitious to the magic spell, 
 Who rule in silence o'er the night, 
 While we perform the mystic rite, 
 Be present now, your horrors shed, 
 In hallow'd vengeance on his head. 
 Beneath the forest's gloomy shade 
 AVhile beasts in slumbers sweet are laid,. 
 Give me the leecher, old and lew'd. 
 By barking village-curs pursued, 
 Expos'd to laughter, let him shine 
 In essence — ah ! that once was mine. 
 What ! shall my strongest potions fail, 
 And could Medea's charms prevail ? 
 When the fair harlot, proud of heart, 
 Deep felt the vengeance of her art ; 
 Her gown, with powerful poisons dyed. 
 In flames enwrappM the guilty bride. 
 Yet every root and herb I know, 
 And on what steepy depths they grow, 
 And yet, with essence round him shed, 
 He sleeps in some bold harlot's bed ; 
 Or walks at large, nor thinks of me. 
 By some more mighty witch set free. 
 
 But soon the wretch my wrath shall prov< 
 By spells unwonted taught to love ; 
 Nor shall even Marsian charms have power 
 Thy peace, O Varus to restore. 
 With stronger drugs, a larger bowl 
 I'll fill, to bend thy haughty soul ; 
 Sooner the seas to heaven shall rise. 
 And earth spring upwards to the ekies,
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 101 
 
 Than you not burn in fierce desire, 
 As liielts this pitch in smoky fire. 
 
 The boy, with lenient words, no more 
 Now strives their pity to implore ; 
 With rage yet doubtful what to speak, 
 Forth from his lips these curses break : — 
 Your spells may right and wrong remove, 
 But ne'er shall change the wrath of Jove ; 
 For, while I curse the direful deed. 
 In vain shall all your victims bleed. 
 Soon as this tortur'd body dies, 
 A midnight Fury will I rise : 
 Then shall my ghost, though form'd of air, 
 Your cheeks with crooked talons tear, 
 
 Unceasing on your entrails prey, 
 
 And fright the thoughts of sleep away : 
 
 Such horrors shall the guilty know, 
 
 Such is the power of gods below. 
 Ye filthy hags, with showers of stones 
 
 Tiie vengeful crowd shall crush your bones ; 
 
 Then beasts of prey, and birds of air, 
 
 Shall your unburied members tear, 
 
 And, while they weep their favourite boy, 
 ^fy parents shall the vengeful sight enjoy.
 
 1J2 THE WOFvKS OF HORACE. 
 
 ODE VI. 
 TO CASSIUS SEVERUS. 
 
 YOU dog, that fearful to provoke 
 The wolf, attack offenceless folk ! 
 Turn hither, if you dare, your spite, 
 And bark at me, prepared to bite. 
 For like a hound, or mastifi' keen. 
 That guards the shepherd's flocky green. 
 Through the deep snows I boldly chase, 
 With ears erect, the savage race ; 
 But you, when with your hideous yelling; 
 You fill the grove, at crusts are smelling. 
 
 Fierce as Archilochus I glow ; 
 Like Hipponax a deadly foe. 
 If any Mongrel shall assail 
 My character with tooth and nail ; 
 What! like a truant boy, shall I 
 Bo nothirtg in revenge — but cry ?
 
 ODES, COOK V. in 
 
 ODE VII. 
 TO THE ROMAN PEOPLE, 
 
 WHITHER, oh ! whither, impious, do ye run 
 Why is the sword unsheath'd ; the war begun ? 
 Has then too little of the Latian blood 
 Been pour'd on earth, or mis'd with Neptune' 
 
 flood? 
 Vut tb.at the Romans with avenging flame 
 ?.lig)it burn the rival of the Roman name. 
 Or Britons, yet unbroken to our vvar. 
 In chains should follow our triumphal car, 
 But that the Parthian should his vows enjoy, 
 And Rome, with impious hand, herself destroy 
 
 The rage of wolves and lions is confin'd ; 
 They never prey but on a different kind. 
 Answer, From madness rise those horrors dire i 
 Does angry fate, or guilt, your souls inspire 1 
 Silent they stand ; with stupid wonder gaze, 
 While the pale cheek their inward guilt betrays, 
 "Tis so — the Fates have cruelly decreed, 
 That Rome for ancient fratricide must bleed : 
 The brother's blood, which stainM our rising wall-. 
 On his descendants, loud, for vengeance calL^. 
 
