v^ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE ODES AND CARMEN SECULARE 
 OF HORACE
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 JAMES MACLEHUSE AND SONS, GLASGOW, 
 flnblishsis to the Stntbtrsitii. 
 
 MACMILLAS AND CO., LONDON AND NEW YORK. 
 
 London, - ■ Sivipkin, Hamilton and Co. 
 
 Cambridge, - Macmillan and Bowes. 
 
 Edinburgh, ■ Douglas and Foulis. 
 
 MDCCCXCVI.
 
 THE 
 
 ODES & CARMEN SECULARE 
 
 OF 
 
 HORACE 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE 
 
 BY 
 
 A. S. AGLEN, iM.A. 
 
 ARCHDEACON OF ST. ANDREWS 
 
 Diilce periculuvi 
 
 GLASGOW 
 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE AND SONS 
 
 publishers to the S^nibcvsitg 
 
 1896
 
 ?A 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 If I owe to any one an apology for this rash 
 adventure it is to the Shade of Horace himself. But 
 the genial bard would, I am sure, forgive. He was 
 always indulgent to those who would make a friend 
 of him, and if he could know what a solace through 
 many a sleepless night, what an amusement during 
 many a solitary walk, the attempt to translate his 
 Odes has been, he would be indulgent to me. 
 Besides, every fresh proof that his style was too 
 perfect to admit of translation must gratify that 
 vanity which was so transparent, and at the same 
 time so harmless. And if any blame must be 
 incurred for not keeping to myself the versions 
 which it was so pleasant to make, it must be laid 
 at the door of the too kind friends who have urged 
 publication. 
 
 818554
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 I cannot, however, expect my critics, if I find 
 any, to be so indulgent, and I hasten to anticipate 
 one censure which I am conscious is not unde- 
 served. I have followed no rule in my choice 
 of metres, or to be more exact, I found that the 
 rule with which I started, to appropriate to each 
 Ode some particular metre, must have exceptions. 
 I have examined the theories on which other 
 translators have worked, and they all seem to me 
 to break down somewhere. I doubt if Horatian 
 translation admits of a workable theory. A rigid 
 adherence to any rule tends to introduce, what is 
 never apparent in the original, a mark of effort. 
 Even when it becomes common-place the verse of 
 Horace is "inevitable." The right word comes in 
 the right place. And he handles all subjects, grave 
 or gay, with the same exquisite felicity of touch 
 and lightness of phrase. He may be occasionally 
 dull, but he never halts. Even in the Odes which 
 deal with the serious themes from which he pro- 
 fesses to long to escape to his favourite mood, and 
 non praeter soiihwi levis to sing of mirth and love, 
 the verse trips along with an ease all its own. My 
 chief aim in selecting a metre has been to try —
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 how imperfectly no one knows better than myself 
 — to preserve something of the feeling of freedom 
 from restraint with which even the prolix political 
 Odes glide along. 
 
 It is, perhaps, for the metre which I have most 
 frequently employed to render the Alcaic stanza 
 that I shall incur most blame. I readily acknow- 
 ledge its defects. It has six lines instead of four, 
 and presents no equivalent to the stately third 
 line which gives the Latin stanza its characteristic 
 grandeur, and has won for it the name " the 
 solemn Alcaic."' But I could not light upon any 
 English four-lined verse which did not seem to me 
 too monotonous to represent the Alcaic with its 
 three varieties of measure. The incomparable imi- 
 tation of it invented and so skilfully handled by 
 Tennyson I found beyond my capacity. 
 
 I owe my thanks to Professor Ramsay of the 
 University of Cilasgow for kindly consenting to help 
 this book into the world by some introductory 
 remarks ; but I must not claim the shelter of his 
 name for the defects of the translations, since 
 many of them were already printed before I had 
 the benefit of a criticism which, could I have
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 availed myself of it throughout, would have been 
 
 invaluable. I have indeed many friends to thank 
 
 for kind encouragement and helpful suggestions, and 
 
 among them cannot refrain from naming the Rev. 
 
 S. A. Y. Thompson Yates, Mr. H. H. House, and, 
 
 last, not least, the Rev. J. Bedford, of Stanmore, 
 
 to whom 
 
 Menior 
 
 Adae non alio rege puertiae, 
 I here express my obligation for his kind and 
 careful revision of my proofs. 
 
 A. S. AGLEN. 
 
 Alyth, December i,th, 1895.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 I FEEL proud to have been asked to add a few 
 words of introduction to this volume. Generation 
 after generation pronounces the Odes of Horace to 
 be untranslatable : yet each girds itself anew to the 
 attempt. Every phase and stage of our advancing 
 civilization claims Horace for its own ; each seeks 
 to bring itself into line with the common senti- 
 ment of humanity by discovering in his imperishable 
 phrases an expression of its own thoughts and 
 feelings. 
 
 The range of his vision was not wide, nor his 
 penetration deep ; he had not the gift of the higher 
 imagination. But perhaps all the more for that 
 very reason — just because he confined himself so 
 strictly to the range of average human emotion — he 
 has exercised a unique influence over the cultivated, 
 and even uncultivated, minds of the modern world. 
 The young and the old : men of letters, men 
 of affairs, men of pleasure : all alike have been
 
 X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 attracted by his good sense, his good feeling, and 
 good taste ; have felt the charm of his verse, and 
 admired its exquisite artistic workmanship ; have 
 been fascinated by the matchless skill with which 
 he probes the ordinary motives of mankind, and 
 crystallizes his views of life into flawless gems of 
 speech. 
 
 As a life-long lover of Horace ; as one who has 
 found in him an unrivalled master for awakening 
 in young minds a sense of what is pure in style, 
 of what is good, what bad, in literary form, I 
 rejoice that the task of interpreting him to this 
 fin de siecle should have been undertaken by one 
 who is so fine a scholar as Archdeacon Aglen, and 
 so completely steeped in the spirit of all that is 
 best in our own literature. 
 
 G. G. RAMSAY. 
 
 University of Glasgow, 
 November 22nd, 1895.
 
 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 I. 
 
 Maecenas atavis. 
 
 Maecenas, ancient monarchs'' son, 
 My glory and my strength in one ! 
 Some among men their wish attain, 
 If dust of the Olympic plain 
 Gather round chariot-wheels that burn. 
 So fast, so close they take the turn, 
 And the proud prize once captured they 
 Mount to the Gods whom worlds obey. 
 
 This man is blest if thrice allowed 
 To office by Rome's fickle crowd ; 
 That if in his own barn he stores 
 The wealth of Libyan threshing-floors. 
 
 ^"I am the son of ancient kings." — Isaiah xix. ii. 
 
 A
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Not Attains could bribe the swain 
 Content to hoe his sire's domain, 
 As seaman Cyprian bark to steer, 
 And plough Myrtoan waves in fear. 
 
 Fresh from the Afric gales that fight 
 Icarian waves, and fresh from fright, 
 The merchant to his country seat 
 Retires, and praises his retreat ; 
 But loth to learn a poor man's cares, 
 His battered ships he soon repairs. 
 
 Some for their wine — old Massic say — 
 Will steal an hour from working day, 
 Stretch'd where green arbute branches spread, 
 Or at some sacred fountain-head. 
 
 Many love wars, which mothers all 
 Detest, the camp, the bugle-call. 
 And blare of trumpet. Sportsmen stay 
 'Neath frosty skies from eve to day. 
 Nor thought for tender wife can spare, 
 If the good hound a doe but scare. 
 Or Marsian boar burst corded snare. 
 
 My heaven is this, to crown my brow 
 With learning's meed, the ivy bough ; 
 And find from men a cool retreat, 
 A grove where nymphs with satyrs meet 
 And lightly dance, on Lesbian lyre 
 If Polyhymnia strike the wire, 
 Nor of her flute Euterpe tire ;
 
 ODES I. u.] MAECENAS ATAVIS. 
 
 Then style me Lyric Bard, and I 
 With head aloft shall strike the sky. 
 
 II. 
 
 Ja7n satis. 
 
 Dire hail and snow enough the Sire 
 Has sent our land, and red with fire. 
 His right hand, blasting fane and spire, 
 Has frightened Rome; 
 
 Has frightened earth, lest come once more 
 Sights strange as Pyrrha did deplore, 
 When Proteus drove his herds where o'er 
 Hill-tops they clomb, 
 
 And on the top of elms would rest 
 The finny tribe, where doves should nest. 
 While timid hinds an ocean breast, 
 A flooded plain. 
 
 We saw old Tiber's tawny tide 
 In mad recoil from Tuscan side 
 Surge back to wreck the Monarch's pride, 
 And Vesta's fane. 
 
 Such long complaint his Ilia made. 
 He vowed revenge, broke bounds, and strayed 
 O'er his left bank, though Jove forbade, — 
 Fond river-swain !
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Of brands made sharp for civil fray, 
 Which better Persian foes might slay, 
 Our youths will hear ; but few are they — 
 
 Their parents' sin ! 
 What God a tottering nation's prayer 
 Will hear? Must holy maids, howe'er 
 They sing to Vesta, not despair 
 
 Her ear to win ? 
 To whom will Jove the part allow 
 Of expiator? Now, O now, 
 Thy shoulders bright cloud-veiled, come Thou, 
 
 Apollo, Seer ! 
 Or Erycina smiles may bring. 
 With jocund Loves round fluttering; 
 Or Mars one glance of pity fling 
 On sons once dear ! 
 The war-game even Thee must sate. 
 Whom shouts and glancing helms elate. 
 And Marsian soldier's look of hate 
 On blood-stained foe. 
 Or if, mild Maia's winged son. 
 Thou, in chang'd semblance, dost not shun 
 The name of Caesar's champion. 
 Wait Youth below ; 
 Return not soon to heaven, but stay 
 Awhile with Romans, glad as they. 
 Nor speed on too quick breeze away 
 To flee our stain ;
 
 ODES II. III.] JAM SATIS. 5 
 
 Choose triumphs here ; here styled, with pride, 
 Our prince, our father, long preside, 
 Nor shall the Mede unpunished ride 
 If Caesar reign. 
 
 III. 
 
 Sic te diva. 
 
 The Cyprian Queen divine 
 Direct thy course, and Helen's brothers bright 
 
 Lend thee their starry light, 
 And the winds' Father all his brood confine 
 
 Save Zephyr, so thou pay 
 Virgil, thy debt, O ship, to Attic shore ! 
 
 Protect him, I implore. 
 And safe this half of mine own life convey ! 
 
 Heart of oak and triple fold 
 Of brass engirt his bosom bold, 
 Who first to ocean's ruthless might 
 Trusted a bark, thing frail and slight ; 
 Nor at the war of winds did quail, 
 Though southern blast met northern gale ; 
 Nor feared the gloomy Hyades, 
 Nor maddened Notus, — lord of seas, 
 Since Hadria knows no stronger will 
 To lift her waves, or bid be still.
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book k 
 
 Could death's approach in any guise 
 Fright him who saw with tearless eyes 
 Sea-monsters swim the turgid deep, 
 Saw cursed Acroceraunian steep? 
 With caution wise, but caution vain, 
 Jove interposed the sundering main 
 'Twixt land and land, if, spite decree, 
 Ships impious leap the barrier sea. 
 Bold to dare al], the human race, 
 To sin forbidden, sins apace. 
 Bold was the son of Japhet when 
 Unhappy fraud brought fire to men. 
 From its ethereal home the flame 
 He stole, and wasting sickness came : 
 New fevers, an invading troop. 
 Began upon the earth to swoop, 
 And death, the doom to man decreed. 
 Once far and slow, now quickened speed. 
 Men have no wings to float in air, 
 Yet Daedalus that feat did dare : 
 To burst the bars of Acheron 
 Asks toil ; by Hercules 'twas done. 
 Nothing there is so hard or high. 
 But men will do it or will try, 
 Our folly e'en would scale the sky; 
 Nor may Jove, by our sins defied, 
 His angry thunders lay aside.
 
 ODES III. IV.] SOLVITUR ACRIS HIEMS. 7 
 
 IV. 
 
 Solvitur acris hiems. 
 
 Grateful change the zephyrs bring, winter's chain is 
 loosed by spring, 
 And the ships laid high and dry are dragged 
 again to sea ; 
 Now the flocks forsake the byre, and the ploughman 
 leaves the fire, 
 And no longer in the morning is there hoar frost 
 on the lea. 
 'Neath the moon's bright countenance Cytherea leads 
 the dance, 
 While the nymphs are taking hands with the 
 Graces fair to view. 
 Then with graceful rhythmic feet, they the ground 
 in cadence beat, 
 While fierce Vulcan fires the workshops of his 
 monstrous Cyclop crew. 
 Twine now each shining head with green myri ,, or 
 instead. 
 With such flowers as earth, released from her 
 wintry prison, bears, 
 And in the woodland shade let a sacrifice be made 
 To our Faunus, of a lamb, or a goat if he prefers. 
 Pallid Death's impartial feet at the poor man's hovel 
 beat,
 
 8 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 And the rich man's lordly tower. Oh my Sestius, 
 thought so blest, 
 Lengthened hope to entertain is forbidden, for in 
 vain 
 We look forward in a life-time, which is but short 
 at best. 
 Soon the weight of night must fall on your spirit, 
 and the hall, 
 The narrow hall of Pluto, hold you fast with 
 fabled shades ; 
 There the dice will not assign the kingship of the 
 wine, 
 And your friend you must abandon to the care 
 of loving maids. 
 
 V, 
 
 Quis multa gracilis. 
 
 What slender youth with liquid scents bedew'd 
 Is courting you on roses thickly strew'd, 
 
 Pyrrha, in pleasant grot? 
 For whom twist you that golden hair in knot 
 
 So charming-simple ? Ah ! how oft he'll weep 
 For heaven's changed looks, the troth you would 
 not keep,
 
 ODESiv.-V].] C^UIS MULTA GRACILIS. 9 
 
 And wonder, slow to learn, 
 How rough in murky winds Love's sea can turn. 
 
 Now, lapped in golden joys, he fondly sees 
 You always pleasing, always free to please; 
 
 Poor fool ! he little knows 
 The fickle breeze that now so softly blows. 
 
 The wretch is lost on whom you smile untried ; 
 My votive tablet on that wall, inside 
 
 The mighty Sea-God's shrine, 
 Shows where I've hung my garments dripping brine. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Scriberis Vario. 
 
 Let Varius, whose Maeonian wing 
 
 Such flights can dare, thy prowess tell. 
 
 And of thy frequent triumphs sing. 
 
 Chief of the band that fought so well ; 
 
 What feats by land, what feats by sea, 
 
 That band achieved when led by thee ! 
 
 But I, Agrippa, on my lyre 
 
 Dare not attempt such lofty themes; 
 Achilles, staunch, but fierce and dire ; 
 
 Or that sea-rover with his schemes,
 
 10 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Ulysses ; Pelops' cruel hall ; 
 
 Small men grand deeds may not recall. 
 
 My lyre obeys a peaceful Muse, 
 
 She lets no war-song thrill its string; 
 
 And I from dififidence refuse 
 
 Illustrious Caesar's praise to sing, 
 
 Or thine ; thy deeds might suffer wrong, 
 
 From some defect within the song. 
 
 Where is the worthy pen to write 
 
 Of Mars in adamantine mail? 
 Meriones from Trojan fight 
 
 Dust-blackened? or to tell the tale 
 Of Diomed, by Pallas' aid 
 A match for Gods in battle made? 
 
 Of feasts I love to sing, or war — 
 If war at all— that lovers wage. 
 
 Where sharpened nails the weapons are. 
 And youths are met by maidens' rage; 
 
 I'm fancy-free one day, one day 
 
 On fire with love, but always gay.
 
 ODES VI. VII.] LAUDABUNT ALII. ji 
 
 VII. 
 
 Laudabunt alii. 
 
 Sunny Rhodes and Mitylene, let some other tell 
 their merits, 
 Praise Ephesus and Corinth with her walls from 
 sea to sea; 
 The Bacchic Thebes, and Delphi which Apollo's 
 fame inherits, 
 And the vale of Tempe, fairest of the vales of 
 Thessaly. 
 There are some who have one passion, in music 
 ever-flowing, 
 All their life to sing the praises of the maiden- 
 Goddess' town, 
 Or to search the wide world over where the olive 
 may be growing. 
 That its leaves upon their forehead may be woven 
 as a crown. 
 In Juno's honour many will delight to tell the story 
 Of Argos good for horses, or Mycenae famed for 
 gold; 
 But for me not Lacedaemon, whose endurance is 
 her glory, 
 Nor Larissa's fertile meadows on my fancy took 
 a hold
 
 12 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Like the spot wherein Albunea the voiceful has her 
 dwelling, 
 'Mid the sound of falling waters as the Anio 
 takes her leap, 
 Tibur's woodlands and her orchards where the moist 
 leaves still are telling 
 How the streamlets move among them, after 
 falling from the steep. 
 There are times when even Notus a beclouded sky 
 will brighten, 
 For, though of showers prolific, he not always 
 brings the rain ; 
 So my Plancus, it were wisdom with a mellow 
 draught to lighten 
 A life's laborious trouble, and a grief's protracted 
 pain. 
 Whether duty now detains you, where the martial 
 standards glisten, 
 Or you're bound for home and Tibur, where your 
 trees their shadows spread. 
 Teucer — to the tale of Teucer, it were well for you 
 to listen ; — 
 When from father and from Salamis, his island 
 home, he fled. 
 Round his brows a poplar garland — they were wet 
 with deep potations — 
 As he fastened, he addressed him to each sad 
 and weary friend,
 
 ODES VII. VIII.] LAUDABUNT ALII. 13 
 
 " Wheresoever Fortune leads us — she is kinder than 
 relations — 
 ^Ve will go, my trusty comrades, we will follow 
 to the end. 
 Why despair? 'Tis Teucer leads you, Teucer's 
 fortunes that you follow, 
 There's a new world all before us, let us leave 
 the world behind ; 
 From the God I have a promise, it is safe to trust 
 Apollo, 
 We have lost the ancient Salamis, another we 
 shall find. 
 O my friends, my gallant comrades, vve have fought 
 through stormier weather ! 
 How often by my side have ye quit yourselves 
 like men ! 
 Drink and drown the present troubles, let us drain 
 one cup together, 
 And to-morrow venture forward on the great sea 
 once again ! " 
 
 VIII. 
 Lydia, die, per omnes. 
 
 By all the Gods above 
 I do beseech you, Lydia, tell me this. 
 
 Why you on Sybaris 
 Are eager to bring ruin by your love?
 
 14 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Why now the sunny mead 
 Detests he, patient once of dust and sun? 
 
 Why does he riding shun 
 With his compeers, nor curbs his Gallic steed ? 
 
 Why touch of yellow flood 
 Of Tiber does he dread, and why recoil 
 
 From use of olive oil. 
 More cautiously than if 'twere viper's blood? 
 
 Why lets he idle rest 
 Those wrists the cestus bruised so black and blue, 
 
 Who quoit or javelin threw 
 Across the mark, a champion confest? 
 
 Why lurks he, as they tell 
 Nymph Thetis' son on eve of Troy's sad day 
 
 Lurked, lest his man's array 
 To rush on death 'mid Lycian bands impel? 
 
 IX. 
 
 Vides, lit alia. 
 
 Look at Soracte standing there 
 So white, so deep in snow ! 
 
 Look how the branches strain to bear 
 The weight that bends them low !
 
 ODES VIII. IX.] VIDES, UT ALTA. 15 
 
 The frost "bites shrewdly,"^ and with force 
 To stay the downward rivers' course. 
 
 Go thaw the cold by piUng up 
 
 Fresh logs to burn, and pour 
 From out the two-eared Sabine cup, 
 
 More freely than before ; 
 The wine is four years old, and may 
 Be largely, Thaliarch, quaff'd to-day. 
 
 Leave to the Gods all else ! When they 
 
 The winds have laid to sleep, 
 And calmed the fury of the fray 
 
 Upon the boiling deep, 
 No more the ancient ash will rock. 
 The cypress own the tempest's shock. 
 
 To-morrow's fate ask not to know ! 
 
 Each day's a gain from chance ; 
 Then be content, and count it so, 
 
 And give it to the dance; 
 With dance and love the hours employ, 
 Nor scorn the pleasures of a boy. 
 
 For youth's fresh bloom will turn to grey ; 
 
 And age is hard to please ; 
 The wrestling-ground, the field for play, 
 
 Now is the time for these ; 
 
 '"The air bites shrewdly: it is very cold." — Hamlet.
 
 J 5 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Now as eve falls, let whisper sweet 
 Oft tell how lovers planned to meet. 
 
 Now try from secret nook to catch 
 
 The laugh that will betray 
 Some sweet girl, hiding till you snatch 
 
 A pledge of love away, 
 From arm, or finger which pretends 
 To grudge the ring it ill defends. 
 
 X. 
 
 Mercuri, facnnde. 
 
 Grandson of Atlas, eloquent 
 
 Mercurius, thou whose craft and skill 
 To early man sweet manners lent, 
 
 By song and athlete's graceful drill ! 
 
 Heaven's herald and great Jove's I sing. 
 Who gave the rounded lyre its birth. 
 
 Who, if he wants to steal a thing, 
 Will steal it— in the way of mirth. 
 
 What threats Apollo used to fright 
 
 The little thief! He stormed "Restore 
 
 My cows— or else"— then laughed outright, 
 Robbed of his quiver, robbed once more.
 
 ODESix.-xi.] MERCURI, FACUNDE. 17 
 
 Wert tliou not wealthy Priam's guide, 
 Who past the proud Atridae crept 
 
 From Troy, though fires on every side 
 Show'd where ThessaHan foemen slept ? 
 
 Just souls to seats of bliss apart 
 
 Thou lead'st, and ghosts obedient know 
 
 Thy golden rod, and dear thou art 
 To Gods above and Gods below. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Tn ne quaesieris. 
 
 ask not, for 'tis wrong to know 
 
 what date of death for you and me 
 The gods have fixed : have naught to do 
 
 with Babylon's astrology. 
 But take, Leuconoe — 'tis best — 
 
 whatever Jupiter ordain, 
 More winters yet, or this the last 
 
 that drains the strength from Tuscan main 
 Ujion the rugged headlands breaking. 
 
 Wisely pour your wine, nor plan 
 For aught beyond the curtailed hope, 
 
 that suits the brevity of man.
 
 i8 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 We talk, and as we talk, unkind 
 
 the moment will have sped away; 
 
 Then count not, count not on to-morrow, 
 but mistrustful, snatch to-day. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Quern virum aut heroa. 
 
 What man, what hero dost incline 
 On piercing flute or lyre to praise, 
 
 Clio? or is the theme Divine? 
 
 Whose name will Echo, when she plays. 
 
 From Helicon's dark sides repeat? 
 
 From Pindus' crest? from Haemus' cold? 
 Whence following Orpheus' voice so sweet, 
 
 The woods at random streamed of old. 
 
 He by his mother's art delayed 
 
 The streams that flowed, the winds that sped; 
 His tuneful strings such music made, 
 
 Oaks heard, and followed where he led. 
 
 Whose praise but His whom men agree 
 To praise, the Parent's,^ claims my lay, 
 
 ^ Reading " parentis."
 
 ODES XI. XII.] QUEM VIRU.M AUT IIEROA. 19 
 
 Whom gods and men, and earth and sea, 
 And changing seasons, all obey? 
 
 From Him no greater can proceed, 
 
 No match, no equal in degree ; 
 Yet o'er all else one claims the meed, 
 
 And Pallas, bold in fight, is she. 
 
 Liber shall not my silence blame. 
 
 The wild beasts' foe, the huntress maid. 
 
 Nor Phoebus of the deadly aim. 
 
 Who shoots, and all men are afraid. 
 
 Alcides too, and Leda's twins 
 
 I'll sing, of whom the one with blows. 
 
 With steeds the other, always wins: 
 Whose star no sooner brightly shows 
 
 To seamen than subsides the deep, 
 Nor longer beats a rocky shore ; 
 
 Winds drop, clouds melt, and billows sleep, — 
 For 'tis Their will — nor threaten more. 
 
 But after these I hesitate; — 
 
 Shall Romulus, king Numa's time. 
 
 So peaceful, Tarquin's haughty state 
 Be sung, or Cato's end sublime?
 
 20 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Make Regulus renowned, my lay ! 
 
 The Scauri ; him who greatly threw 
 His life in Punic fight away, 
 
 And threw in vain ; Fabric! us too ; 
 
 Him, Curius, with the unkempt hair ; 
 
 Camillus ; — soldiers good and true ; 
 These the ancestral farm could bear. 
 
 And cottage where they hardship knew. 
 
 As grows unseen the tree, so grows 
 Marcellus' fame ; more bright than are 
 
 All other lights the Julian shows, 
 A moon 'mid many a lesser star. 
 
 Parent and guardian of mankind ! 
 
 Offspring of Saturn ! to maintain 
 Great Caesar, fate to thee assigned; 
 
 Thou first, and Caesar second, reign ! 
 
 Triumph he must ; or Latium free 
 
 From dread the Parthian march so far ; 
 
 Or force some Eastern bend the knee, 
 China or Ind, in righteous war ; 
 
 Then as thy just vicegerent stand 
 
 On earth; but thy great car shall shake 
 
 Olympus, and at thy command 
 
 On guilty groves the thunders break.
 
 ODES XII. XIII.] QUUM TU, LYDIA, TELEPHI. 21 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Qimm tu, Lydia, Telephi. 
 
 O Lydia, when you so admire 
 The rosy neck of Telephus, 
 The waxen arms of Telephus, 
 
 My jealous heart is all on fire ; 
 
 My bosom swells with rage and ire, 
 To hear you praise him thus. 
 
 Nay more, my reason quits her throne, 
 Its native hue forsakes my face. 
 Tears down my cheeks each other chase, 
 Although I'd hide them ere 'tis known 
 What slow fires eat into my bone. 
 How woful is my case. 
 
 It sets me all on fire to view 
 
 Those shoulders, with their snowy shine 
 All bruised in wrangle over wine, 
 Or those sweet lips, to which are due 
 Sweet kisses, bitten black and blue, 
 A rough boy's passion-sign. 
 
 Ah ! hear my words and take alarm, 
 Nor think the monster will abide 
 A constant lover at your side.
 
 22 
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Who such a gracious mouth could harm, 
 Which, with quintessence of her charm, 
 The Queen of love has dyed. 
 
 O happy, happy thrice and more. 
 
 Are they whom wedlock's fastest tie, 
 Has bound in lifelong constancy. 
 
 Whose love will no sad jars deplore, 
 
 Nor will dissolve itself before 
 The day they come to die. 
 
 XIV. 
 O Navis, referent. 
 
 O ship, new waves will rise to take 
 You back upon the main ; 
 
 What course is this? O haste to make 
 The port, the harbour gain ; 
 
 Your oars are torn away, your mast 
 
 Has gone before the Afric blast. 
 
 Ah ! see you not how sad your plight ? 
 
 Nor hear your cordage groan? 
 Quick ! ropes to make you watertight ! 
 
 Their added help alone 
 Can save your poor belaboured hull, 
 On seas now grown too masterful.
 
 ODES XI 1 1. -XV.] O NAVIS, REFERENT. 23 
 
 Your tattered sails ! what hope is there ? 
 
 Your Gods ! no Gods remain ; 
 Though new distress may urge the prayer, 
 
 To Gods you call in vain ; 
 Nor will it now avail your crew, 
 To boast the wood in which you grew, 
 
 To boast yourself a Pontic pine, 
 
 A tree of name and mark ; 
 For not because its colours shine. 
 
 Do sailors trust their bark 
 In time of fear. Take care, or find 
 You owe a plaything to the wind. 
 
 O ship ! O trouble ! and of late 
 
 A trouble sore to bear, 
 Still on my yearning heart a weight, 
 
 A heavy weight, of care ; 
 O keep from those too dangerous seas 
 That part the shining Cyclades ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 Pastor quuvi traheret. 
 
 While o'er the sea the treacherous shepherd took 
 His hostess Helen in Idaean bark.
 
 24 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 The rapid winds, in calm he ill could brook, 
 
 Were hushed, and Nereus bade him stay to hark 
 How he would chant his fortunes wild and dark. 
 
 " 111 bodes it for yourself, this bringing home 
 
 A bride whom Greece, with mighty bands, from 
 Troy 
 
 Will ask again, Greece leagued in arms to come 
 At once to interrupt your wedded joy. 
 
 And Priam's ancient kingdom to destroy. 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! what agony, what sweat, 
 
 When horse and man go down ! What graves you 
 make 
 For the Dardanian race ! See Pallas set 
 
 Her helm, upon her arm her aegis take, 
 Prepare her car and all her fury wake. 
 
 " False is the fire by Venus' aid supplied ; 
 
 In vain you comb your locks, and with the 
 lyre, 
 Th' unwarlike lyre, your ordered rhymes divide, 
 
 Those pretty rhymes that women folk admire ; 
 In vain into your chamber you retire. 
 
 " Not so will you escape the fatal darts ; 
 
 The points of Cretan javelins will not spare;
 
 ODK XV.] PASTOR QUUM TRAHERET. 25 
 
 Hark to the clamour ! Ajax, once he starts, 
 
 Is quick to follow, and, though late, your hair^ 
 Will be begrimed with dust, adulterer ! 
 
 " Do you not mark Ulysses, born the bane 
 Of all your nation ? Pylian Nestor too ? 
 
 And here come pressing on a fearless train, 
 Teucer the Salaminian, and that true 
 
 Soldier who knows the battle through and through, 
 
 " Who when there's need for driving, drives so well, 
 Of fighting, fights so well, brave Sthenelus ; 
 
 And Merion by his bearing you may tell ; 
 And there Tydides raging furious, 
 
 Is hunting you — his father fought not thus. 
 
 " Him you will tly from, as a stag that flies 
 A wolf, across the valley sudden spied ; 
 
 Forgetting now to graze, away he hies ; 
 So coward, you ; I see your panting side ; 
 
 Were these deep sobs your promise to your bride ? 
 
 " Troy's day may tarry, but arrive it must ; 
 
 Well may her matrons fear Achilles' fleet ; 
 Its wrath will hurl their city into dust; 
 
 A iQw short winters will the doom complete. 
 And Grecian fires will flame from street to street." 
 
 ^ Readiner " crines."
 
 26 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 xvr. 
 
 O Matre piilchra. 
 
 O daughter of a mother fair, 
 
 But fairer still than she, 
 My sland'rous verses do not spare. 
 
 But throw them in the sea, 
 Yes, into Hadria's waters throw, 
 Or burn them if you like it so. 
 
 Not Dindymene can excite, 
 
 Nor, in his Pythian cave, 
 Apollo urge with equal might 
 
 The heart of priest to rave ; 
 Nor Corybants such passion-heat 
 Into their clashing cymbals beat ; 
 
 Nor Bacchus madden, as does ire — 
 
 Sad ire, which once astir, 
 Nor Noric sword nor cruel tire 
 
 Can from its rage deter, 
 Nor, though it wrecks the ships, the main. 
 Nor Jove's loud thunder-rush and rain. 
 
 Prometheus, forced to add, they say, 
 From beasts of every kind,
 
 ODE XVI.] O MATRE PULCHRA. 27 
 
 A portion to our primal clay, 
 
 A lion chanced to find, 
 And from the wild beast carved a part, 
 Its fury, for the human heart. 
 
 Ask why Thyestes met so dire 
 
 A fate, why cities tall 
 Fell headlong to the ground ; 'twas ire — 
 
 Ire always cause of all. 
 'Twas ire the wanton foemen sent 
 To lay low tower and battlement, 
 
 And plough them into ruins. So 
 'Twere well your rage to bind. 
 
 What passion is I also know, 
 And how it fires the mind ; 
 
 In youth, and oh ! my youth was sweet, 
 
 It drove me forth in rage and heat 
 
 To swift iambic verse ; but now 
 
 I would the wrong undo. 
 And change from harsh to mild, if thou 
 
 Would'st be forgiving too. 
 When I recant the words that pain, 
 And give me back thine heart again.
 
 28 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Velox amoenufii. 
 
 Fleet Faunus, who will often roam, 
 
 Lycaeus leaves to make 
 Pleasant Lucretilis his home, 
 
 And for my she-goats' sake, 
 Keep ever from the healthful plain 
 Fierce heats, and storms of wind and rain. 
 
 Safe are the woods for them to stray. 
 
 To hunt for thymy bank 
 And arbute, picking out a way 
 
 Beside their lords so rank. 
 Green-coated adders will not harm, 
 Nor fierce Haedilian ^ wolves alarm, 
 
 Whenever, Tyndaris, we take 
 
 The pipe, till with its strain 
 Ustica's sleeping valleys wake, 
 
 Its smooth rocks ring again ; 
 The gods protect me, for they guard. 
 As dear to Heaven, the pious bard. 
 
 If country pleasures you desire, 
 Here in full stream they flow, 
 
 1 Reading "Haediliae."
 
 ODE XVII.] VELOX AMOEXUM. 29 
 
 As from kind plenty's horn ; the fire 
 
 Of dog-days' noontide glow, 
 Will spare you while on Teian string 
 In sheltered nooks you play and sing. 
 
 Here^ of Penelope you'll tell, 
 
 And Circe's crystal glance, 
 And how both loved Ulysses well, 
 
 Victims of one mischance ; 
 And in the shade as you recline. 
 You'll drain a cup of Lesbian wine. 
 
 No dangers in this goblet hide. 
 We drink as friends, not foes ; 
 
 Mars will not sit at Bacchus' side, 
 To make us come to blows ; 
 
 Nor need you fear that Cyrus' eye 
 
 Will here glare fierce with jealousy. 
 
 His hands are rude, and you no match 
 For these ; but have no dread ; 
 
 He shall not from your tresses snatch 
 The crown that decks your head ; 
 
 Nor shall the saucy fellow tear — 
 
 It harms him not — the robe you wear. 
 
 1 Readinsr "hie."
 
 30 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Nullam, Vare, sacra. 
 
 Varus, first of all your planting see you plant the 
 
 sacred vine 
 Where the walls of Catilus and Tibur crown a soil 
 
 benign. 
 Dry abstainers — God has willed it — find the world 
 
 a scene of woe, 
 Nor will gnawing sorrows fly before the wine begins 
 
 to flow. 
 Who, when wine has done its duty, cares to croak 
 
 of empty purse 
 And the hard lot of a soldier ? No ! of thee will 
 
 we converse, 
 Father Bacchus, and of thee, O Venus, in thy love- 
 liness ! 
 But beware ! Use Liber's gifts in moderation, not 
 
 excess ! 
 Mark the warning in the wine-cup which the deadly 
 
 quarrels made 
 'Twixt the Lapithae and Centaurs ; in the hand so 
 
 heavy laid 
 By the wine-god on the Thracians, till their lusts 
 
 alone define, 
 Right and wrong as they desire it, by those same 
 
 lusts' slender line.
 
 ODES xviii. XIX.] NULLAM, VARE, SACRA. 31 
 
 Thee, O shining Bassareus, I will not, till thou 
 
 please, excite, 
 Nor thy woodland secrets will I drag into the open 
 
 light. 
 Silence now the savage cymbals, silence Berecynthian 
 
 horn, 
 Else blind self-esteem will follow, and vainglory will 
 
 be born, 
 Empty-headed, too aspiring ; and, what once was 
 
 honour true, 
 Now will blab her secrets — glass, or worse than 
 
 glass, for showing through. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Mater saeva Cupidiiiuin. 
 
 The cruel Dame whom Cupids call 
 
 Their mother, and the son 
 Of Theban Semele, though all 
 
 My loves, I thought, were done, 
 Have joined with my own lawless vein, 
 To make me fall in love again. 
 
 For Glycera has lit a flame ; 
 
 Her beauty, shining fair, 
 The Parian marble puts to shame ; 
 
 Her sweet but saucy air
 
 32 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Inflames me, and I'm dazzled quite 
 By looks too dangerously bright. 
 
 Venus has left her Cyprian bovver, 
 
 On my one heart to fling 
 Herself, herself in all her power, 
 
 Nor leaves me free to sing 
 Of Scyths, and how the Parthians wheel 
 Their horses, and fresh courage feel ; 
 
 Nor aught but love. Then lay me down 
 
 A fresh-cut turf, and twine 
 Sweet boughs, and incense bring, and crown 
 
 A bowl of last year's wine ; 
 The Queen will come in gentler guise, 
 If for her sake a victim dies. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Vile potabis. 
 
 'Tis Sabine you will have to drink. 
 From cups both plain and small ; 
 
 Poor stuft", the wine, you well may think ; 
 But then I sealed it all 
 
 In its Greek jar, the very year 
 
 They cheered you in the theatre.
 
 ODES xix-xxi.] VILE POTABIS. 33 
 
 The river to your fathers dear 
 
 Returned that glad acclaim ; 
 From either bank we seemed to hear. 
 