 <^0L I
 
 J94 THE WORKfc? OF IIORACi 
 
 ODE IX 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 WHEN shall we quaff your old Caecubian wjnc 
 Reserv'd for pious feasts and joys divine ? 
 Caesar with conquest comes, and gracious JovET, 
 Who gave that conquest,, shall our joys approve 
 Then bid the breath of harmony inspire 
 The Doric flute, and wake the Phrygian lyre ; 
 As late, when the Neptunian youth, who spurn'ci 
 A mortal birth, beheld his navy burn'd, 
 And fled affrighted through his father's waves 
 AVith his perfidious host; his host of slaves, 
 Freed from those chains with which his rage ^e.- 
 
 signd, 
 Impious ! the free-born sons of Rome to bind. 
 
 The Roman troops (Oh ! be the tale denied 
 By futrue times) enslav'd ta woman's pride, 
 And to a withered eunuch's will severe 
 Basely subdu'd, the toils of war could bear 
 Amidst the Roman eagles Sol survey 'd, 
 O shame ! th' Egyptian canopy displayed ; 
 When tvvice a tliousand Gauls aloud proclaim 
 Indignant at the sight, great Caesar's name^ 
 And a brave fleet, by just reseutment led, 
 Turu'd their broad prows,, and to our havens fleSL. 
 
 Come, god of triumphs, bring the golden car. 
 The uatam'd heifers, and the spoiia of war ; 
 For he, whose virtue rais'd his awful tomb 
 OJsr raih'd Cartilage, ne'er return'd to Rome
 
 ODES, BOOK V. m 
 
 ^j great and glorious, nor could Libya's field 
 To thee, O Triumph, such a leader yield. 
 
 Pursu'd by land and sea, the vanquished foe 
 Hath chang'd his purple for the garb of woe ; 
 With winds, no more his own ; with shattered fleei 
 He seeks the far-fam'd hundred towns of Crete ; 
 To temp>€st-beaten Libya speeds his way, 
 Or drives a vagrant through th' uncertain sea. 
 
 Boy, bring us larger bowls, and fill them rouiiU 
 With Chian, or the Lesbian vintage crown'd. 
 Or rich Caecubian, which may best restrain 
 All sickening qualms, and fortify the brain. 
 Th' inspiring juice shall the gay banquet warn? 
 NcTr Ceesars danger shall our fears alarni:
 
 19G THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE X. 
 TO MiEVIUS. 
 
 WHEN filthy Msevius hoists the spreading sail 
 
 Each luckless omen shall prevail. 
 Ye southern winds, invert the foamy tides, 
 
 And bang his labouring vessel's sides ; 
 Let Eurus rouse the main with blackening roar 
 
 Crack every cable, every oar ; 
 Let the north wind rise dreadful o'er the flood- 
 
 As when it breaks the mountain- woods. 
 Nor let one friendly star shine o'er the night, 
 
 When sets Orion's gloomy light. 
 Mayst thou no kinder winds, O Msevius, meet. 
 
 Than the victorious Grecian fleet, 
 When Pallas turn'd her rage from ruin'd Troy. 
 
 The impious Ajax to destroy. 
 With streams of sweat the toiling sailor gicwp. 
 
 Thy face a muddy paleness shows ; 
 Nor shall thy vile, unmanly wailings move 
 
 The pity of avenging Jove. 
 While watery winds the bellowing ocean shake, 
 
 I see thy luckless vessel break : 
 But if thy carcass reach the winding shore, 
 
 And birds the pamper'd prey devour, 
 A lamb and lustful goat shall thank the storm 
 
 Antl I the sacrifice perform..
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 197 
 
 ODE XI. 
 