 Thrown back in play, your name ; 
 " Maecenas Eques," so they ran, 
 The echoes of the Vatican. 
 
 A wine the Cales vats produce. 
 
 There is ; and Caecuban ; 
 These you shall drink of if you choose, 
 
 But not Falernian ; 
 No wine so choice my cups may fill, 
 Nor such as grows on Formian hill. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Dianam tenerae. 
 
 Ye tender maids, Diana sing ; 
 
 Ye boys, the beardless Phoebus praise; 
 
 From both Latona claims her lays — 
 Latona dear to Jove the King. 
 
 Praise you the maid who loves each rill, 
 Each tress in woods that darkly frown 
 On Erymanthus, or that crown 
 
 Cold Algidus, and Cragus hill.
 
 34 
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Laud Tempe, you, in equal choir, 
 And Delos whence Apollo sprung, 
 His shoulder with the quiver hung, 
 
 And glorious with his brother's lyre. 
 
 For tearful war he'll keep away, 
 
 And famine dire, and plague, from Rome 
 And Caesar, and will chase them home 
 
 To Made and Briton, if you pray. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Integer vitae. 
 
 The man of flawless life and clear, 
 Need take no Moorish bow or spear; 
 Fuscus, nor shafts with poison smear 
 To fill his quiver. 
 
 Whether where Syrtes rage he goes. 
 Where Caucasus harsh welcome shows, 
 Or where Hydaspes gently flows, 
 A fabled river. 
 
 For once, as in a Sabine glade 
 In careless mood, unarmed, I made 
 Rhymes on my Lalage and strayed, 
 A wolf fled daunted.
 
 ODES XXI. -XXIII.] INTEGER VITAE. 35 
 
 Not Daunias, nurse of soldier deeds, 
 In her oak woods such monster feeds, 
 Nor Juba's arid desert breeds, 
 
 Though Hon- haunted, — 
 
 Place me where never tree can grow, 
 Where no sweet airs of summer blow, 
 An ice-bound world of mist and snow; 
 Or place, where over 
 
 A homeless waste draws all too near 
 The sun-car, Lalage e'en here. 
 With smile, with voice, both sweet, were dear. 
 And I should love her. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Vitas hinnuleo. 
 
 You shun me, Chloe, like a fawn that goes 
 Seeking its timid dam 'mid pathless hills, 
 
 And all the wood, and every breeze that blows, 
 With vague alarms the little creature fills. 
 
 For should Spring's herald breezes only make. 
 When leaves hang light, a shiver in the trees. 
 
 Or should an emerald lizard stir the brake. 
 It trembles, trembles both in heart and knees.
 
 ^6 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Yet I am no fierce tiger to pursue 
 
 And tear, or lion in Gaetulia bred ; 
 Leave your dam's side ; 'tis now no place for you, 
 
 And take a husband, for 'tis time, instead. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Qiiis desiderio. 
 
 For one so dear, who thinks regret 
 Is shame, or endless sorrow long? 
 Be thou the Mistress of our song, 
 
 And our laments to music set, 
 
 Melpomene, to whom the Sire 
 
 Made gift of liquid voice and lyre. 
 
 What ! endless sleep, perpetual night 
 O'erwhelm Quintilius ! nay in sooth ! 
 Ask Reverence and unvarnished Truth, 
 
 And those two sister virtues, Right 
 
 And Honour, all unstained and clear. 
 
 If they will ever find his peer. 
 
 Not few the good who mourn him dead I 
 Thy grief, Virgilius, more than theirs I 
 But all in vain the pious prayers 
 
 By pious lips so duly said !
 
 ODES xxiii.-xxvi.] QUIS DESIDERIO. 37 
 
 He was no loan to Heaven : 'tis vain 
 To ask him of the Gods again. 
 
 What if the magic of thy string 
 
 Were more than his of Thrace, who stirred 
 The waiting woodlands when they heard? 
 
 Thy charming would not backward bring 
 
 The stream of life to that wan shade, — 
 
 Mercurius' wand must be obeyed. 
 
 In vain to those stern ears you pray ! 
 
 Prayer will not fate's closed doors unlock : 
 Once driven within the grisly flock 
 
 By that dread wand, thy friend must stay. 
 
 'Tis hard. But patience \ — To endure 
 
 Will lighten ills we may not cure. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Musis amicus. 
 
 Since to the Muses I am dear, 
 I well may give all grief and fear 
 Unto the wanton winds to bear 
 Into the Cretan Sea, 
 
 The tyrant of the North, I'm told, 
 Spreads terror from his frozen hold, 
 And cows e'en Tiridates bold, 
 But what is that to me?
 
 38 
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book u 
 
 O lover of the founts that spring 
 Untainted, flowers, thy sunniest, bring 
 And twine, Pimplea, while I sing, 
 Oh twine my Lamia's crown. 
 
 Unite with thy sweet sister choir 
 To praise him on the Lesbian lyre, 
 Not else may maiden string aspire 
 To add to his renown. 
 
 XXVI L 
 
 Natis in usum. 
 
 For joy the wine-cup had its birth, 
 
 But o'er it Thracians fight; 
 A barbarous custom ! — from your mirth 
 
 Dismiss it ! use aright 
 The wine-god's gifts, and brawling shun, 
 'Twill lead to bloodshed ere 'tis done. 
 
 The Median scimitar but ill 
 Suits wine and lighted hall ! 
 
 Peace, let this wicked din be still, 
 Propped on your elbows all. 
 
 You must be quiet, friends, if 1 
 
 Your strong Falernian am to try;
 
 ODES XXVI. XXVII.] NATIS IN USUM. 39 
 
 For it is heady. And I make 
 
 Conditions ; for I pray 
 Megilla's brother here to take 
 
 A confidant, and say 
 What wound is this has made him blest, 
 What deadly dart has pierced his breast? 
 
 You do not like? My terms I've named, 
 
 Before I drink, comply ! 
 Come, man, you need not be ashamed ; 
 
 Whate'er your passion, I 
 Am sure a free-born girl inspires 
 Your love ; you burn with honest fires. 
 
 Come tell me ; I'll not blab ; my ears 
 Are safe 1 What ! fallen to this ? 
 
 Poor boy ! how hard your case appears : 
 Charybdis? that abyss? 
 
 Entangled all the while in shame. 
 
 When worthy of a better flame ! 
 
 What witch, what mage, can pull you out 
 
 With charms of Thessaly ? 
 Nay, did a god appear, I doubt 
 
 If he could set you free ; 
 The triple-formed Chimaera's prey, 
 Scarce Pegasus will drag away.
 
 40 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 Te maris. 
 
 SAILOR. 
 
 Sea and land to measure, countless sands to weigh, 
 Such an art was thine, Archytas, in thy day ; 
 Now of dust a handful, by the Matine shore, 
 Hides both art and thee, a handful and no more. 
 Quest 'mid homes of air, soul-voyage through the 
 
 sky, 
 What did they avail Archytas doomed to die? 
 E'en the sire of Pelops, though a welcome guest 
 At the high Gods' banquets, perished with the rest ; 
 Perished too Tithonus, though conveyed above; 
 Minos, though admitted to the confidence of Jove ; 
 And the son of Panthus, — lo ! the world below 
 Holds him as in a prison \ twice he had to go 
 Down to gloomy Dis ; although at first he gave 
 Naught but nerves and skin to the darkness of 
 
 the grave, 
 And to prove this wonder that he saw Troy's day, 
 Down he took the shield, once his, and brought 
 
 away. 
 Was he least of Truth and Nature's prophets?- — say! 
 — Night awaiting all has darkened o'er his head ; 
 He has trod the path of death all feet must tread.
 
 ODE XXVIII.] TE MARIS. 41 
 
 ARCHYTAS. 
 
 Yes ! and some are doomed to glut Mars' savage 
 
 eyes ; 
 Sailors are by fate the greedy ocean's prize ; 
 Heaps on heaps of corpses, young and old they 
 
 lie, 
 Never yet was one stern Proserpine could fly. 
 Me the wind that speeds Orion's downward ride, 
 Plunged in watery death beneath th' Illyrian tide. 
 Sailor ! mark those limbs, and that unburied head ; 
 Grudge not grain of shifting sand to hide the dead ; 
 Then o'er Western waves, though raging Eastern 
 
 gale 
 Lash Venusia's woods, all safely may you sail, 
 And may Jove be kind as great, and profits pour, 
 While Tarentum's guardian, Neptune, makes them 
 
 more ! 
 What ! refuse ? and wrong your guiltless sons, as yet 
 All unborn ? Beware ! For fate will not forget 
 Dues that you must pay, and pride may have a 
 
 falli 
 Nor shall I in vain to Heaven for vengeance call ; 
 While all expiations fail for you — yes, all. 
 Short the service asked — three handfuls thrown of 
 
 dust : 
 Hasten then away, content, if haste you must.
 
 42 
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book k 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Icci^ beatis. 
 
 Arabia's boasted wealth ! can greed 
 Of this, my Iccius, fill you now, 
 Or have you vowed a martial vow, 
 To bind in chains the dreaded Mede, 
 Or fight till you as captive bring 
 Some yet unconquered Eastern king? 
 
 What ! will you have barbarian girls 
 Attend you, weeping for a swain, 
 Or husband, in your battles slain? 
 Shall some court page with scented curls 
 Quit his sire's bow, his archer's skill 
 With Seric shaft, your cup to fill? 
 
 Is this your wish? Then I for one 
 Will not deny that rivers may 
 Forsake at will their downward way, 
 
 And up their native mountains run ; 
 
 Or Tiber backward turn, if you 
 
 To your great promise prove untrue.
 
 ODES XXIX. -XXXI.] ICCI, BEATIS. 43 
 
 If you can leave your library, 
 
 Panaetius' noble books, your pride. 
 Bought with such sums from far and wide, 
 And from Socratic wisdom fly, 
 And all a Spanish mail to wear — 
 "O what a falling off were there" !^ 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Venus, regina. 
 
 Queen Love, thy Cnidos leave ! away 
 From Paphos and dear Cyprus ! stray 
 To Gycera's fair home ; repay 
 Her incense and her prayer. 
 
 The glowing Boy thy comrade be ! 
 Let nymphs and unzoned Graces three. 
 And Youth, ungenial wanting thee. 
 And Mercury hasten there. 
 
 XXXL 
 
 Quid dedicatiitn. 
 
 They dedicate Apollo's shrine : 
 The bard is here to pray ; 
 
 ^O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!"
 
 44 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 What asks he as the new-made wine 
 
 He pours from bowl to-day ? 
 Not rich Sardinia's fruitful fields, 
 Nor all the wealth their harvest yields, 
 
 Nor the fine herds Calabria's sky 
 
 Burns down on as they feed, 
 Nor gold, nor Indian ivory. 
 
 No ! nor the peaceful mead 
 The silent Liris eats away. 
 As on his quiet waters stray. 
 
 At Cales let them tend their vines. 
 Whom Fate gives vines to tend ; 
 
 Let the rich merchant drain his wines 
 From gold cups ; Heav'n's his friend. 
 
 Since thrice or more, each year, he braves 
 
 The terrors of Atlantic waves. 
 
 And if his stock of wines runs low, 
 
 A bargain makes it good. 
 Such gains from Syrian barter flow ; 
 
 But as for me, my food 
 Is olives, endive, or, at best. 
 The mallow easy to digest. 
 
 Enjoyment in such wealth to find 
 Latona's son, be mine;
 
 ODES XXXI. XXXII.] QUID DEDICATUM. 45 
 
 Healthy in body, sound in mind, 
 
 May I in years decline ; 
 Come age, but bring no base decay. 
 Nor take the minstrel's harp away ! 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Poscimur. Si quid. 
 
 We're wanted, lyre ! If in the shade 
 In vacant moments we have played, 
 Lend for a Latin song your aid, 
 To live a year or more. 
 
 A Lesbian was the first to bring, 
 A warrior, music from thy string, 
 And 'mid the clash of arms he'd sing, 
 Or, while on wave-washed shore 
 
 He moored his bark, he'd sing of wine, 
 Venus, her constant Boy, the Nine, 
 Or how the eyes of Lycus shine 
 So dark to match his hair. 
 
 Apollo's glory ! Jove's delight 
 When feasting ! O my sweet respite 
 From labour, when I pray aright, 
 O shell, attend my prayer.
 
 ^6, ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Albi, ne do leas. 
 
 To make you, Albius, cease this fretting, 
 These " dumps "^ and doleful elegies, 
 
 And try the merit of forgetting 
 
 Her who so much her name belies, 
 
 This Glycera, unsweet, untrue, 
 
 And for a younger lover too ; 
 
 Know that in love 'tis quite the fashion ; 
 
 Lycoris there, with forehead low, 
 She doats on Cyrus; he his passion 
 
 Has turned on Pholoe, although 
 He does not in his wooing find 
 The lady gentle, but unkind. 
 
 For wolves Apulian will be mated 
 With goats, ere she will for the sake 
 
 Of one with lawless pleasures sated. 
 Go wrong, and love a noted rake ; 
 
 So all goes by cross purposes, 
 
 And Venus is to blame for this. 
 
 ' " Sing no more ditties, sing no moe. 
 Of dumps so dull and heavy." 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing.
 
 ODES xxxiii. XXXIV.] ALBI, NE DOLEAS. 47 
 
 For she has come to this decision, 
 That when two persons she can find 
 
 Unlike in shape and disposition, 
 Those two she will together bind, 
 
 And send them 'neath her brazen yoke; — 
 
 'Tis cruel, but a cruel joke. 
 
 Myself here might have mated better ; 
 
 But Myrtale, so late a slave, 
 Has chained me in a silken fetter. 
 
 Though fiercer she than wildest wave 
 Of Hadria, when the raging deep 
 Scoops bays along Calabria's steep. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Parens deorum. 
 
 To heaven a niggard, I confess 
 
 The Gods I seldom heed. 
 In wisdom that is foolishness 
 
 To drift, my only creed ; 
 But now I must sail back perforce. 
 And try the old abandoned course ; 
 
 For Jove, whose fires are wont to fly, 
 In quivering flashes, through
 
 48 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 The cloud-racks of a darkened sky. 
 
 " A bolt from out the blue " 
 Shot forth, and through a cloudless heaven 
 His thundering steeds and car were driven. 
 
 The earth, though solid, shook to hear, 
 
 The streams forgot to flow, 
 And Styx, and Taenarus, that drear 
 
 And hateful seat below. 
 And Atlas to his furthest bound. 
 Were shaken by the dreadful sound. 
 
 Highest and lowest God can shift, 
 
 Can turn the grand to mean : 
 Things hidden into liglit can lift; 
 
 And with her grasp so keen. 
 And flap of wings, will Fortune wrest 
 From his for tliis man's head the crest. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 O Diva, grattun. 
 
 O Goddess, O fair Antium's queen, 
 Ready from lowest grade 
 
 Of human life to lift the mean, 
 Or make proud glory fade.
 
 ODES XXXIV. XXXV.] O DIVA, GRATUM. 49 
 
 Till from their height the haughty fall, 
 Their triumph turned to funeral, 
 
 Thee the poor farmer dares beset 
 
 With ever anxious prayer, 
 Bithynian sailors ne'er forget, 
 
 Carpathian seas who dare, 
 To hail thee mistress of the wave, 
 And favour for their vessels crave. 
 
 Thee the rough Dacian, rovers too 
 
 Of Scythia, hold in dread ; 
 Nations and towns the whole world through, 
 
 Fierce Latium at their head ; 
 Mothers of barbarous monarchs shake 
 With fear, and purple tyrants quake. 
 
 Lest, though each seem a pillar strong, 
 
 Thy fell foot hurl him low, 
 Lest from the city's gathering throng 
 
 The cry " To arms ! " should go ; 
 " To arms ! " till even laggards fight, 
 And rising crush the despot's might. 
 
 Before thee stalks stern Doom ; of brass 
 
 Her hand, that wedges grasps, 
 And spikes that through great beams can pass ; 
 
 Nor lacks the hook that clasps, 
 
 D
 
 50 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 And holds inexorably sure, 
 Nor liquid lead to make secure. 
 
 Thee Hope attends, and Honour rare, 
 
 A maid in snowy vest : 
 Nor will she from thy side repair, 
 
 Though thou, so late their guest, 
 Movest, as thy changed garments show. 
 No friend to lordly halls, but foe. 
 
 But in the herd no faith is found; 
 
 The harlot swears and flies ; 
 Friends, who are only friends around 
 
 The wine-cask, when it dries 
 Are gone ; 'twas false, their promise fair. 
 That they the yoke would always share. 
 
 Preserve our Caesar, bound for fight 
 
 In Britain, earth's extreme. 
 And that new swarm of youths, whose might 
 
 Will be a dread, we deem. 
 To tribes upon the Red Sea strand. 
 And regions of the Eastern land. 
 
 Alas ! the wounds ! alas ! the crime ! 
 
 O shame on brothers' strife ! 
 What wrong is strange to our fierce time ? 
 
 Unventured in our life?
 
 ODES XXXV. XXXVI.] O DIVA, GRATUM. 51 
 
 From what, through fear of God's just law. 
 Does youth of ours its hand withdraw? 
 
 What altar's spared ? O sacrilege ! 
 
 Oh, would on anvil new, 
 Thou'dst forge our weapons' blunted edge, 
 
 And make them keen and true, 
 Against the fierce Massagetae, 
 And the wild tribes of Araby ! 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Et thiire et fidibus. 
 
 Bring incense, and bring music too, 
 And let them now the bullock slay; 
 
 I like to give the gods their due. 
 The gods who guarded Numida; 
 
 For safe he comes, their care professed, 
 
 From that far country of the West. 
 
 And now 'mongst comrades, thick and fast, 
 He scatters greetings, in his joy; 
 
 To Lamia most of all; the past 
 Recalling, how the darling boy 
 
 With him at school his book had conn'd, 
 
 With him the manly dress had donn'd.
 
 52 
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 This day deserves a mark as fair, 
 As ever chalk for day impressed ; 
 
 Bring out the jar of wine, nor spare, 
 Nor let the graceful dancers rest, 
 
 Who in the Salian measure beat 
 
 The ground with never-tiring feet. 
 
 If Bassus, in the Thracian way, 
 
 Should challenge Damaris to try 
 Who takes the deepest draught, he may, 
 
 I trust, obtain the victory, 
 Although, where tippling is, 'tis known. 
 She's able well to hold her own. 
 