 TO PETTIUS. 
 
 tINCE cruel love, O Pettius, pierc'd my heart, 
 Hgw have I lost my once-lov'd lyric art ! 
 Thrice have the woods their leafy honour mourn'd^ 
 Since for Inachia's beauties Horace burn'd. 
 How was I then (for I confess my shame) 
 Of every idle tale the laughing theme I 
 Oh! that I ne'er had known the jovial feast, 
 Where the deep sigh, that rends the labouring 
 
 breast, 
 Where languor, and a gentle silence shows. 
 To every curious eye, the lover's woes. 
 
 Pettius, how often o'er the flowing bowl, 
 •When the gay liquor warm'd my opening soul, 
 When Bacchus, jovial god, no more restrain'd 
 The modest secret, how have I complain'd. 
 That weaUhy blockheads, i»a female's eyes, 
 From a poor poet's genius bear the prize ! 
 But if a generous rage ray breast should warm, 
 I swore — no vain amusements e'er shall charm 
 My aching wounds. Ye vagrant winds, receive 
 The sighs, that sooth the pains they should relieve. 
 Here shall my shame of being conquer'd end, 
 Nor with such rivals will I more contend. 
 
 When thus, with solemn air, I vaunting said,. 
 Inspir'd by thy advice I homeward sped : 
 But ah I m3" feet m wonted wanderings stray, 
 And to no friendly doors my steps betray ; 
 There I forget my vows, forget my pride, 
 Vnd at her tlireshold lay my tortur'd side.
 
 J.98 THE WORKS OF HORACK 
 
 ODE xiir. 
 
 TO A FRIEND. 
 
 SEE what horrid tempests rise, 
 And contract the clouded skies ; 
 Snows and showers fill the air, 
 And bring down the atmosphere. 
 Hark ! what tempests sweep the floods ! 
 How they shake the rattling woods ! 
 
 Let us while it's in our power, 
 Let us seize the fleeting hour ; 
 While our cheeks are fresh and gay. 
 Let us drive old age away ; 
 Let us smooth its gathered brows, 
 Youth its hour of mirth allows. 
 
 Bring us down the mellow'd wine, 
 Rich with years, that equal mine ; 
 Prithee, talk no more of sorrow, 
 To the gods belongs to-morrow, 
 And, perhaps, with gracious power 
 They may change the gloomy hour. 
 Let the richest essence shed 
 Eastern odours on your head. 
 While the soft Cyllenian lyre 
 Shall your labouring breast inspire. 
 
 To his pupil, brave and young. 
 Thus the noble Centaur sung : 
 Matchless mortal ! though 'tis thine 
 Proud to boast a birth divine.
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 199 
 
 Yet the banks, with cooling waves 
 Which the smooth Scaraander laves : 
 \nd where Simois with pride 
 Rougher rolls his rapid tide, 
 Destin'd by unerring Fate, 
 Shall the sea-born hero wait. 
 
 There the Sisters, fated boy, 
 Shall thy thread of life destroy, 
 Nor shall azure Thetis more 
 Waft thee to thy natal shore ; 
 Then let joy and mirth be thine, 
 Mirthful songs, and joyous wine, 
 And with converse blithe and gay 
 Dj-ive all gloomy cares awaj'. 
 
 I
 
 'M THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 ODE XV. 
 TO NEiERA. 
 
 CLEAR was the night, the face of heaven seieiK- 
 Bright shone the moon amidst her starry train,. 
 When round my neck as curls the tendril-vine — 
 (Loose are its curlings, if compar'd to thine ;) 
 'Tvvas then, Insulting every heavenly power, 
 That, as I dictated, you boldly swore : 
 While the gaunt wolf pursues the trembling sheep 
 While fierce Orion harrows up the deep ; 
 While Phoebus' locks float wanton in the wind, 
 Thus shall Nesera prove, thus ever kind. 
 