 Flowers must not fail our banquet hall. 
 Rose, short-lived lily, parsley green ; 
 
 But Damaris amid them all 
 
 Of melting eyes would still be queen ; 
 
 Not that she'll leave her lover new, 
 
 But cling like ivy strong and true. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Nunc est bibendum. 
 
 Now drink and dance, the time allows, 
 And deck the couch divine;
 
 ODES XXXVI. XXXVII.] NUNC EST BIBENDUM. 53 
 
 In Saliaric mode carouse, 
 
 And broach our grandsires' wine, 
 The Caecuban, 'twas wrong before 
 From the old bins to fetch and pour. 
 
 P'or Egypt's Queen her mad emprize 
 
 Was plotting in those days, 
 How amid Rome's death agonies 
 
 The Capitol to raze. 
 Urged on by her abandoned crew, 
 And hopes which no sane limits knew. 
 
 For, drunk with Fortune's giddy draught. 
 
 She let her fury burn, 
 Till from the fires a single craft 
 
 Scarce found a safe return ; 
 Then frenzy, Egypt's wine had bred, 
 Gave way to veritable dread. 
 
 For Caesar, swift as falcon's flight 
 
 The tender pigeons scare. 
 As huntsmen on Haemonia's height 
 
 Through snow might chase a hare, 
 Rowed hard the dangerous Queen to chain, 
 A monster fatal to his reign. 
 
 'to' 
 
 She fled from Italy to hail 
 A death might fame afford.
 
 24 ODES OF HORACE. [book i. 
 
 Her's was no woman's heart to quail 
 
 In terror at a sword ; 
 Nor, though her ships were swift, would she 
 To distant hiding-places flee. 
 
 With steadfast eye she dared to look 
 
 Where once her palace stood ; 
 The serpent in her hand she took, 
 
 Its poison in her blood ; 
 And spread a name through every land, 
 For daring, by the death she planned. 
 
 No fierce, Liburnian galley's crew, 
 
 She whispered in her pride. 
 Should bring her for all Rome to view, 
 
 Who once all Rome defied ; 
 " What ! be unqueened, and made a show 
 For Rome, in Caesar's triumph? No." 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Persicos odi. 
 
 Boy ! not for me this Persian state, 
 Your linden-woven crowns I hate ; 
 Care not to search if somewhere late. 
 There linger roses :
 
 ODES XXXVII. XXXVIII.] I'ERSICOS ODI. 55 
 
 Plain myrtle, only myrtle, twine ; 
 It suits you as you pour my wine, 
 Me, as I drink it, where a vine 
 My bower encloses.
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Motiim ex Metello. 
 
 Metellus' fatal consulate,— 
 
 What brought that evil time, — 
 The civil war that rent the state, — 
 
 Its every phase and crime, — 
 The freaks of fortune, men's intrigues. 
 And mischief sprung from chieftains' leagues, 
 
 From which our swords are reeking yet 
 With blood, which none appease ; — 
 
 The die is cast for those who set 
 Their hand to themes like these ; 
 
 Over still smouldering fires you tread ; 
 
 The treacherous ashes are not dead. 
 
 Let your stern Tragic Muse awhile 
 Be still and quit the stage;
 
 BOOK II. ODE I.] .MOTUM EX METELLO. cy 
 
 Our public annals now compile, 
 
 With history fill the page; 
 Then don the Attic sock once more, 
 And tragedy's high scenes explore. 
 
 The sad accused, my Pollio, turn 
 
 To your renown'd defence ; 
 The Senate will no cause decern, 
 
 AVithout your eloquence ; 
 Ne'er can your martial laurels die. 
 Won in Dalmatian victory. 
 
 E'en as we read, the trumpet blares, 
 
 The clarion loud replies, 
 The glint of flashing armour scares 
 
 The horse, and blinds the eyes 
 Of the dazed trooper as he rides. 
 And scarce his startled charger guides. 
 
 And hark ! great chieftains' battle-cries ! 
 
 I hear their challenge plain ; 
 The dust of battle on them lies ; 
 
 I see its glorious stain, 
 A sign of all the world subdued. 
 Save Cato and his stubborn mood. 
 
 For Juno, and the gods whose power, 
 When Libya claimed their aid,
 
 5 8 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 Had failed her in her direst hour, 
 
 And left her wrongs unpaid, 
 Now offered at Jugurtha's tomb, 
 His victors' grandsons in their room. 
 
 If blood can fatten earth, what plain 
 But teems through that we spilt 
 
 In wicked wars, whose graves remain 
 To witness to our guilt. 
 
 And still the dreadful sounds recall, 
 
 That told the Mede Italia's fall. 
 
 Each river-voice a sadder moan 
 
 Has borrow'd from our strife. 
 And every sea has crimson grown 
 
 From loss of Daunian life ; 
 And is there coast the wide world o'er 
 That has not tasted Latin gore? 
 
 to^ 
 
 But Muse ! why quit your sportive vein ? 
 
 Your tone so blithe and gay? 
 To Cean change the playful strain, 
 
 To dirge the roundelay? 
 No ! you in Venus' bower must sing, 
 And touch with lighter quill the string.
 
 ODES I. II.] NULLUS ARGENTO. 59 
 
 11. 
 
 Nullus ar^etito. 
 
 The silver hid in greedy mines 
 Lacks colour, Crispus, and inclines 
 Your soul to loathing, till it shines. 
 When used aright. 
 
 A father to his brothers ! — long 
 Shall fame bear up on wing of song 
 The name of Proculeius — strong 
 That plume for flight ! 
 
 To curb desire makes wide domain, 
 Wider than Libya joined to Spain, 
 Or if o'er Carthage you should reign, 
 Both Old and New. 
 
 Fell dropsy thirsts, and drinks to grow ; 
 To cure that thirst, its cause must go 
 From veins, pale body cease to show 
 A wat'ry hue. 
 
 On Cyrus' throne Phraates rest. 
 Styled happy by the vulgar test !
 
 6o ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 But Virtue from the list of blest 
 Thy name has razed ; 
 
 Correcting false esteem, a throne, 
 Safe crown, and bays she makes his own, 
 Who piles of gold, and his alone, 
 Beholds undazed. 
 
 III. 
 
 Aequam memento. 
 
 Remember in misfortune's strain. 
 
 To keep an equal mind ; 
 Nor less when things grow bright again 
 
 To keep your joy confined 
 In bounds, nor let it soar too high, 
 For Dellius ! you are sure to die. 
 
 Whether through all the years behind, 
 A housemate grief would stay ; 
 
 Or, in some grassy nook reclined, 
 You passed each holiday. 
 
 Glad, with the wine-cup in your hand, 
 
 Falernian of the choicest brand. 
 
 Why does huge pine, and poplar white, 
 With branches interlaced,
 
 ODES II. in.] AEQUAM MEMENTO. 6l 
 
 To hospitable shade invite ? 
 
 Why- does the streamlet haste 
 To let its eager waters go 
 In zig-zag passage to and fro ? 
 
 Hither bring unguents — tell your boy — 
 
 And wines, and roses too, 
 Sweet flowers that yield too short a joy, 
 
 While Fortune favours you, 
 And youth permits, and Destiny — 
 Dark thread spun by the Sisters three. 
 
 From woods, for which such sums you gave. 
 
 From dwelling, you must flit : 
 The villa, which the yellow wave 
 
 Of Tiber laves, must quit ; 
 The wealth you piled to such a height, 
 Your heir will take it as his right. 
 
 'O' 
 
 What matters whether rich you trace 
 
 To Tnachus of old 
 Your birth, or, of the lowest race 
 
 And poor, beneath the cold 
 You linger, of the open sky; 
 Death pities none ! we all must die ! 
 
 -Reading "quid."
 
 62 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 We all are driven one road ; for all 
 
 Is shaken, soon or late, 
 The lot of destiny to fall. 
 
 From out the urn of fate, 
 And us to our sure doom devote, 
 The endless exile of the boat. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Ne sit ancillae. 
 
 You love a waiting maid ? What then ! 
 
 My Xanthus, where's the shame? 
 Achilles, proudest among men. 
 
 Before you did the same ; 
 Briseis' snowy charms he spied. 
 And loved a slave, for all his pride. 
 
 Tecmessa with her beauty won, 
 Though but a captive maid. 
 
 Her captor Ajax Telamon ; 
 And in the full parade 
 
 Of triumph, great Atreides knew 
 
 That fire of love can triumph too. 
 
 The foes had fallen, (ireat Hector lay, 
 By bold Achilles slain;
 
 ODES III. IV.] NE SIT ANCILLAE. 6^ 
 
 The towers of Troy, an easier prey, 
 
 Were waiting to be ta'en ; 
 But ere the wearied victor brought 
 His captive home, the flame had caught. 
 
 How know you but the yellow hair 
 
 Of Phyllis brings new pride ? 
 A son-in-law may claim to share 
 
 The birthright of his bride ; 
 And yours, I'm sure, has sprung from kings, 
 And 'tis t/ieir loss her bosom wrings. 
 
 '&" 
 
 Trust me, the girl beloved by you, 
 From no vile stock was born ; 
 
 You know her, and you know her true ; 
 Base gain she holds in scorn ; 
 
 Whoe'er her mother was, in shame 
 
 You ne'er will have to speak her name. 
 
 What ! jealous ! when you hear me praise 
 
 Her ankles, face, and arms ! 
 As if I could be in these days 
 
 Susceptible to charms ; 
 You surely can't suspect me, when 
 My years run on to four times ten.
 
 64 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 No7idum subacta. 
 
 Your heifer's neck can never bear 
 
 The yoke with its oppressive weight ; 
 If yoked she cannot work her share ; 
 
 Nor is she old enough to mate. 
 Where grass is green she loves to stray, 
 
 Or in the stream her limbs to cool, 
 Or with her sister calves to play, 
 
 'Mid willows dripping o'er a pool. 
 
 Pluck not the unripe grape ! refrain, 
 
 Till Autumn with its varied hues 
 The livid berries purple stain, 
 
 And' bid you a ripe cluster choose. 
 The maid will soon to woo you come, 
 
 Since Time with her runs swiftly too, 
 And years it adds unto her sum. 
 
 It first has snatched away from you. 
 
 And in short time, this Lalage, 
 With saucy forehead you will find. 
 
 Herself upon the search to be. 
 To get a husband to her mind ;
 
 ODES V. VI.] NONDUM SUBACTA. 65 
 
 How loved she'll be ! coy Pholoe 
 Could never such affection share, 
 
 Nor Chloris, though so fair to see, 
 
 With both her gleaming shoulders bare, 
 
 That not the moon more brightly shines 
 
 Above the sea in calmest night ; 
 Nor Cnidian Gyges, who combines 
 
 All that in girl or boy is bright ; 
 For if with girls you made him dance. 
 
 He would deceive the wisest there, 
 So puzzling is his countenance, 
 
 So like a girl's his flowing hair. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Septiitii, Gades. 
 
 Septimius you would go with me 
 Where Cantabri still brave us free. 
 To Cadiz' barbarous shoals, or sea 
 
 Whose Moorish waters boil. 
 
 But Argive Tibur — thither tend 
 
 My steps, my few last years to spend. 
 
 My wars and wanderings all to end, 
 
 And rest from weary toil. 
 
 E
 
 66 ODES OP^ HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 This if harsh fate will not permit, 
 Galaesus, dear to sheep, will fit/ 
 The country on whose throne did sit 
 Phalanthus, Sparta's son. 
 
 Of all the world that nook for me 
 Hath charms, for not Hymettus' bee 
 Makes sweeter honey; there you see 
 
 Venafrum's fruits outdone. 
 
 Long spring, mild winters, Jove assigns 
 That favoured spot, and Anion's wines. 
 So rich and rare, Falernian vines 
 
 As rivals need not fear. 
 
 Those blissful towers invite us two ; 
 There, when your poet dies, shall you 
 O'er his warm ashes drop his due — 
 
 A kind and friendly tear. 
 
 VII. 
 
 O saepe viecum. 
 
 O oft reduced to straits with me 
 When Brutus led our fights, 
 
 1 " Some far removed place will fit." — // Penseroso.
 
 ODES VI. VII.] O SAEPE MECUM. 67 
 
 Who has restored alive and free 
 
 The Roman to his rights ? 
 The wanderer to Italian skies 
 And his paternal deities ? 
 
 Of friends, O Pompey ! first and best ! 
 
 How oft in lagging hours 
 Have we with wine made breach, all drest 
 
 My head with festal flowers. 
 And all my tresses redolent 
 With odours breathed from Syrian scent. 
 
 The headlong haste to quit the fray 
 
 Upon Philippi's field, 
 I shared with you, and, sad to say, 
 
 I left my puny shield : 
 Valour was crushed, and those who thrust 
 Their hisrh threats forward bit the dust. 
 
 'O' 
 
 But me the swift Mercurius drew 
 Safe through the hostile crowd, 
 
 Still trembling, though concealed from view 
 By screen of gathered cloud. 
 
 While you once more the restless wave 
 
 Sucked back, and to the battle gave. 
 
 But here you are ! To Jove you owe 
 A feast ; then pay it now !
 
 68 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 Your battle-battered limbs bestow 
 
 Beneath my laurel bough ! 
 And do not, while you rest, the wine, 
 Label'd for your own use, decline. 
 
 Fill the bright cups with Massic ! fill ! 
 
 Drink and forget your care ! 
 Pour from the shells their unguents ; still 
 
 There's plenty and to spare; 
 Who weaves our crowns? Some parsley, quick! 
 All dripping, or some myrtle, pick ' 
 
 Who's master of our feast to-day? 
 
 Let Venus choose ! for me, 
 I revel as a Thracian may, 
 
 Or even more than he. 
 My friend is back and I am glad, 
 What harm to be a little mad? 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Ulla si juris. 
 
 Did broken oaths inflict some harm, 
 
 Earine, and reduce your charm 
 
 By one discoloured nail or tooth, 
 
 I then could think you spoke the truth.
 
 ODES VII. VIII.] ULLA SI JURIS. 69 
 
 But lo ! when once the word is said 
 That binds with oaths your faithless head. 
 You flash more lovely on the sight, 
 Our youths' desire, a world's delight .' 
 
 You gain whene'er you cheat with lies 
 Your mother's buried corpse — the skies 
 With silent signs of night aglow, 
 The gods, chill death who cannot know. 
 
 Venus at this must laugh, I say. 
 And Nymphs, look simple as they may; 
 O'er blood-stained stone fierce Cupid, while 
 He whets his fiery darts, must smile. 
 
 Our growing youths all grow for you. 
 Grow a new batch of slaves, nor do 
 The first, though often threatened, fly 
 Your home and your impiety. 
 
 Old man and mother dread you ; he 
 To spare his gold ; her youngster she j 
 And maids just wedded in alarm 
 Wait lords belated by your charm.
 
 •JO ODES OF HORACE. [pook ik 
 
 IX. 
 
 JVoft semper imbres. 
 
 The clouds do not with ceaseless pour 
 
 Rain down upon the miry lea, 
 The changeful tempest does not roar 
 
 For ever o'er the Caspian sea \ 
 Ice does not in Armenian plain, 
 
 My Valgus, all the seasons last, 
 Nor do Garganus oakwoods strain 
 
 For ever 'neath a northern blast ; 
 The ash does not of every leaf, 
 
 Stand widowed all the year; but you, 
 In endless elegies your grief, 
 
 For Mystes, one sad theme, renew\ 
 
 When Vesper rises, " He is dead, 
 
 My Mystes ! I will weep," you cry ; 
 The sun has chased him to his bed. 
 
 And still for your lost friend you sigh. 
 What if that aged hero thus. 
 
 Who lived three times our mortal span, 
 Had mourned his dear Antilochus, 
 
 While all his weary seasons ran? 
 For Troilus his parents wept, 
 
 The Phrygian maids, his sisters, too,
 
 ODES IX. X.] NON SEMPER IMBRES. 71 
 
 But even their great sorrow slept 
 When woe had had its tribute due. 
 
 But you these plaintive cries prolong, 
 
 Indulging in unmanly verse ; 
 But cease, I pray ; I claim your song, 
 
 Great Caesar's glories to rehearse. 
 We'll sing the trophies lately won, 
 
 We'll sing Niphates frozen o'er. 
 And Median river forced to run 
 
 With smaller volume than before ; 
 Through conquered tribes it now must glide, 
 
 Gelonian plains are bounded now. 
 Nor may the subject horseman ride 
 
 Except where Caesar's arms allow. 
 
 X. 
 
 Redius vives. 
 
 Licinius, in life's voyage keep 
 The safer course, avoid the deep, 
 Shun the lee shore, nor closer creep 
 In dread of squall ! 
 
 The golden mean ! who chooses this, 
 All risk of squalid home will miss, 
 Nor live an inmate, drunk with bliss, 
 Of envied hall.
 
 72 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 Winds rock the pines when they are tall ; 
 The highest towers have sorest fall ; 
 The bolt strikes, when it strikes at all, 
 The mountain crest. 
 
 The heart that is attempered right 
 For either lot, when days are bright 
 Will fear, when dark will hope invite. 
 At Jove's behest 
 
 Storms come and go ; what's wrong may mend ; 
 Apollo can his bow unbend. 
 And wake his silent harp to lend 
 A tuneful tale. 
 
 Though poor, be brave ! Some spirit show ! 
 And should the breeze too prosperous blow, ■ 
 'Tis time, as all wise seamen know, 
 To shorten sail. 
 
 XL 
 
 Quid bellicosus. 
 
 Quintius Hirpinus, why so keen 
 To know what wara are planned ? 
 
 The Adriatic lies between 
 Us and the Scythian's land ;
 
 ODES X. XI.] QUID BELLICOSUS. 73 
 
 Then let the warlike projects go, 
 Of Scythian or Cantabrian foe. 
 
 Time flies so fast, so little needs, 
 
 Why fret? youth speeds away, 
 And to its beardless grace succeeds 
 
 Dry age, and hair of grey ; 
 Good-bye to all love's eager fires. 
 And easy sleep, when youth retires. 
 
 Spring brings the flower a grace ; it flies. 
 
 Another takes its place ; 
 The moon a changing light supplies, 
 
 A blush on changing face ; 
 Then why with these unresting plans 
 Distress a soul so frail as man's ? 
 
 Why not beneath this lofty pine, 
 
 Or this tall plane instead. 
 With me, just as you are, recline. 
 
 Sweet roses round your head? 
 With Eastern nard our locks, though grey. 
 We'll curl, and revel while we may ! 
 