 But, if with aught of man was Horace borii^ 
 ^Severely shalt thou feel his honest scorn ; 
 Nor will he tamely bear the bold delight, 
 With which his rival riots out the night, 
 But in his anger seek some kinder dame. 
 Warm with the raptures of a mutual flame ; 
 Nor shall thy rage, thy grief, or angry charms 
 Recall the lover to thy faithless arms. 
 And thou, whoe'er thou art, who joy to shine. 
 Proud as thou art, in spoils which once were mint'. 
 Though wide thy land extends, and large thy fold, 
 Though rivers roll for thee their purest gold. 
 Though nature's wisdom in her works were thine. 
 And beauties of the human fa?e divine. 
 Yet soon thy pride her wandering love shall mourn - 
 While I shall laugh, exulting in my turn,
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 201 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 TO THE ROMANS. 
 
 liS endless civil war, th' imperial state 
 i3y her own strength precipitates her fate. 
 What neighbouring nations, fiercely leagu'd inarms 
 What Porsena, with insolent aly.rms 
 Threatening her tyrant monarch to restore ; 
 What Spartacus, and Capua"s rival power ; 
 What Gaul, tumultuous and devoid of truth, 
 Ann fierce Geriuania, with her blue-eyed youth 
 What Hannibal, on whose accursed head 
 Our sires their deepest imprecations shed. 
 In vain attempted to her awful state, 
 Shall we, a blood-devoted race, complete ? 
 Again shall savage beasts these hills possess / 
 And fell barbarians, wanton with success, 
 Scatter our city's flaming ruins wide, 
 Or through her streets in vengeful triumph ride 
 And her great founder's hallovv'd ashes spurn. 
 That sleep uninjur'd in their sacred urn 1 
 
 But some, perhaps, to shun the rising shame 
 (Which Heaven approve) would try some happier 
 
 scheme. 
 As the Phocoeans oft for freedom bled, 
 At length, with imprecated curses, fled 
 And left to boars aad wolves the sacred fanje. 
 With all their household gods, ador'd in vain ; 
 So let us fly, as far as earth extends. 
 Or where the vagrant wind our voyage bends. 
 
 Shall this, or shall some better scheme prevail •' 
 Why do we stop to hoist the willing sail ?
 
 ::»2 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 But let us swear, when floating rocks shall gau. 
 Rais'd from the deep, the surface of the main , 
 When lowiy Po the mountain-summit Igives, 
 And Apennine shall plunge beneath the waves ; 
 When nature's monsters meet in strange delight,. 
 And the fell tigress ,-liall with stags unite ; 
 When the fierce kite shall woo the willing dove. 
 And win the wanton with adulterous love ; 
 When herds on brindled lions fearless gaze, 
 And the smooth goat exults in briny seas : 
 Then, and then only, to the tempting gale 
 To spread repentant the returning sail. 
 
 Yet to cut off our hopes, those hopes that chavni 
 Our fondness home, let us with curses arm 
 These high resolves. Thus let the brave and wise. 
 Whose souls above th' indocile vulgar rise ; 
 Then let the crow'd, who dare not hope success, 
 Inglorious, these ill-omen'd seats possess. 
 
 But ye, whom virtue warms, indulge no more 
 These female plaints, but quit this fated shore ; 
 For earth-surrounding sea our flight awaits, 
 Offering its blissful isles, and happy seats. 
 Where annual Ceres crowns th'uncuitur'd field, 
 And vines unprun'd their blushing clusters yield ; . 
 Where olives, faithful to their season, grow. 
 And figs with nature's deepest purple glow ; 
 From hollow oaks where honey'd streams distil. 
 And bounds with noisy foot the pebbled rill ; 
 Where goats untaught forsake the flowery valc; 
 And bring their swelling udders to the pail ; 
 Nor evening bpars the sheep-fold growl around, 
 Nor mining vipers heave the tainted ground ; 
 Nor watry Eurus deluges the plain, 
 Nor heats excessive burn the springing grain.
 
 ODES, BOOK V. 203'' 
 
 Not Argo thither turn'd her armed head ; 
 Medea there no magpie poieun sprt-ad ; 
 No merchants thither plough the pathless main. 
 For guilty commerce, and a thirst of gain ; 
 Nor wise Ulysses, and his wandering bands, 
 Vicious, though brave, e'er knew these happy lands. 
 O'er the glad flocks no foul contagion spreads, 
 Nor summer sun his burning influence sheds. 
 
 Pure and unmix'd the world's first ages roU'd : 
 But soon as brass had stain'd the flowing gold, 
 To iron harden 'd by succeeding crimes, 
 Jove for the just preserv'd these happy climes, 
 To which the gods this pious race invite, 
 And bid me. raptur'd bard, direct their flight; 
 
 ODE XVII. 
 TO CANIDIA. 
 
 CANIDIA, 10 thy matchless art, 
 Vanquish'd I yield a suppliant heart ; 
 But oh ! b}- Hell's extended plains, 
 "Where Pluto's gloomy consort reigns ; 
 By bright Diana's vengeful rage, 
 Which prayers nor hecatombs assuage 
 And by the books, of power to call 
 The charmed stars, and bid them fall. 
 No more pronounce the sacred scroll, - 
 But back the magic circle roll.
 
 204 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 Even stern Achilles could forgive 
 The Mysian king, and bid him live, 
 Though proud he rang'd the ranks of fight. 
 And hurl'd the spear with daring might. 
 Thus, when the murderous Hector lay 
 Condenin'd to dogs, and birds of prey, 
 Yet when his royal father kneel'd, 
 The fierce Achilles knew to yield ; 
 And Troy's unhappy matrons paid 
 Their sorrows to their Hector's shade. 
 
 Ulysses' friends, in labours tried. 
 So Circe will'd threw off their hide, 
 Assum'd the human form divine, 
 And dropp'd the voice and sense of swine. 
 
 O thou, whom tars and merchants love, 
 Too deep thy vengeful rage I prove, 
 Reduc'd, alas ! to skin and bone, 
 My vigour fled, my colour gone, 
 Thy fragrant odours on my head 
 3Iore than the snov/s of age have shed. 
 Days press on'nights. and nights on days-, 
 Yet never bring an hour of ease, 
 While, gasping in the pangs of death, 
 I stretch my lungs in vain for breath. 
 
 Thy charms have power (''tis now confesf ' 
 To split the head, and tear the breast. 
 What would you more, all-charming dame ■ 
 O seas, and earth ! this scorching flame ! 
 Not such the fire Alcides bore. 
 When the black-venom'd shirt he wore 
 Nor such the flames, that to the skies 
 From Etna's burning entrails rise : 
 And yet, thou shop of poisons dire^ 
 You glow with unrelenting fire,.
 
 O JES, BOOK V. '205 
 
 Till, by the rapid heat calcin'd, 
 Vagrant I drive before the wind. 
 
 How long ? — What ransom shall I pay ? 
 i*2peak — I the stern command obey. 
 To expiate the guilty deed, 
 Say, shall a hundred bullocks bleed ? 
 Or shall I to the lying string 
 Thy fame and spotless virtue sing ? 
 Teach thee, a golden star, to rise, 
 And deathless walk the spangled skies ? 
 
 When Helen's virtue was defara'd, 
 Her brothers, though with rage inflam'd. 
 Yet to the bard his eyes restor'd, 
 When suppliant he their grace implorM. 
 
 Oh I calm this madness of my brain, 
 For you can heal this raging pain. 
 You never knew the birth of shame, 
 Nor by thy hand, all-skilful dame, 
 The poor man's ashes are upturned, 
 Though they be thrice three days inurn'd 
 Thy bosom's bounteous and humane, 
 Thy hand from blood and murder clean 
 And with a blooming race of boys 
 liUqina crowns thy mother-joys.
 
 L 
 
 '206 THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 CANIDIA'S ANSWER. 
 