 For wine disperses eating care ; 
 
 But liquor should be cool ; 
 Quick ! take these cups ; what boy is there ? — 
 
 And dip in limpid pool ;
 
 74 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 That running stream will serve your turn ; 
 Falernian, if nncooled, will burn. 
 
 Run one of you and lure the shy, 
 
 But wanton Lyde ! say, 
 She fetch her harp of ivory 
 
 And hasten here to play ; 
 Her hair too she must neatly bind 
 In knots of the Laconiah kind. 
 
 XII. 
 
 jVo/is loiiga ferae. 
 
 The wars which fierce Numantia long 
 Endured, or Hannibal's stern ire ; — 
 
 You would not have me offer wrong 
 To the soft measures of my lyre, 
 
 By fitting to it themes like these, 
 
 Telling how Punic blood made red Sicilian seas? 
 
 No, nor the savage Lapithae, 
 
 Nor drunk Hylaeus, nor the fight 
 The youths, great Tellus' progeny, 
 
 Waged, till Alcides, with his might 
 Subdued them, yet with risk so near, 
 Old Saturn's shining dwelling shook with fear.
 
 ODES XI. XII.] NOLIS LONGA FERAE. 75 
 
 Take Caesar's triumphs, even those 
 
 Would with a nobler record live, 
 Maecenas, in your stately prose, 
 
 Than any form my art could give ; 
 Tell you his wars, and how he brings 
 Along the streets the necks of boastful kings. 
 
 My Muse directs her minstrel's art, 
 
 A lady's song for theme supplies, 
 She bids me praise Licymnia's heart. 
 
 She bids me praise Licymnia's eyes, 
 Those eyes so bright, that constant breast, 
 Of happy mutual love the guardian blest. 
 
 She dances, and you praise her feet ; 
 
 She laughs, you think her laugh divine ; 
 And when on Dian's day there meet 
 
 In sport, and shining arms entwine. 
 Fair maids, you'll say Licymnia's place 
 Is always there that festival to grace. 
 
 The gold of rich Achaemenes, 
 
 Or Mygdon's Phrygian treasures rare, — 
 
 You would not change for all of these 
 One tress of sweet Licymnia's hair, 
 
 Nor for full Arab houses — all 
 
 Would be a bargain many times too small,
 
 76 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 When once she turns her neck to meet 
 
 Those burning kisses that you pour, 
 Or with a wilfulness so sweet, 
 
 Denies that you may try the more 
 To snatch, not ask for : snatch your fill, 
 Or, if you like it, let her snatch ; she will. 
 
 XIII. 
 Ille et nefasto. 
 
 He who first planted thee, O Tree — 
 
 O cursed day ! O hand profane ! 
 
 Reared thee his own descendant's bane. 
 Reared thee his hamlet's scorn to be. 
 
 The wretch — yes, I believe it quite — 
 The neck of his own father broke, 
 And made his own guest-chambers soak 
 
 With blood shed in the silent night. 
 
 Poison of Colchis, every dread 
 
 And impious crime he used, who thee 
 Reared on my ground, O wretched Tree, 
 
 To fall upon my guiltless head. 
 
 From hour to hour what risks to shun 
 Man is not warned ; the sailor who 
 The Bosphorus fears, fears, once he's through, 
 
 No ills lurk else beneath the sun.
 
 DDKS XII. XIII.] ILLE ET NEFASTO. 77 
 
 One dread our soldiers entertain, 
 
 The Parthian arrows when they fly ; 
 
 To frighten Parthians Italy 
 Has a strong prison-house and chain. 
 
 But what the strength of Death can stay? 
 
 Death steals upon us unforeseen ; 
 
 Away the nations that have been 
 It swept, and still will sweep away. 
 
 How nearly I, when this befell, 
 
 Saw Proserpine, her realms of gloom. 
 And Aeacus pronouncing doom. 
 
 And where apart the pious dwell. 
 
 x\nd Sappho, on Aeolian string. 
 
 Of her land's maidens making moan. 
 And one who wakes a fuller tone 
 
 With golden quill; for he can sing, 
 
 Alcaeus, of all woes by land 
 
 And on the sea, in flight or fight; 
 
 And ghosts, that each should themes recite 
 Sacred to silence, wond'ring stand. 
 
 Round him the greater crowd appears, 
 Jostling each other in their haste 
 To hear of wars, and tyrants chased, 
 
 And drink all in with greedy ears.
 
 7 8 ODES OP^ HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 What wonder, when at that song's sound, 
 The hundred-headed beast depress'd 
 Black ears entranced, and paused for rest 
 
 The snakes m Furies' tresses bound ! 
 
 Prometheus too forgets his woe, 
 
 And Pelops' sire — such song's sweet power ! — 
 
 Orion leaves the lynx to cower, 
 Unhunted lets the lion go. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Eheu fiigaces. 
 
 O Postumus, O Postumus, 
 How fast the years glide by ! 
 
 Old age and wrinkles threaten us. 
 Nor pause for piety ! 
 
 Nor may you death's approach defer. 
 
 For death will still be conqueror ! 
 
 Three hundred bulls, a bull each day. 
 
 Offer at Pluto's shrine ; 
 Nor bulls, nor tears, his destined prey 
 
 Will tempt him to resign, 
 Who keeps huge Geryon below, 
 And Tityos, where the waters flow
 
 ODES XIII. \iv.] EHEU FUGACES. 79 
 
 Of that sad stream, which all, alas ! 
 
 Who live by gifts of earth, 
 Must sail across, yes, all must pass, 
 
 Though back to kings our birth 
 We trace, or with a peasant's toil 
 We cultivate a needy soil. 
 
 In vain from blood-stained fields to run ; 
 
 In vain while breakers roar. 
 The noise of Hadria's waves to shun ; 
 
 In vain, till Autunui's o'er. 
 To dread the wind that sets from East, 
 The wind nor good for man nor beast. 
 
 Cocytus we must visit, trace 
 
 Him languid through the gloom ; 
 
 And see the Danaid's cursed race, 
 The Aeolid's long doom ; 
 
 Yes, we must look — we cannot choose — 
 
 While Sisyphus his task renews. 
 
 Earth you must leave and home, away 
 
 From charming wife must go ; 
 Of all the trees you plant to-day, 
 
 The Cypress, type of woe. 
 Alone will follow when you yield 
 The short-lived mastery of your field.
 
 8o ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 Your heir will drink the Caecuban, 
 
 Kept under lock and key, 
 And think himself the better man, 
 
 His revels flow so free. 
 And sovereign pontiffs, when they dine, 
 Scarce drench the floor with lordlier wine. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Jam paiica arairo. 
 
 Few acres will they leave to plough. 
 These piles the wealthy make ; 
 
 The fish-ponds they are digging now 
 Surpass the Lucrine lake ; 
 
 Our elms must go — they plant instead 
 
 The plane tree, which no vines will wed. 
 
 Our orchards turn to gardens, fair 
 With nosegays, for their scent, 
 
 Where beds of violets, and where 
 The myrtle redolent, 
 
 Will nothing but perfumes afford. 
 
 Where olives grew for former lord. 
 
 The laurel too will lend thick shade 
 Against the noontide ray;
 
 ODES xiv.-xvi.] JAM PAUCA ARATRO. 8i 
 
 When Romulus or Cato made 
 
 The laws, 'twas not our way ; 
 Long beards and plainness were the rule 
 With people of that antique school. 
 
 Then private means were small ; but great 
 The State's. No subject planned 
 
 A measured space before his gate 
 For private porch to stand ; 
 
 Or raised a handsome colonnade, 
 
 To catch the cool north wind and shade. 
 
 Even the humble wayside sods 
 
 Were not to spurn or waste ; 
 The towns and temples of the Gods 
 
 At public charge were graced, — 
 Such buildings, such as these alone. 
 Were beautified with quarried stone. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Oilum divas. 
 
 "Grant rest," the Aegean sailor cries 
 To Heav'n, far out at sea, when skies 
 All black with cloud deceive his eyes, 
 And moon and stars withhold. 
 
 F
 
 82 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 " Grant rest," prays Thrace, so fierce in fight, 
 And Medes with gorgeous quiver dight ; 
 But, Grosphus, rest, not purple bright 
 Nor gems can buy, nor gold. 
 
 For wealth removes not from the heart, 
 
 Nor consul's lictor bids depart 
 
 Its vexing woes, nor cares that dart 
 
 Round fretted vaults in flight. 
 
 The man lives well, though scant his hoard, 
 Whose father's salt-dish decks his board, 
 Whose light meals slumbers light afford 
 Unvexed by lust or fright. 
 
 Brief man, why venture aim on aim ? 
 Seek climes with other suns aflame ? 
 Though a new land the exile claim, 
 From self is refuge there ? 
 
 ^to^ 
 
 Care climbs the brazen galley's side ; 
 From carking care can troopers ride? 
 Cloud-driving blasts, and stags, when spied, 
 Are swift, but swifter care. 
 
 • 
 Glad hearts should not forestall their woe, 
 
 But laugh at bitterness, and so 
 Relieve their sorrows ; nought below 
 Is happy all in all.
 
 ODES XVI. XVII.] OTIUM DIVOS. 83 
 
 Fam'd was Achilles, short his day ; 
 Age to Tithonus brought decay ; 
 And what Time has denied you may 
 Perchance to my lot fall. 
 
 Sheep bleat, Sicilian heifers low 
 By hundreds, yours ; mares neigh that go 
 In harness, yours : your fleeces show, 
 Twice-dipp'd, the Afric stain. 
 
 True to herself, Fate gave as mine 
 Few acres, but has breathed a fine 
 Strain of the songful Grecian Nine, 
 For carping crowd disdain. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Cur me qiierelis. 
 
 Why kill me thus, Maecenas, with thy moan, 
 As if about to die, 
 When neither Heaven nor I 
 
 Could wish thee gone before, me left alone. 
 Grand glory of my life, supporting corner-stone? 
 
 If I of half my soul must be bereft 
 By some untimely blow, 
 Why should / fail to go,
 
 84 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 The half least dear, and there be only left 
 A broken fragment of one heart in two thus cleft? 
 
 One day will bring the downfall of us both. 
 
 We go, ah yes, we go, 
 
 Two partners in one woe ; 
 For I have sworn, and will not break the oath, 
 To follow thee on that last journey, nothing loth. 
 
 Not the Chimaera, with her breath of flame ; 
 
 Nor, if alive he stands, 
 
 Gyas with hundred hands, 
 Shall tear me from thee. Take this in the name 
 Of Justice who is mighty ; Fate has willed the same. 
 
 Did Libra, or did Scorpio, dreadful star, 
 
 Shed on my natal hour 
 
 Its all too baneful power? 
 Or was it Capricornus, who, afar. 
 Reigns over western regions where great waters are ? 
 
 In ways incredible our stars agree; 
 
 Staying Fate's wings, Jove's star 
 To shield thee shone, and far 
 
 Snatched thee from impious Saturn, when in glee 
 Crowds made the theatre resound with plaudits three.
 
 ODES XVII. XVIII.] CUR ME QUERELIS. 85 
 
 Me too a falling tree had snatched away, 
 
 But Faunus broke its fall, 
 
 To men Mercurial 
 A guardian God. Thy victims haste to pay. 
 Thy votive fane to build. A humble lamb / slay. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A'^on ebur. 
 
 No ivory in my dwelling shines, 
 No golden ceiling overhead ; 
 
 No slabs from rich Hymettian mines 
 An ample space of marble spread : 
 
 No columns to support them rise, 
 
 Of stone far Africa supplies. 
 
 I did not find myself the heir 
 Of Attalus, nor claim as mine 
 
 His palace; nor do clients fair 
 In honourable toil combine 
 
 To spin for Horace, as for you, 
 
 Laconian wools of purple hue. 
 
 But honour, and a kindly vein 
 Of genial wit, from rancour free, 
 
 Bring rich men to my dwelling, fain 
 To court me in my poverty;
 
 86 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 Nor do I ask the Gods for more, 
 Nor my rich friends by begging bore. 
 
 My Sabine farm, though only one, 
 Gives all the happiness I need ; 
 
 Day treads on day ; when one is done 
 Another hastens to succeed ; 
 
 New moons go climbing up the sky, 
 
 Only, like all the rest, to die. 
 
 But you, though death is close at hand. 
 Contract for marbles to be hewn. 
 
 Forgetful that, just where you stand, 
 A grave for you will open soon, 
 
 And try to lengthen out the shore 
 
 At Baiae, where the billows roar. 
 
 For now but passing rich you think 
 Yourself, although of all the land 
 
 The master, to the water's brink ; 
 
 You let no neighbour landmark stand, 
 
 But move it, and your clients' bound 
 
 Leap over, greedy still for ground. 
 
 And so come wending from their farms, 
 In sad procession, two and two. 
 
 Their squalid children in their arms, 
 Husband and wife, expelled by you ;
 
 ODE XVIII.] NON EBUR. 87 
 
 The very Gods they bring away, 
 To which their fathers used to pray. 
 
 And yet what surer palace waits 
 The wealthy heir of all this pelf, 
 
 Than that within the gaping gates 
 Of Orcus, greedy as himself; 
 
 That is his limit, drawn by fate, 
 
 And he must reach it soon or late. 
 
 Why aim at more? Th' impartial earth 
 
 Will open to receive us all, 
 The poor and boys of royal birth ; 
 
 The attendant guard at Pluto's hall, 
 Though bribed with gold, would not convey 
 Cunning Prometheus back to day. 
 
 'Tis Orcus Tantalus restrains 
 
 And that proud hero's race will keep ; 
 
 'Tis he who, when the beggar's pains 
 And toils are over, bids him sleep: 
 
 The poor man prays. He hears him. Nay ! 
 
 He hears him though he does not pray.
 
 88 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Bacchuni in remotis. 
 
 On rocks remote I've Bacchus seen, — 
 
 Believe it after times ! — 
 Dictating songs to Nymphs, all keen 
 
 To learn the master's rhymes : 
 Goat- footed Satyrs, too, were near, 
 Each with his ears pricked up to hear. 
 
 Evoe ! my heart with new unrest 
 
 Beats fast, as in affright ; 
 And, full of Bacchus' self, my breast 
 
 Is thrill'd with wild delight: 
 Evoe ! O spare me Liber, spare ! 
 Who dost the dreaded Thyrsus bear ! 
 
 Now I may sing — thou giv'st the right — 
 
 Bold Thyiad crew my theme, 
 The fount of wine, the river white 
 
 With milk, a wealthy stream : 
 Or I may tell of honey-bees. 
 And trickling combs in hollow trees. 
 
 's 
 
 Or how thine own blest spouse her crown 
 'Mid stars has set to glow;
 
 ODE XIX.] BACCHUM IN REMOTIS. 89 
 
 Or how the house of Pentheus down 
 
 Fell with one headlong blow ; 
 Or of Lycurgus I may sing, 
 And his ill fate, mad Thracian king. 
 
 Thy power can bend the river's flow, 
 
 And curb barbarian seas : 
 To distant mountains thou wilt go, 
 
 When the Bistonides 
 Hold revel, there, when moist with wine, 
 With harmless snakes their locks to twine. 
 
 And when thy father's realms on high 
 
 By impious bands were scaled 
 Of giants, mad to climb the sky. 
 
 They at thy presence quailed : 
 Then Rhoetus feared the lion's claws. 
 And shunn'd the terror of his jaws. 
 
 Yet fitter far than war for thee 
 Seemed jest and game and dance. 
 
 Nor was it thought that thou would'st be 
 At home where weapons glance; 
 
 Yet whether peace it were or strife, 
 
 Thou wert its centre and its life. 
 
 When Cerberus saw thy forehead shine, 
 The golden horn he knew,
 
 90 ODES OF HORACE. [book ii. 
 
 And gently wagg'd his tail — a sign 
 
 Of peace and homage true : 
 With triple tongue, on thy retreat, 
 The monster lick'd thy legs and feet. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Noil usitata. 
 
 It is no common wing nor slight, 
 That through the lucid air, 
 
 The twy-formed bard, in willing flight, 
 From earth aloft shall bear 
 
 Quite out of reach of envy, when 
 
 He leaves below the towns of men. 
 
 Never, though poor my birth, shall I, 
 Whom you have called your friend. 
 
 Like other men, Maecenas, die ; 
 Like other mortals end ; 
 
 Could I, who found Maecenas kind, 
 
 In Stygian waters be confined? 
 
 Now, now, upon my legs I feel 
 Clinging rough folds of skin, 
 
 I grow a swan from head to heel, 
 For downy plumes begin,
 
 ODES XIX. XX.] XON USITAT.V. 9: 
 
 All white, upon my breast to show, 
 Wings on my hands and shoulders grow. 
 
 And now, but on more famous ^ wing, 
 
 Like Icarus I soar, 
 And soon as bird shall fly and sing 
 
 Where Euxine waters roar; 
 Shall pass Gaetulian Syrtes by. 
 And Hyperborean plains descry. 
 
 The Colchian soon my verse shall prize, 
 
 The Dacian, who would fain 
 His dread of Maesian troop disguise; 
 
 While scholars ripe of Spain, 
 And far Gelonians, me shall know, 
 And they for whom Rhone's waters flow. 
 
 You cannot bury me ; then stay 
 
 Dirges and dismal cries ; 
 Put all unsightly grief away; 
 
 Silence your elegies ; 
 Oh spare the mockery of a grave. 
 And vain sepulchral honours waive ! 
 
 1 Reading "notior."
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Odi profanutn vuigus. 
 
 The unhallowed crowd, the vulgar throng, 
 
 I hate and warn away: 
 Silence ! and list a strain of song 
 
 Ne'er heard before to-day, 
 Which I, the Muses' priest, will chant 
 To boys and girls : all else, avaunt ! 
 
 As flocks their shepherds, men their kings, 
 
 Since they must fear, obey : 
 Jove's nod those very monarchs brings 
 
 Under his world-wide sway, 
 Jove, who the giants overcame. 
 And won, by victory, lasting fame. 
 
 One man excels by planting — say — 
 More acres with the vine;
 
 BOOK III. ODE I.] ODI PROFANUM VULGUS. 03 
 
 This to the Campus takes his way, 
 
 Proud of a longer line 
 Of ancestors of noble birth, 
 While this trusts only to his worth. 
 
 This one his client mob to swell 
 
 Aspires ; but, after all, 
 'Tis Fate's imperial law will tell 
 
 Which man will rise or fall : 
 And then, for each of us in turn, 
 A name leaps from the ample urn. 
 