 I'LL hear no more. Thy prayers a,re vain 
 Not rocks, amid the wintry main, 
 Less heed the shipwreck'd sailors's cries,- 
 When Neptune bids the tempest rise. 
 Shall you Cotyttia's feast deride. 
 Yet safely triumph in thy pride ? 
 Or, impious, to the glare of day 
 Tlie sacred joys of love betray ? 
 Or fill the city with my name, 
 And pontiff like our rights defame ? 
 Did I with wealth in vain enrich 
 Of potent spells each charming witcfv 
 Or mix the speedy drugs in vain ? 
 No — ^through a lingering length of paiu 
 Reluctant shalt thou drag thy days^ 
 While every hour new pangs shall raise- 
 Gazing on the delusive feast, 
 Which charms his eye^ yet flies his taste 
 ' Perfidious Tantalus implores, 
 ' For rest, for rest, the vengeful powers , 
 Prometheus, while the vulture preys 
 Upon his liver,, longs for ease ; 
 And Sisyphus, with many a groan, 
 Uprolls, with ceaseless toil, his atonCj, 
 To fix it on the topmost hill — 
 ' In vain — for Jove's all-ruling v^'ilf 
 Forbids. When thus in black despair 
 ■Down from some castle, high in air. 
 You seek a headlong fate below, 
 Or- try the dagger's pointed bloi;»',
 
 ODES; BOOK V. 20: 
 
 Or if the left-ear'd knot you tie, 
 Yet death your vain attempts shall fly , 
 Then on your shoulders will I ride, 
 And earth shall shake beneath my pride. 
 
 Could I with life an^ image warm 
 (Impertinent, you saw the charm.) 
 Or tear down Luna from her skies. 
 Or bid the dead, thou^fh burn'd, arise, 
 jQr mix the draught inspiring love,. 
 -Aod shall my art on thee successless prove '
 
 THE 
 
 SECULAR POEM. 
 
 The Poet to the People. 
 
 JiTAND off, ye \iilgar, nor profane, 
 With bold, unhallow'd sounds, this festal scf 
 In hymns inspir'd by trutli divine, 
 I, priest to the melodious Nine, 
 
 J"o 3'ouths and virgins sing the mystic strain 
 
 To the Chorus of Youths and Virgins. 
 
 PHCEBUS taught me how to sing. 
 How to tune the vocal string ; 
 Phoebus made me known to Fame, 
 Honour'd with a poet's name. 
 
 Noble youths, and virgins fair, 
 Chaste Diana's guardian care 
 (Goddess, whose unerring dart 
 Stops the lynx, or flying hart,) 
 Mark the Lesbian measures well, 
 
 Where they fall, and where they swell 
 And in varied cadence sing, 
 As I strike the changing string. 
 To the god, who gilds the skies. 
 Let the solemn numbers rise ; 
 Solemn sing the queeu of night, 
 And her crescent's bending light, 
 Which adown the fruitful year 
 Rolls tjie months in prone career.
 
 THE SECULAR POEM. 20^J 
 
 Soon, upon her bridal day, 
 Thus the joyful maid shall say : 
 When the great revolving year 
 Bade the festal morn appear, 
 High the vocal hymn I rais'd, 
 And the listening gods were pleas''d.> 
 All the vocal hymn divine, 
 Horace, tuneful bard, was thine. 
 
 FIRST CONCERT, 
 HYMN TO APOLLO. 
 
 Chorus of Youths and Virgins 
 
 riTYUS, with impious lust inspird, 
 By chaste Latona's beauties fir'd, 
 
 Thy wrath, O Phoebus, tried; 
 \nd Niobe, of tongue profane, 
 Deplor'd her numei'ous offspring slain, 
 
 Sad victuus of their mothers pride, 
 
 Achilles too, the son of Fame, 
 
 Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born daine 
 
 And first of men in fight, 
 Though warring with tremendous spear 
 He shook the Trojan towers with fear, 
 
 Yet bow'd to thy superior might , 
 
 The cypress, when by storms impeil'd. 
 Or pine, by biting axes fell'd. 
 