 The tyrant, if a naked sword 
 
 Hangs o'er his impious neck, 
 Will get no pleasure from the board 
 
 Sicilian dainties deck : 
 Elaborate cookery will not please, 
 Nor birds, nor music, charm back ease. 
 
 The kindly sleep of country folk 
 
 To lowly roofs will deign : 
 And shady river banks invoke 
 
 Its presence, not in vain ; 
 It visits Tempe, where the West 
 Sends winds to lull to dreamless rest. 
 
 The man who asks enough for need, 
 And does not ask for more,
 
 94 ODES OF HORACE. [book ill. 
 
 Will rest, unvexed by anxious heed, 
 
 When stormy oceans roar, 
 Nor for the pelting tempests care 
 Of rising Kid or setting Bear : 
 
 Nor though his vines are crushed by hail ; 
 
 His farm, that promised well. 
 Deceives him ; nor though harvests fail, 
 
 And trees some grievance tell 
 Of flooded fields or scorching heat, 
 Or cruel winter storms that beat. 
 
 The fishes have no room to swim : 
 
 Our piers obstruct the main : 
 Here a contractor brings with him 
 
 A large and busy train : 
 They pile huge stones upon the ground : 
 The owner comes to look around. 
 
 How proud he is ! but where he goes 
 
 Go threats ; and Fear attends : 
 He mounts his galley, — three its rows 
 
 Brass-bound — and Care ascends, 
 Nor leaves him : then he rides, to find 
 Black Care on saddle close behind. 
 
 Well ! if the mind with grief opprest 
 Lacks charm in Phrygian stone :
 
 ODES I. II.] ODI PROFANUM VULGUS. 95 
 
 If those in starlike purples drest, 
 
 Or brighter, still must groan : 
 If Achaemenian unguents shine 
 In vain : if vain, Falernian wine : 
 
 Why should I build a portico 
 
 To dazzle passers-by? 
 Why, the new style of art to show. 
 
 Erect a mansion high? 
 Why should I change my Sabine vale 
 For riches which new cares entail? 
 
 IL 
 
 Angustam amice. 
 
 To grow robust, your boy must learn. 
 
 My friend, to bear a life 
 Of pinching poverty, the stern, 
 
 Sharp discipline of strife. 
 That Parthians, though so fierce, may fear 
 The knight, a terror with his spear. 
 
 An out-door life, 'mid war's alarms : 
 
 Give this, and by and by 
 Some royal maid, of ripened charms, 
 
 Will have deep cause to sigh,
 
 c,6 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 Or matron, from beleaguered towers, 
 Watching her lord's ill-handled powers, 
 
 And dreading lest, amid the fight 
 
 Upon the plain below, 
 The king by rash assault excite 
 
 That lion 'midst the foe ; 
 Through heaps of slain, all blood and wrath, 
 He rages, — death to cross his path ! 
 
 How fair for fatherland, and sweet. 
 
 Is death ! but all must die ; 
 Death follows, and with footsteps fleet, 
 
 E'en cowards when they fly ; 
 Death has no pity for the young, 
 Though limbs are weak and nerves unstrung. 
 
 But virtue knows no base defeat; 
 
 Her honours stainless shine ; 
 The axe she wields, and can, when meet, 
 
 Assume it or resign. 
 But cares no fickle crowd to please. 
 Nor veers round with the veering breeze. 
 
 Virtue, to those who guiltless die. 
 
 Shows heaven with open door ; 
 Obstruct her path, and she will try 
 
 To force her way the more;
 
 ODES II. III.] ANGUSTAM AMICE. 07 
 
 Coarse haunts she loathes, and with a bound 
 She soars above the reeking ground. 
 
 For silence, too, so true and close, 
 
 Sure guerdon waits ; and I 
 Make solemn warning : " Let not those 
 
 Who Ceres' mystery 
 Divulge, attempt to share with me 
 A home, or with me put to sea." 
 
 For Jove, if cheated of his dues, 
 
 The holy and the vile 
 Will treat alike ; his doom pursues 
 
 The sinner ; though, awhile 
 Her lameness make the Fury slow, 
 Rarely she lets her victim go. 
 
 III. 
 
 Justum et tenace7n. 
 
 The righteous man, and resolute 
 
 Of purpose, dreads no tyrant's glance. 
 Nor menace in his countenance ; 
 Nor can the rabble, though they hoot 
 All hot for mischief, with their cry 
 Shake from his rock-like constancy,
 
 98 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 Nor stormy Auster, whose control 
 The restless waves of Hadria own ; 
 Nor Jove's strong hand, from which are thrown 
 
 His lightnings when his thunders roll ; 
 
 The world may into fragments break 
 
 About his head, he will not quake. 
 
 This temper gave to Pollux might. 
 
 And Hercules in his long quest ; 
 
 By this each hero upward pressed. 
 And touched at length the fiery height; 
 With them Augustus, shining, sips 
 The nectar with empurpled lips. 
 
 Thy tigers, Father Bacchus, saw 
 
 This worth in thee, which proved a spell 
 That could those untamed beasts compel 
 
 The yoke to bear, the car to draw ; 
 
 By this Quirinus — Mavors' team 
 
 Conveyed him — fled the woeful stream. 
 
 For Juno spake, and speaking, spread 
 High pleasure through the Gods' debate : 
 " On Ilium, yes, on Ilium, fate, 
 
 Through Paris, who, unchaste, had wed 
 
 A foreign dame, has fallen at last ; 
 
 Her glory in the dust is cast.
 
 ODE III.] JUSTUM ET TENACEM. 99 
 
 " Doomed was the city from the hour 
 In which Laoniedon, untrue, 
 The Gods defrauded of their due, 
 Doomed, and surrendered to my power. 
 And chaste Minerva's, chief and folk 
 Who all the laws of honour broke. 
 
 " No longer does his beauty please 
 The fair Laconian girl, whose vows 
 Were broken to her lawful spouse. 
 For this base guest from over seas ; 
 Falsehood made Priam's house too weak. 
 Though Hector fought, to meet the Greek. 
 
 " The war I plotted to prolong 
 
 Now ends in peace, and I at last 
 Can count my heavy wrath as past; 
 To Mars, forgiving thus my wrong, 
 My hated grandson I restore, 
 Him whom the Trojan priestess bore. 
 
 *' And now I yield him right to rise 
 Up to the happy regions bright. 
 And to quaff nectar, as of right, 
 With all the natives of the skies ; 
 And with the Gods a place to hold. 
 In their blest ranks to be enrolled.
 
 loo ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 " While between Ilium and Rome 
 
 Stretches a broad and angry main, 
 These exiles where they will may reign, 
 Find where they will a happy home ; 
 I care not where they have their joy, 
 So that they reign no more in Troy. 
 
 " If there the herd with trampling hoof 
 Paris' and Priam's grave deface. 
 And wild beasts' young find hiding-place. 
 The Capitol with shining roof 
 May stand, and Rome's fierce arms succeed 
 In giving laws to conquered Mede. 
 
 " As far as to the utmost bound 
 
 Of those wide seas that intervene 
 Europe and Africa between, 
 Rome's name may take its dreaded sound, 
 And where the Nile with swelling waves 
 O'erflows, and all the country laves. 
 
 " But let her still despise the gold 
 
 Now hidden, and with wise design. 
 Deep in the yet unopened mine ; 
 And thus deserve the name of bold 
 Far more than if her hand should dare 
 Heaven's treasures from their shrines to tear.
 
 ODE III.] JUSTUM ET TENACEM. loi 
 
 '"The world's far end,'^ where'er it be, 
 Let Rome not in her progress stay, 
 Until on this her hand she lay ; 
 Nor from her wish desist to see 
 Where fires their revels hold, and dew 
 And clouds and rain in retinue. 
 
 " Yes, let the Roman fight ! But I 
 Ordain this law, and thus foretell ; 
 Let him not love old Troy too well; 
 
 Nor push his patriot piety, 
 
 So far, in winning, as to dare 
 
 The walls of Ilium to repair. 
 
 " Her second birth, if Troy again 
 Be born, will presage only woe ; 
 As once before, her streets will flow 
 With blood, be piled with heaps of slain ; 
 And I, Jove's sister and his wife, 
 Will head the troops in glorious strife. 
 
 "If thrice the brazen wall shall rise. 
 
 And Phoebus thrice his succour lend, 
 Thrice shall it come to violent end, 
 Demolished by my Greek allies ; 
 Thrice shall the wife to slavery borne. 
 Her husband and her children mourn." 
 
 * " How rolls the Wairoa at your world's far end?"— Browning.
 
 102 • ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 But stay, my lyre for mirth was meant, 
 And not for songs of fear and ire. 
 Whither away, good Muse? Aspire 
 No more a Goddess to present, 
 Lest notes so thin and weak as thine, 
 Take from her accents their Divine. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Descende coelo. 
 
 Come down, O Queen Calliope, 
 From heaven, and to the flute 
 
 Sing some sustained melody, 
 Or to Apollo's lute ; 
 
 Choose for thyself the pipe or string, 
 
 The grave or ringing voice, but sing. 
 
 Listen ! she sings ! Or is it dream 
 Of "fond illusion"! bred? 
 
 I listen, and to wander seem, 
 
 Through hallowed woodlands led, 
 
 By pleasant sound of waters near, 
 
 And gentle breeze that meets my ear. 
 
 ^ I have ventured in borrowing this translation of amabilis 
 insania from Wordsworth to follow Professor Conington.
 
 ODES III. IV.] DESCENDE COELO. 103 
 
 Once — of myself the legend tells — 
 
 On Voltur, tired with play, — 
 Nursed was he in Apulia's dells, 
 
 But now had strayed away — 
 A boy lay sleeping, and was found 
 By doves — so runs the ston- — crowned. 
 
 The leaves were fresh about my hair; 
 
 The folk in wonder prest 
 From Acherontia high in air, 
 
 Perched on a hill, like nest: 
 From Bantine woods, and where below. 
 The crops of rich Forentum grow. 
 
 Yes ! what a wonder to them all, 
 
 That thus unharmed I lay. 
 Where bears abound, and vipers crawl 
 
 So deadly; m\Ttle spray 
 And sacred laurel round my head : 
 " A child inspired by God," they said. 
 
 Yours, whatsoever place invite. 
 
 Yours, Muses, I shall be. 
 On Tibur's slope, on Sabine height, 
 
 By Baiae's limpid sea. 
 Or at Praeneste, if from heat 
 I there raav find a cool retreat.
 
 I04 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 Dear to your founts and choirs am I ; 
 
 They formed a guard for me; 
 Three risks I ran, but did not die : 
 
 Phihppi's rout ; curs'd tree ; 
 And shipwreck in Sicihan wave, 
 Where Pahnurus found his grave. 
 
 Go you with me, and bhthe and bold 
 
 I roam o'er sea and land ; 
 The raging Bosphorus behold. 
 
 Or pace the burning sand ; 
 For Euxine waves, Assyrian shore, 
 The Muses' friend may all explore. 
 
 Britain, where guests fierce welcome meet, 
 
 I'll see ; to Spain will fare. 
 Where Concan finds mares' blood so sweet. 
 
 Or where Gelonians wear 
 The dreaded quiver; and will go 
 Unharmed where Don's broad waters flow. 
 
 You give the high prince Caesar rest 
 
 When to the towns he sends 
 His wearied troops, and he, in quest 
 
 Of peace from toil, unbends ; 
 To your Pierian cave you hie. 
 To witch him with sweet minstrelsy.
 
 ODE IV.] DESCENDE COELO. 105 
 
 Kind, you give gentle counsel ; kind, 
 
 You in your gift delight, — 
 From gentle counsel gentle mind ! — 
 
 We know, we men, the might 
 Of Jove whose lightnings overthrew 
 The impious Titans' monster crew. 
 
 For windy sea and ponderous earth. 
 
 Cities, and realms of woe. 
 The Gods above, of human birth 
 
 The busy throngs below, 
 One sovereign Lord they all obey, 
 Contented with his righteous sway. 
 
 But what a crew was that ! [there went 
 
 E'en to Jove's heart a fright] : 
 Young giants, strong and confident, 
 
 With arms just made for fight ; 
 Those brothers too, who strove to heap 
 Pelion on dark Olympus' steep ! 
 
 But what could huge Typhoeus do? 
 
 Strong Mimas, daring one? 
 Enceladus, who wrenched and threw 
 
 Tree trunks? Porphyrion, 
 Wliose every gesture was a threat? 
 Or Rhoetus, when the Gods they met?
 
 io6 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 How could e'en these the ringing shield 
 
 Of awful Pallas dare ? 
 And Vulcan greedy for the field, 
 
 And Juno's queenly air ; 
 And Phoebus ? never will the foe 
 See those strong arms without their bow. 
 
 Phoebus, who bathes his flowing hair 
 
 In pure Castalian dew, 
 Who to his native woods will fare, 
 
 Roam Lycian copses through, 
 Apollo of the double name, 
 Whom Patara and Delos claim. 
 
 Brute force, unless good counsel guide, 
 
 Meets failure from excess ; 
 But force, with wisdom by its side, 
 
 E'en Gods delight to bless. 
 The Gods, who visit with their hate 
 Tyrants who crime originate. 
 
 As witness of my maxim take 
 
 Gyas with hundred hands; 
 And he who onslaught dared to make 
 
 On Dian ; there he stands 
 Proof that the maiden knew no stain, 
 Orion, by her arrow slain.
 
 ODES IV. v.] DESCENDE COELO. 107 
 
 Their mother earth renews the groan 
 
 Wrung by the cruel fate, 
 Which on the monstrous brood, her own, 
 
 Cast her precipitate, 
 And mourns that by the bolt of heaven, 
 To lurid Orcus they were driven. 
 
 The swift fires gnaw in vain which burn 
 
 'Neath Aetna all the time ; 
 From Tityos' liver will not turn 
 
 The bird placed ward o'er crime ; 
 Three hundred chains for ever must 
 Pirithous bind, and curb his lust. 
 
 Coelo tonantem. 
 
 That Jove is king in heaven we know 
 
 He thunders : we believe ; 
 And now a God to dwell below, 
 
 Among us we receive, 
 Augustus, once he tames in fight 
 The British and the Persian might. 
 
 What ! Crassus' soldier, could he take 
 A wife of barbarous race ?
 
 io8 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 Wear armour ^ for a foeman's sake? 
 
 Grow old amidst disgrace? 
 Shame on our Senate's lapse ! oh where 
 Is gone the Roman character ? 
 
 Apulian ! Marsian ! these confess 
 
 A Mede as king? forget 
 Rome's sacred shield, her name, her dress, 
 
 And Vesta burning yet ? 
 With Rome unharmed, and in the sky. 
 Unharmed, Jove's sovereign majesty? 
 
 xAlU this wise Regulus foresaw. 
 And spurn'd the foul disgrace 
 
 Of shameful terms, about to draw 
 Destruction on the race. 
 
 And in all coming time on Rome, 
 
 Should pity bring the captives home. 
 
 ' I saw in Carthage," so he cried, 
 " Standards and arms of Rome 
 
 On fanes displayed : no Roman died 
 To save or fetch them home : 
 
 Ay, I saw men, still free, alack ! 
 
 With hands fast bound behind the back. 
 
 ^ Readintr " armis."
 
 ODE v.] COELO TONANTEM. 109 
 
 " I saw the gates wide open stand, 
 I saw the wasted field, — 
 Our work, — now tilled by hostile hand 
 
 A hostile crop to yield ; 
 And men who would not this prevent, 
 Would come back braver than they went 
 
 " Ransomed with gold ! O foolish thought ! 
 
 You add but loss to shame : 
 Can vanished colours back be brought? 
 
 Look wools once dyed the same 
 Their hues all faded? Will, when men 
 Decline, true virtue rise again ? 
 
 " Do hinds fight when you break their snare ? 
 
 Then these poor cozened men, 
 To meet their treacherous foe might dare 
 
 In open fight again : 
 Dastards ! who meanly let men tie 
 Their hands, and only feared to die. 
 
 " How man must fight to save his life 
 
 The coward knew not ; tried 
 To patch a peace upon the strife ; 
 
 Our shame ! for Carthage pride ! 
 O Carthage, thus exalted high 
 By the disgrace of Italy !"
 
 no ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 He spoke, then as all right in life 
 
 Were lost, he sent, they say, 
 His children and his faithful wife. 
 
 Without one kiss, away, 
 Turned sternly from their last embrace, 
 And glued to earth his manly face, 
 
 Nor stirred, till from his constant tone 
 
 The Senate constant grew, 
 Listened to counsel all his own, 
 
 From him fresh courage drew, 
 Then from his weeping friends he went, 
 A noble soul, to banishment. 
 
 Ay ! hastened, though he knows that there 
 
 The barbarous foes provide 
 Appalling torture ; he will bear ! 
 
 And so he thrusts aside 
 The citizens who bid him stay. 
 And kinsmen who would fain delay, 
 
 And goes with no less unconcern 
 
 Than, suit decided fair, 
 He might from tedious business turn. 
 
 And clients, to repair 
 To sweet Venafrum's fields, or see 
 Sparta's Tarentine colony.
 
 ODES V. VI.] DELICTA MAJORUM. m 
 
 VI. 
 
 Delicta majonim. 
 
 Though guiltless, Roman, you must pay 
 The forfeit of your fathers' guilt, 
 
 Till shrines now falling to decay, 
 In seemly sort shall be rebuilt ; 
 
 And the Gods' statues, blackened o'er 
 
 With dust and smoke, shall shine once more. 
 
 You rule the world, because you own 
 
 The Gods are rulers over you; 
 All issues spring from them alone; 
 
 To them confess all issues due ! 
 Woes, for neglect of God on high, 
 Are piled on sorrowing Italy. 
 
 For twice Monaeses, and the band 
 
 Of Pacorus, our onset met ; 
 Unblest, our troops could make no stand; 
 
 They crushed us, proud the spoil to get, 
 Ay, smiled to add to what before. 
 But paltry necklaces, they wore. 
 
 How nearly Rome beheld her walls 
 Laid prostrate by a foreign might !
 
 112 
 
 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 For occupied with factious brawls, 
 
 She could not face her foes in fight — 
 The Aethiop seaman's dreaded name, 
 The Dacian with his deadly aim. 
 
 Those ages that engendered vice, 
 
 Times so prolific in disgrace. 
 Polluted first the marriage ties. 
 
 And then the home, and then the race ; 
 And from this fountain death and woe 
 Upon the land and people flow. 
 