 Low bends the towering head ; 
 So falling on th' ensanguin'd plain. 
 By your unerring arrow slain, 
 
 His mighty bulk the hero spread 
 Vol I ■ 18
 
 m THE WORKS OF HORACE 
 
 He had not Priam's heedless court, 
 Dissolved in wine, and festal sport, 
 
 With midnight art surprised ; 
 But, bravely bold, of open force, 
 Tfad proudly scorn'd Minerva's horse 
 
 And all its holy cheat despis'd ; 
 
 Then arm'd, alas! with horrors dire. 
 Wide-wasting with resistless ire, 
 
 Into t;;r flaiiics had thrown 
 Infants, upon whos-e faltering tongue 
 Their words in formless accents hung. 
 
 Infants to light and life unknown: 
 
 But eh arm 'd by beauty's queen and thee, 
 The sire of gods, with just decree 
 
 Assenting, shook the skies ; 
 That Troy should change th' imperial seat, 
 \nd. guided by a better fate, 
 
 Glorious in distant realms should rise 
 
 Oh ! may the god, who could inspire 
 With living sounds the Grecian lyre : 
 
 In Xanthus' lucid stream 
 Who joys to bathe his flowing hair, 
 >fow make the Latian muse his care. 
 
 And powerful guard her rising fame
 
 THE SECULxVR POEM. 2U 
 
 SECOND CONCERT. 
 
 Chorus of Youths. 
 VE virgias, sing Diana's praise. 
 
 Chorus of Virgins. 
 I'e bjys, let youthful Phoebus crown your lays, 
 
 The Two Choirs. 
 Together let us raise the voice 
 
 To her, belov'd by Jove supreme ; 
 Let fiiir Latona be the theme, 
 ).ur tuneful theme, his beauteous choice. 
 
 Chorus of Youths. 
 
 Ye virgins, sing Diana's fame, 
 Who bat'ues delighted in the limpid stream ; 
 Dark Erymanthus' awful groves, 
 The woods that Algidus o'erspread, 
 Or wave on Cragus' verdant head, 
 Joyous th' immortal huntress loves. 
 
 Chorus of Virgins. 
 
 Ye boys, with equal honour sing 
 Talr Tempe cloth'd with ever-bloomiog spring ; 
 Then hail the Delian birth divine, 
 
 Whose shoulders, beaming heavenly fire, 
 Grac'd with his brother's warbling lyre, 
 Vnd with the golden quiver shine. 
 
 * The tweoty-Snt OJe cf «he £ret Bock.
 
 212 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 Chorus of YotUhs and Virgins. 
 
 Mov'd by the solemn voice of prayer, 
 They both shall make imperial Rome their care 
 And gracious turn the direful woes 
 Of famine and of weeping war 
 From Rome; from sacred Caesar far, 
 Aiid pour them on our British foes. 
 
 THIRD CONCERT. 
 TO APOLLO AND DIANA. 
 
 Chorus of Youths and Virgins. 
 
 YE radiant glories of the skies, 
 Ever-beaming god of light, 
 Sweetly shining queen of night, 
 
 Beneath whose wrath the wood-born savage die^ : 
 Ye powers, to whom with ceaseless praise 
 A grateful world its homage pays, 
 Let our prayer, our prayer be heard, 
 Now in this solemn hour preferr'd. 
 When by the Sibyl's dread command, 
 Of spotless maids a chosen train, 
 Of spotless youths a chosen band, 
 
 To all our guardian gods uplift thehallow'd strain. 
 
 Chorus of Youths. 
 
 Fair Sun, who with unchanging beam 
 Rising another and the same.
 
 THE SECULAR POEM. 215 
 
 Dost from thy beamy car unfold 
 
 The glorious day. 
 Or hide it in thy setting ray, 
 Of light and life immortal source, 
 IMayst thou, in .dl thy radiant course, 
 Vothing more great than seven-hill'd Rome bcholti- 
 
 Chorus of Virgins. 
 
 Goddess of the natal hour, 
 Or, if other name more dear, 
 Propitious power. 
 Can charm your ear, 
 Our pregnant matrons gracious hear : 
 With lenient hand their pangs compose, 
 
 Heal their agonizing throes ; 
 Give the springing birth to light. 
 And with every genial grace. 
 Prolific of an endless race, 
 Oh ! crown our marriage-laws, and bless the nnp 
 tial rite : 
 
 Chorus of Youths and Virgins. 
 