 Not from such stock as this they grew, 
 Who dyed with Punic blood the main, 
 
 The youths who Pyrrhus overthrew, 
 By whom Antiochus was slain ; 
 
 And Hannibal, our country's dread 
 
 And scourge, was sent to join the dead. 
 
 Their sires were country-bred, but knew 
 The sword, as well as plough, to wield, 
 
 And they in manly vigour grew ; 
 
 With Sabine hoe they tilled the field. 
 
 Or brought the firewood to the hall, 
 
 Prompt at the rigorous mother's call. 
 
 And yet by now the sun's decline. 
 
 That makes the mountain shadows grow,
 
 ODES VI. VII.] DELICTA MAJORUM. 113 
 
 Announced at hand the hour benign 
 
 That lets the wearied oxen go, 
 Free from the yoke, to welcome rest, 
 While still his chariot travelled west. 
 
 What can escape Time's cank'ring curse? 
 
 Each age comes fraught with new decay ; 
 Our sons were than our grandsires worse, 
 
 And we, their sons, are worse than they; 
 Our sons in turn, it is their fate, 
 Will prove still more degenerate. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Quid fles, Asterie? 
 
 Why all these tears, Asterie, 
 For Gyges? Early Spring, 
 
 With zephyrs blowing fair for thee. 
 Will Gyges homeward bring 
 
 Rich with Bithynian wares, a youth 
 
 Whose heart is constancy and truth. 
 
 To Oricum, the gales that blow 
 
 From out the southern skies, 
 
 After the Goatstars' frenzied glow. 
 
 Have driv'n him : there he lies 
 H
 
 114 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 All these long winter nights, there keeps 
 Awake to think of thee, and weeps. 
 
 And thither from his hostess came 
 
 A post with anxious tale, 
 How for thy lover all aflame 
 
 Is Chloe : to prevail. 
 He pleads the wretched woman's sighs j 
 A thousand cunning tricks he tries. 
 
 He tells how by his lying wife 
 
 Proetus was hurried on. 
 Believing her, to seek the life 
 
 Of chaste Bellerophon; 
 Too chaste, he hints, the crafty knave ! 
 False charges dug that early grave. 
 
 He tells how nearly Peleus went 
 
 Below, because he fled 
 Hippolyta, and continent 
 
 Withstood her; men are led 
 To sin by stories like to these. 
 Seductive, guileful histories. 
 
 In vain ! Thy Gyges cares no more 
 
 For all the knave can urge 
 Than rocks on the Icarian shore, 
 
 All deaf to sounding surge ;
 
 ODES VII. viii.] QUID FLES, ASTERIE? 115 
 
 But thou ! Enipeus pleads ; he's near ; 
 Take care he does not grow too dear ! 
 
 Take care ! so deftly can he ride, 
 
 His match is nowhere seen ; 
 No hand like his a steed can guide 
 
 Across the Martial green ; 
 No one the wave so lightly skims, 
 And down the Tuscan channel swims. 
 
 Shut up the house when daylight falls ; 
 
 If fifes squeal ^ in the streets 
 Do not look down, and though he calls 
 
 You cruel, and repeats 
 His scolding often, let him find 
 His words quite true ; remain unkind. 
 
 VHI. 
 
 Martiis caelcbs. 
 
 You wonder I, a bachelor, 
 These flowers, this box of incense, bear, 
 Why coal on live-turf altar there. 
 This first of March I lay, 
 
 ^ " And when you hear the drum 
 And the vile squeahng of the wry-ncck'd fife." 
 
 Alerchant of Venice (Cambridge Text.)
 
 ii6 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 You Greek and Latin Scholar ! I, 
 When the tree fell, was like to die, 
 And vowed a white goat to supply 
 For Liber's feast to-day. 
 
 As every year the day I keep, 
 A cork shall from its wine-jar leap, 
 Sealed and laid by in smoke to steep, 
 In TuUus' consulate. 
 
 Then quaff, Maecenas, since your friend 
 Is safe, a hundred cups, nor end 
 Till day put out your lamps, nor blend 
 With feasting noise and hate. 
 
 Let all state cares and business go ; 
 The band of Dacian Cotiso 
 Is slain ; the Mede, to self a foe, 
 In civil strife contends ; 
 
 Our old Cantabrian foe in Spain 
 Accepts, though late, the Roman chain ; 
 The Scyth no more will scour the plain, 
 His bow he now unbends. 
 
 A private citizen may see 
 A public grief, and let it be ; 
 Then leave all care, and take with glee 
 The gifts the present sends.
 
 ODES vm. IX.] DONEC GRATUS ERAM. uy 
 
 IX. 
 
 Donee gratus eram. 
 
 " As long as I was dear to thee, 
 
 And no more favoured youth had right, 
 Around that neck of snowy white, 
 A pair of lover's arms to fling, 
 I throve, and my felicity 
 
 Was more than that of Persian king." 
 
 " As long as for no maid but me 
 
 Thou wert consumed with inward flame, 
 And did'st not let thy Lydia's name 
 By that of Chloe be displaced, 
 I throve, and Lydia's dignity 
 
 Was more than Roman Ilia graced." 
 
 " Chloe of Thrace is now my fair, 
 Who on the lyre so deftly plays, 
 So sweetly sings her roundelays, 
 For whom to die I would not dread, 
 If the three Sisters would but spare 
 The girl to live when I am dead." 
 
 " Calais now, of Thurium, heir 
 To Ornytus, has lit a torch 
 Of love, himself and me to scorch ;
 
 ii8 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 For him I'd twice to death be led, 
 If the three Sisters would but spare 
 The boy to live when I am dead." 
 
 " What if the old love should return, 
 
 And those who have been torn apart 
 Be re-united heart to heart, 
 In yoke as strong as brass, once more? 
 And golden Chloe I should spurn, 
 To jilted Lydia ope the door." 
 
 " Why then, although no star can burn 
 So bright as he in heaven above; 
 Though lighter than a cork thy love, 
 Thy temper worse than raging sea, 
 To thee my love would all return; 
 With thee I'd live, I'd die with thee." 
 
 X. 
 
 Extremum Taiiain. 
 
 If, Lyce, distant Don supplied 
 
 The water that you drink; 
 Though there with savage mate allied, 
 
 You still would weep, to think 
 That stretched before your doors unkind, 
 I shivered in your northern wind.
 
 ODES IX. X.] EXTREMUM TANAIN. n^ 
 
 You hear yourself the creaking door, 
 
 You hear the grove of trees, 
 Amid fair buildings planted, roar 
 
 And bellow with the breeze; 
 You see beneath Jove's open skies 
 The very snow freeze as it lies. 
 
 Renounce this pride by love abhorred, 
 
 Or you may find it true, 
 That, as the wheel runs back, the cord 
 
 Runs with it, backward too; 
 Your Tuscan father, in his brood. 
 Got no Penelope or prude. 
 
 And oh, though gifts nor prayers prevail 
 
 On you, nor lovers' vows, 
 Who sue with cheeks as violets pale; 
 
 Though careless that your spouse 
 Confesses how his heart is won 
 By a false girl from Macedon ; 
 
 Though harder than an oak to bend, 
 
 Unkind as Moorish snake. 
 Yet to a suppliant's prayer attend, 
 
 And some slight pity take ; 
 These sides of mine can bear no more 
 This cruel drenching at your door.
 
 ,2o ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Mercuri, nam te. 
 
 O great Song-master Mercury ! — 
 For apt Amphion learnt of Thee 
 To move e'en stones by minstrelsy ! — 
 And thou, O seven-stringed shell, 
 
 Once mute, nor loved ! now welcome where 
 Rich men for feasting meet or prayer, 
 For Lyde's stubborn ears prepare 
 A song, a moving spell ! 
 
 Like filly scampering o'er the plain, 
 A three-year-old, so she the rein 
 Resents, and suitors all in vain 
 Woo one too young to wed. 
 
 But thou canst tigers, ay ! and woods 
 Woo to thy side, and rapid floods 
 Canst stay ; and,— spite of all the broods 
 Of snakes that guard his head, 
 
 * 
 
 And that foul foaming mouth, whence three 
 Fierce tongues protrude, — the monster, he 
 That guards hell's gate, was charmed by thee 
 To yield, nor offer harm.
 
 ODE XI.] MERCURI, NAM TE. 121 
 
 Yes, and Ixion, spite of pain, 
 And Tityos too, to smile was fain, 
 The Danaids let their urn remain 
 Unfilled, song has such charm ! 
 
 Tell Lyde of them, of the vase 
 In which the water never stays 
 But runs away; how doom delays, 
 But follows soon or late 
 
 The guilty e'en to hell. O call 
 Them impious, impious were they all. 
 To stab their husbands, watch them fall ; 
 Was ever crime so great? 
 
 But one, of wedlock worthy, one 
 A maiden famed while time shall run. 
 Her perjured parent did not shun 
 To cheat : O splendid lie ! 
 
 " Rise," to her youthful mate she cries, 
 " Or too long sleep will close those eyes, 
 A gift from unknown enemies; 
 O from my father fly, 
 
 " And sisters ! lionesses they ! 
 Alas ! each one now tears her prey ; 
 But I am gentler. Could I slay 
 My mate or chain him, I !
 
 122 ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 " My sire, because I pity showed, 
 I care not, may with fetters load, 
 Or ship me off to far abode, 
 In fields Numidians sow; 
 
 " Go you where foot or breeze shall bear, 
 While night and love lend omen fair, 
 And on my tomb, in grateful care, 
 Engrave my tale of woe." 
 
 XII. 
 
 Miseranim est neqice. 
 
 Hapless maidens ! love they may. 
 
 But dare not let their love have play, 
 
 Nor in sweet wine their care allay, 
 
 Lest when an uncle's tongue they hear. 
 
 Like beaten things they die of fear, 
 
 O Neobule, your employ 
 
 Is gone, for Venus' winged boy 
 
 Has robbed you. First your basket went^ 
 
 And then your web ; and you content 
 
 Sit idle, and no longer ply 
 
 Minerva's busy industry. 
 
 'Tis Hebrus who must bear the blame. 
 
 Bright boy ! from Lipara he came ;
 
 ODES XI. -XIII.] MISERARUM EST NEQUE. 123 
 
 And scarcely had he time to lave 
 His shining limbs in Tiber's wave, 
 You saw him, and the harm was done. 
 For better than Bellerophon 
 He rides ; and with his hands and feet, 
 If he contends, 'tis still to beat. 
 In hunting 'tis the same ; across 
 The open plain he's ne'er at loss. 
 The stag once started, with an aim 
 That never fails, he marks his game. 
 Or if the boar has found a lair 
 In some close thicket, quick he's there, 
 Nor can the wood, however deep. 
 His quarry from this huntsman keep. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 O fans Bandusiae. 
 
 O fountain of Bandusia, spring 
 
 Than brightest crystal still more bright. 
 
 Sweet wine were thy due offering, 
 
 A goblet crowned with flowers thy right. 
 
 To-morrow I a kid present, 
 
 A ram, whose horns just budding, show 
 He is for love and battle meant. 
 
 Should the young creature live and grow.
 
 124 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 Vain is the youthful promise, vain ; 
 
 For thy cool stream must crimson run, 
 His blood thy limpid wave must stain : 
 
 His sport among the herd is done. 
 
 The dog-days' sun, at fiercest noon. 
 
 Can reach thee with no scorching heat; 
 
 Cool fount, to wearied ox a boon, 
 To wand'ring sheep a sweet retreat. 
 
 'Mid founts of fame thy fame shall be 
 A fame secure, since now I sing, 
 
 I sing the rocks and ilex tree, 
 
 From which thy babbling freshets spring. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Herculis ritu. 
 
 " Like Hercules, he went away," 
 Rome lately cried, " the martyr's bay 
 To buy, but victor home to-day 
 
 Great Caesar comes from Spain." 
 
 Go meet thy lord, glad wife and true. 
 And with our general's sister do 
 The sacred office; matrons you. 
 
 With suppliant wreaths, in train.
 
 ODES xin. XIV.] HERCULIS RITU. 125 
 
 Give thanks for children safe from strife; 
 Boys, girls, all new to wedded life, 
 Let no ill-omened words be rife, 
 When you the chief attend. 
 
 This feast will chase dark care from me ; 
 While Caesar holds the world in fee, 
 I dread no rabble mob to see, 
 I fear no violent end. 
 
 Fetch crowns and unguents, boy, and ask 
 If from the Marsian war a cask 
 Was left, or at the least a flask. 
 By roving Spartacus. 
 
 And bid clear-voiced Neaera bind 
 Her scented hair in haste, and mind 
 You run away, if that unkind 
 Old porter makes a fuss. 
 
 We gentler grow as hair grows grey, 
 Young blood is hot and keen for fray. 
 Were it in Consul Plancus' day 
 I had not borne it thus.
 
 1 26 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Uxor pauperis Ibyci. 
 
 You, wife of needy Ibycus, 
 
 Should give these ways so naughty o'er, 
 They only make you infamous, 
 
 As death draws nearer to your door. 
 
 Then leave the maidens to their play. 
 Nor fleck their starlight with your cloud 
 
 What Pholoe your daughter may, 
 You cannot, Chloris, be allowed. 
 
 Storming at young men's doors, to wit, 
 Like Thyad mad at timbrel's sound, 
 
 Or, by the love of Nothus smit. 
 
 Like some young wanton kid to bound. 
 
 Put harp and glossy rose aside. 
 
 Nor to its wine dregs drain the jar; 
 
 Keep to your wools, Luceria's pride. 
 They suit you, beldame that you are.
 
 ODH8 XV. XVI.] INCLUSAM DANAEN. 127 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Indusam Danaen. 
 
 Caged Danae ! her tower of brass, 
 
 The sturdy doors, the surly bark 
 
 Of dogs that watch throughout the dark, 
 And let no midnight lover pass ; 
 
 These might have kept her safe from all \ 
 
 Acrisius dreaded would befall. 
 
 But Jove and Venus laughed to see 
 
 His bolts and bars ; full well the pair 
 
 Knew how to reach the hidden fair, 
 And how to open passage free; 
 
 'Twas but for Jove — gods have the power — 
 
 To change into a golden shower. 
 
 Gold makes its way where'er it likes ; 
 
 Through all your posted guards it goes, 
 
 Stronger than thunderbolts its blows ; I 
 
 The rocks burst open where it strikes ; ( 
 
 The Argive who the future told \ 
 
 Was lost, and all his house, through gold. V 
 
 By bribes the man of Macedon 
 The gates of cities opened wide ; 
 By gold, perfidiously applied,
 
 128 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 Their power from rival kings he won ; 
 Bribe high enough, no money spare, 
 Rough naval captains you may snare. 
 
 Care follows riches when they grow, 
 And appetite for more. Shall I 
 Do wrong to shrink from lifting high 
 
 A crest that might become the show 
 Of crowds that hail you with delight, 
 Their order's crown, Maecenas, knight ! 
 
 The more a man himself deny, 
 
 The more the Gods will give. For me, 
 
 Stripped of all superfluity, 
 I to Contentment camp will hie, 
 
 Deserting now the rich man's side. 
 
 For scorn of money is my pride. 
 
 Not pride alone, but splendid gain; 
 
 By scorn of wealth made lord of more, 
 
 Than if upon my granary floor 
 I hoarded all Apulia's plain 
 
 Can yield to the industrious boor, 
 
 And 'mid great riches still were poor. 
 
 I ask not much : a limpid stream, 
 A wood some acres broad, a field 
 That promises a crop to yield
 
 ODES XVI. XVII.] INCLUSAM DANAEN, 129 
 
 And will not cheat ; with these I seem, 
 Howe'er he in delusion rest, 
 Than Afric's glittering lord more blest. 
 
 Calabria's bees no honey make 
 
 For me, nor Laestrygonian vase 
 
 Mellows my wine ; from flocks that graze 
 In Gaul I never fleeces take; 
 
 What, then? there's something in my store; 
 
 No urgent need knocks at my door. 
 
 Did I need more, you'd not refuse 
 
 To give me all I might require; 
 
 I find, by narrowing my desire, 
 I stretch my little revenues. 
 
 More than by joining Mygdon's plain 
 
 To Alyattes' wide domain. 
 
 For greed and need together go. 
 
 Ask many things, you many want. 
 
 He only his estate may vaunt 
 As blest, when God has ordered so. 
 
 That from His frugal hand proceeds 
 
 Enough to meet all daily needs.
 
 130 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Aeli vetusto. 
 
 Aelius ! from a stock of worth 
 
 You get your ancient name ; 
 The earhest Lamias trace their birth 
 
 To Lamus, whence there came 
 All other Lamias that we see 
 Recorded in the pedigree. 
 
 Or so they tell; you past a doubt 
 
 Are of that founder's race 
 Who first, 'tis said, as prince, about 
 
 Wall'd Formiae, o'er a space 
 As wide as to the Liris, swayed. 
 Whose waves Marica's shores invade. 
 
 To-morrow from the East will bring 
 
 A storm our woodlands o'er, 
 Strew all the ground with leaves, and fling 
 
 Vile sea-weed on the shore; 
 Unless the crow has croaked in vain, 
 That long-lived prophet of the rain. 
 
 Fetch in dry wood then while 'tis fine ; 
 To-morrow, you may take
 
 ODES XVII. xviii.] AELI VETUSTO. 131 
 
 Your ease and soothe your heart with wine, 
 
 With genial wine, and make 
 A feast — a two-months' pig may slay — 
 And all your house keep holiday. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Faiine, Nympharum. 
 
 O Faunus, wooing Nymphs that flee, 
 Traverse my grounds, this sunny lea, 
 Indulgent, and departing be 
 
 To my young herds benign ; 
 If yearly a young kid is slain, 
 With scents old altars smoke again. 
 Nor love's boon comrade ask in vain, 
 
 The bowl, its fill of wine. 
 
 Oft as December brings your day, 
 On green sward all our cattle play. 
 Townsmen to meadows take their way, 
 
 And with their oxen rest \ 
 Wolves amid lambs undreaded go. 
 Their leaves woods in your pathway throw. 
 And on the ground, else hated so. 
 
 The diggers dance with zest.
 
 132 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Quantum distet ab Inacho. 
 
 What years since Inachus went by 
 Till Codrus for his country fell ; — 
 
 This, and the genealogy 
 
 Of Aeacus, you love to tell, 
 
 And of the wars that raged below 
 
 Troy's sacred walls, you make us know. 
 
 But what a cask of Chian wine 
 
 Should cost us, or what hand should heat 
 The water for us when we dine. 
 
 Or at whose house we are to meet. 
 Or when from this Pelignian cold 
 I shall be saved, we are not told. 
 