 That when the circling years complete 
 Again this awful reason bring. 
 
 Thrice with the day's revolving lighr, 
 Thrice beneath the shades of night, 
 In countless bands our youthful choirs may sing 
 These festal hymns, these pious games repeat. 
 
 Ye Fates, from whom unerring flows 
 The word of trutl: ; whose firm decree 
 
 Tts stated bounds and order knows, 
 Wide-spreading through etemitV;
 
 t'14 THE WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 With guardian care around us wait, 
 
 And with successive glories crown the state. 
 
 Let earth her various fruitage yield, 
 
 Her living verdure spread, 
 And form, amid the waving field, 
 A sheafy crown for Ceres' head ; 
 Fall genial showers, and o'er our fleecy care 
 May Jove indulgent breathe his purest air ' 
 
 Chorus of Youths. 
 
 Phoebus, whose kindly beams unpart 
 Health and gladness to the heart, 
 While in its quiver lies the pestilential dar(, 
 Thy youthful suppliants hear : 
 
 Chorus of Virgins. 
 
 Queen of the stars, who rul'st the niglil; 
 In horned majesty of light. 
 Bend to thy virgins a propitious ear. 
 
 Chorus of Youths and Virgitis. 
 
 If, ye gods, the Roman state 
 
 Was form'd by your immortal power, 
 Or if, to change th' imperial seat. 
 And other deities adore. 
 Beneath your guidance the Dardanian host 
 .Poiu'd forth their legions on the Tuscan Qoast
 
 THE SECULAR POEM. 21 -^ 
 
 For whom ^Eneas, through the fire, 
 In which he saw his Troy expire, 
 A passa,£;e open'd to a happier clime, 
 
 Where they might nobler triumphs gain, 
 And to never-ending time 
 With boundless empire reign. 
 
 Ye gods, inform our decile yonil. 
 With early principles of truth; 
 Ye gods, indulge the waning days 
 Of silver'd age with placid ease, 
 And grant to Rome an endless race, 
 Treasure immense, and every sacred grace. 
 
 The prince, who owes to beauty's queen his birth. 
 Who bids the snowy victim's blood 
 Pour forth to-day its purple flood. 
 Oh ! may he glorious rule the conquered earth ; 
 But yet a milder glory show 
 In mei-cy to the prostrate foe ! 
 
 Already the fierce Mede his arms reveres". 
 
 Which wide extend th' imperial sway. 
 
 And bid th' unwilling world oljey ; 
 The haughty Indian owns h"»' fears. 
 
 And Scythians, doubtful of their doom. 
 
 Await the dread resolves of Rome. 
 
 F'aith; Honour, Peace, celestial maid, 
 And Modesty, in ancient guise array "u, 
 And Virtue (with unhallow'd scorn 
 Too long neglected) now appear, 
 While Plenty fills her bounteous horn, 
 And pours her blessings o'er the various year.
 
 JtO THE WORKS OF HORACE, 
 
 ■ Chorus of Youths. 
 
 If the prophetic power divinC; 
 Fam'd for the golden bow and quivered darj 
 Who knows to charm the hstening Nine, 
 And feeble mortals raise with healing art ; 
 If he with gracious eye survey the towers 
 Whei'c Rome his deity adores, 
 Oh ! let each era still presage 
 Increase of happiness from age to age I 
 
 Chorus of Virgins. 
 
 Oh ! may Diana, on these favourite hills.. 
 Whose diffusive presence fills 
 Her hallow'd fane, 
 Propitious deign 
 Our holy priests to hear, 
 And to our youth incline her willing ear '. 
 
 Chorus of Youths and Virgins. 
 
 Xo ! we the chosen, youthful choir, 
 Taught.with harmonious voice to raise 
 Apollo's and Diana's praise. 
 In full and certain hope retire, 
 That all th' assembled gods, and sovereign Jove 
 These pious i'ows, these choral hymns approve.
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILir/ 
 
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