 Quick, boy, some wine ! we are to toast 
 The midnight, and the moon now new, 
 
 And pledge Muraena, who can boast 
 The Augur's insight. Measure true 
 
 Nine cups of water, three of wine. 
 
 Or else reverse as tastes incline. 
 
 The lovers of the Nine, the bards 
 
 Who live in raptures, three times three
 
 ODE XIX.] QUANTUM DISTET AB INACHO. 133 
 
 Of wine will ask ; the Grace awards 
 
 But three of wine, no more, for she 
 And her two bare-limbed sisters dread 
 The quarrels that of wine are bred. 
 
 I love to play the madman. Why- 
 Does no one blow the Phrygian flute? 
 
 Why does the pipe hang silent by 
 The lyre, its comrade, also mute? 
 
 The hand that's niggard I detest. 
 
 Scatter me roses ! Play with zest ! 
 
 What matter if the din we raise 
 
 Rouse Lycus there beside our gate? 
 
 Envious old man ' whose failing days 
 Are ill-matched with a youthful mate. 
 
 Not ill-matched, Telephus, for you 
 
 Is Rhode, and she comes to woo. 
 
 She loves that shining head, with hair 
 
 That in thick clusters downwards streams ; 
 
 She thinks it like the star, whose fair 
 And radiant light at evening gleams ; 
 
 I still love Glycera, nor tire 
 
 Of my one slow-consuming fire.
 
 134 ODES OF HORACE. [book iik 
 
 XX. 
 
 Non vides, quanto. 
 
 O see you not what risk you run ? 
 
 Gaetulian lioness ! to try 
 To steal her whelps ! It won't be done 
 
 Without hard fighting ; by-and-by 
 His life the ravisher will save 
 By flight, and feel in no way brave. 
 
 When through the bands of youths that bar 
 Her road she goes, to find again 
 
 Handsome Naearchus, O the war ! 
 
 Dread war, whose issue must make plain 
 
 Which is to win of rivals two, 
 
 Which gain more booty, she or you. 
 
 Meantime while both are ready dight, 
 Yoit aiming arrows swift to slay. 
 
 She whetting teeth so fierce to bite ; 
 The umpire of the fight, they say, 
 
 Stands with one naked foot displayed, 
 
 And on the prize of victory laid, 
 
 And lets refreshing breezes blow 
 Upon each shoulder, while his hair,
 
 ODES XX. XXI.] NON VIDES, QUANTO. 
 
 In scented tresses streaming low, 
 
 Makes him the look of Nireus wear ; 
 Or with that other to be matched, 
 From " many-fountained Ida" snatched. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 O nata mecum. 
 
 O wine jar, you and I can date 
 Our birthday from one year, 
 
 The year of Manlius' consulate. 
 And this would make you dear, 
 
 Whatever potency there dwell 
 
 In that old wine you keep so well. 
 
 For bring you plaint, or bring you jest, 
 
 Madden to love and fray. 
 Or soothe our drowsy sense to rest. 
 
 Dear jar, how glad the day 
 That bids us to the table bring 
 Your Massic, so long mellowing ! 
 
 Corvinus calls for you : a man 
 
 Steeped in Socratic lore, 
 And yet he does not drinking ban, 
 
 Nor churlish pass you o'er : 
 
 OD
 
 136 ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 E'en antique Cato, as we hear, 
 
 With wine that sterHng heart would cheer. 
 
 O jar, you have a kindly sting, 
 
 For natures else morose, 
 Mirth-making wine away can fling 
 
 The veil, which hides so close 
 Those thoughts that till a tongue they find 
 Press heavy on the wise man's mind. 
 
 Hope you restore to souls in dread ; 
 
 Strength to the weak supply ; 
 As 'twere with horns, the poor man's head 
 
 'Gainst wrongs you fortify ; 
 No angry monarch's crest he fears 
 When he has drunk, nor warriors' spears. 
 
 O jar, the nights with you we'll see ! 
 
 With Liber ! be she bland 
 With Venus ! and the Graces three, 
 
 So loth to loose their band ! 
 Our torches never shall die out, 
 Till Phoebus puts the stars to rout.
 
 ODEsxxi.-xxin.] MONTIUM GUSTOS. 137 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Montium custos. 
 
 Guardian of hills and woods, O maid, 
 
 Young wives in labour ask thine aid. 
 
 To three-formed Goddess prayer thrice said 
 
 Will save from deadly throe ; 
 Thine be the pine that rises o'er 
 My roof, and every year shall pour 
 His offering of blood, a boar 
 
 Planning the sidelong blow. 
 
 XXITI. 
 
 Caelo supinas. 
 
 If, rustic Phidyle, you turn. 
 
 As each new moon is born, 
 Your open hands to heaven, and burn 
 
 Sweet incense, offering corn 
 New-grown, and well-stuffed porker, prayer 
 Will reach the Gods, and win their care. 
 
 Your fruitful vines will never know 
 The fierce Scirocco's spite,
 
 138 ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 Your cornland all its crops will grow, 
 
 Nor mildew fear nor blight; 
 Nor will the sickly Autumn harm 
 The tender younglings of your farm. 
 
 On snowy Algid us at graze, 
 
 Where ilex grows and oak, 
 Or in rich Alban pasture, strays, 
 
 All ready for the stroke, 
 Which soon the Pontiff's axe must stain, 
 A victim destined to be slain. 
 
 Not such your household Gods demand ; 
 
 For them no sheep must die ; 
 But where their little statues stand, 
 
 Bring wreaths of rosemary, 
 And this with fragile myrtle twine. 
 To crown those images divine. 
 
 Pure hands upon their altars place. 
 
 You turn their wrath aside 
 E'en more than if to win their crrace 
 
 A costly victim died ; 
 For meal and salt with crackling grain, 
 Those pure hands cannot pour in vain.
 
 ODE XXIV.] INTACTIS OPULENTIOR. 139 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Ititnctis opiilentior. 
 
 Though more than India's wealth you boast, 
 Than untouched Arab hoards contain, 
 And though your piles the Apulian^ main 
 
 And Tuscan filled from coast to coast, 
 
 Yet, if Necessity, stern power, 
 
 Just as your walls attain their height, 
 With nails of adamantine might, 
 
 Should fix her roof upon your tower, 
 
 With all your wealth you could not snatch 
 Your soul from fear, nor extricate 
 Your head from death, which, soon or late. 
 
 Must all things in its meshes catch. 
 
 Far rather would I, on his plain, 
 With the nomadic Scythian roam, 
 Who, wont to wander, takes his home 
 
 Still with him in his wandering wain. 
 
 Far better life the Getan shares, 
 
 Who does not call the field his own, 
 That for the common good is sown, 
 
 For common good its harvest bears 
 
 ^Reading " Tyrrhenum, Apulicum."
 
 I40 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 For one year, and then claims its rest. 
 
 The labourer, on these terms, remits 
 
 To other hands the task he quits. 
 Stepchildren there are not oppressed 
 
 By those who hold their mothers' place; 
 
 Nor does the wife assume the power 
 
 At home, in virtue of her dower, 
 Nor trust a false and smiling face ; 
 
 For she the best of dowers has brought, 
 
 The virtue of a virtuous race. 
 
 And chastity that shuns disgrace. 
 And shrinks from e'en a lawless thought 
 
 ^s' 
 
 Of other men; for there, the wife 
 
 Who breaks her marriage vow, commits 
 A sin so heinous, it befits 
 
 She pay the forfeit with her life. 
 
 He who proposes as his end 
 
 The course of impious strife to stay, 
 And civic madness to allay, 
 
 Thinking his name may thus descend 
 
 To be by after-comers read 
 
 Around his statue's base engraved, 
 " Father of cities " ;— if he braved 
 
 Lax licence towering to a head,
 
 ODE XXIV.] INTACTIS OPULENTIOR. 141 
 
 His may be this late-rendered fame, 
 Grudged him before; for virtue, we, 
 When living, envy ; when we see 
 
 Her passed away, her worth proclaim. 
 
 What good can sad laments attend. 
 Unless some retribution keen 
 Cut short our crime? For vain, I ween, 
 
 Are laws that cannot morals mend. 
 
 If all for greed our merchants face 
 The lands that burning heats enclose. 
 Or go where, next eternal snows. 
 
 The north wind has his dwelling-place ; 
 
 If dangers that at sea appal. 
 
 The sailors craft and skill surmount ; 
 If all men poverty account 
 
 The greatest shame that can befall ; 
 
 And rather than endure it, will 
 Inflict or suffer any hurt, 
 While they the road of right desert 
 
 That mounts the steep and arduous hill ; 
 
 Then vain indeed our laws ! But we. 
 
 We have a duty to the state, 
 
 Ill-gotten wealth to confiscate. 
 If genuine our repentance be.
 
 142 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 Away then to the Capitol ! 
 
 The people shout, the crowd applauds, 
 With gold and gems and useless gauds, 
 
 Or let the nearest waters roll 
 
 Above the source of all our ill 
 And drown it, for the base desire 
 Of gain will not itself expire; 
 
 Its roots we must force out and kill. 
 
 To natures tender and inclined 
 
 To be unmanly, best apply 
 
 Some firmness and stability, 
 By duties of a sterner kind. 
 
 Your modern well-born boy is raw, 
 And quite unversed in manly ways ; 
 He dare not ride nor hunt, but plays 
 
 At hoop or dice, against the law. 
 
 Nor strange, — his sire can violate 
 
 Each sworn engagement, cheat and lie. 
 Break ties of hospitality, 
 
 And all to heap at rapid rate 
 
 A pile of wealth for sordid heir ! 
 The filthy lucre grows, but yet 
 He always thinks he more must get, 
 
 Or leave a somewhat maimed affair.
 
 ODE XXV.] QUO ME, BACCHE, RAPIS? 143 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Quo me, Bacc/ie, rapis? 
 
 I follow, Bacchus, filled with Thee! 
 
 But whither dost thou lead? 
 What woods are these to which I flee } 
 
 What caves to which I speed? 
 Onward to eager motion pressed 
 By this strange passion in my breast? 
 
 Where'er these grots, a song shall rise, 
 By which the world shall know 
 
 A new star planted in the skies, 
 Great Caesar's fame, to grow 
 
 A splendour 'midst the lights above, 
 
 And in the council-hall of Jove. 
 
 Yes, I will tell a peerless tale, 
 
 A tale no lips have told ; 
 For as some frenzied Bacchanal, 
 
 Whose wakeful eyes behold 
 Hebrus, and Rhodope, where pace 
 But foreign feet, and snowy Thrace. 
 
 She raves with wonder and delight, 
 So roam I in this mood,
 
 144 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 And gloat o'er every country sight, 
 
 Stream, bank, and lonely wood. 
 O leader of the Naiad bands ! 
 Of Bacchae with their woman hands, 
 
 Yet strong the towering ash to rend ! 
 
 Song more than man's I dare. 
 Ye who the winepress god attend, 
 
 Of feeble strains beware ! 
 'Tis rash, yet sweet, to watch him twine 
 Around his brows the verdant vine. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Vixi puellis. 
 
 I lived, and not so Igng ago, 
 
 For girls, and won renown, 
 Love's soldier, apt to meet the foe ; 
 
 But now, my weapons down 
 I've laid; — sword, spear, and lyre and all. 
 Their battles done, must line the wall. 
 
 On this left wall, here, hang them here. 
 
 In sea-born Venus' shrine ! 
 Hang up the torch that burns so clear, 
 
 The crowbars that combine
 
 ODES XXV. -XX VII.] VIXI I'UELLIS. 145 
 
 With bows, whene'er they threaten war 
 To doors that lovers' passage bar. 
 
 O (loddess, Queen of Cyprus, blest. 
 
 And Memphis free from snow 
 Sithonian, hear my last request, 
 
 With lifted whip one blow 
 Give Chloe, just one blow ; the pain 
 May cure her of her proud disdain. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Impios parrae. 
 
 Let omens that misfortune bode 
 Attend, if I may have my will, 
 
 The impious, when they take the road : 
 The screech-owl's cry repeated shrill, 
 
 A pregnant bitch, a fox with young, 
 
 A grey wolf from Lanuvium sprung. 
 
 And after starting, as they ride, 
 Let signs unlucky still dismay : 
 
 A serpent like an arrow glide. 
 
 From side to side, across the way, 
 
 And make their nags with terror shy ; 
 
 Keen to observe such signs am I. 
 
 K
 
 146 ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 And so, since one, for whom I fear. 
 Must travel, e'er the bird, whose cries 
 
 Predict that heavy rains are near. 
 Back to the stagnant marshes flies, 
 
 The raven with prophetic croak 
 
 I from the Eastern skies invoke. 
 
 O Galatea, happy be. 
 
 And, where it likes you, make your home, 
 But, everywhere, remember me. 
 
 And then good luck will surely come, 
 Nor boding pie forbid to go 
 Whene'er you start, nor vagrant crow. 
 
 But look in what a troubled sky 
 
 Orion sinks to find his rest ; 
 There's mischief brewing. Well know I 
 
 What means that white streak in the west, 
 Whence blows the wind ; and what portends 
 The night on Hadria that descends. 
 
 Let foemen's wives and children feel. 
 Not you and I, the blind turmoil, 
 
 When all things in the tempest reel, 
 And rising Auster makes a coil 
 
 Amid the darkened waves that roar 
 
 And beat upon the trembling shore.
 
 ODE XXVII.] IMI'IOS TARRAE. ' 147 
 
 Europa thus her limbs of snow 
 
 Entrusted to the treacherous bull, 
 Over the watery waste to go, 
 
 With dread sea-monsters seething full. 
 And daring as she was, grew pale 
 At what might in the road assail. 
 
 But late, intent on meadow flowers, 
 
 And weaving for the Nymphs their due — 
 
 A rosy crown — she passed the hours 
 Till night shut all else out from view 
 
 Save stars, and waters glimmering white 
 
 Betwixt the darkness and the light. 
 
 But scarcely on the shores of Crete, 
 
 With her twice fifty cities strong. 
 Had she, unhappy, set her feet, 
 
 Than into words flamed all her wrong : 
 " O Father ! dare I name that name ? 
 O love, which frenzy overcame ! 
 
 "Whence have I come, and where? To die, 
 
 But once to die, could not atone 
 For loss of maiden purity ! 
 
 But am I waking? Do I moan 
 An actual sin? Or do I dream, 
 And, though cjuite guiltless, guilty seem ?
 
 148 ODES OF HORACE. [book. in. 
 
 " Phantoms may cheat us flying through 
 
 The ivory gateway. But, for me, 
 Which was the better? to pursue 
 
 My journey o'er the boundless sea? 
 Or wander, as in earlier hours, 
 And pluck the newly-opened flowers? 
 
 " Would someone, while my wrath is strong, 
 Bring me the creature that I hate, 
 The steer that wrought me grievous wrong. 
 
 Whom yet I loved so much, so late ; 
 I'd try what steel and hands could do 
 Those horns from off his head to hew. 
 
 " Shameless, I left the Oods of home ! 
 
 Shameless, I shun the Gods below ! 
 Ah I if to any dod should come 
 
 The words I speak, ' O let me go ' — 
 This is the death I crave, 'and walk 
 Unguarded, where the lions stalk.' 
 
 " Yes ! ere defacing waste should wear 
 My frame, and wanness come to stain 
 These cheeks, these limbs so passing fair, 
 And from the prey its freshness drain ; 
 Yes, ere my form its beauty lose, 
 To feed the tigers I would choose."
 
 ODK XXVII.] IMPIOS I'ARRAE. 149 
 
 Then, vile Europa, why delay? 
 
 Your absent sire your death demands ; 
 Hang yourself on this ash, and slay 
 
 Yourself with your own guilty hands ; 
 Your girdle — for you have it still — 
 This last sad office may fulfil. 
 
 Or if these pointed rocks below 
 
 Offer a death you would prefer, 
 Leap quick ! and let the storm-wind blow 
 
 You deathward ; else yourself prepare 
 To go, blood-royal to degrade, 
 As foreign lady's waiting-maid. 
 
 And Venus, with her treacherous smile, 
 And Cupid, with his bow unbent. 
 
 Mock at her weeping all the while ; 
 Till sated with their merriment : 
 " These words of angry passion spare. 
 
 Till the bull give his horns to tear. 
 
 1-1' 
 
 *' What, know you not you are the mate 
 Of sovereign Jove? No longer sigh. 
 But learn to bear your high estate 
 
 With all becoming dignity; 
 One half the globe will wear your name, 
 One half the globe preserve your fame."
 
 i^o ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Festo quid pot ins die ? 
 
 ' Tis Neptune's feast-day ; what had best be done ? 
 
 Lyde, the Caecuban I stored so well, 
 Go, broach a cask ; don't fear to let it run ; 
 
 Lay siege to wisdom in her citadel. 
 
 You see, the afternoon begins to die ; 
 
 And yet, as if the wing'd hours stay'd, you stay, 
 And let the bottle, like a laggard, lie 
 
 Where it, when Bibulus was consul, lay. 
 
 But here it comes! By turns we two will sing; 
 
 Of Neptune I, and Nereids' sea-green hair; 
 You to Latona your curved lyre shall string. 
 
 And Cynthia's darts that swiftly cleave the air. 
 
 Then to her fame our last joint song shall rise 
 Who Cnidus haunts, and gleaming Cyclades. 
 
 Or with her team of swans to Paphos hies ; 
 
 Night, too, with her due sonnets we will praise. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Tyrrhena reguin. 
 
 O scion of the Tuscan line 
 Of kings, Maecenas, I for you
 
 ODE XXIX.] TVRRHENA REGUM. 151 
 
 Have kept a cask of mellow wine 
 
 Unbroached, and there are roses, too, 
 And oil — that sort that is so rare — 
 Distilled expressly for your hair. 
 
 All these have waited long; then why 
 Make more delay? Shall Tibur still 
 
 With its moist prospect please your eye. 
 Or Aefula's corn-covered hill? 
 
 Are you content those heights to view, 
 
 Where Telegon his father slew ? 
 
 Your sumptuous home must sometimes pall, 
 Those buildings to the clouds you pile, 
 
 You must grow weary of them all ; 
 Then leave them for a little while ; 
 
 Leave Rome, its smoke, and wealth, and noise, 
 
 And come to look for other joys. 
 
 Rich men are mostly fond of change. 
 
 And oft have smoothed the brow of care 
 
 At poor men's meals, to them so strange, 
 And neatly-served but homely fare. 
 
 The couch with no rich purple spread ; 
 
 The board, no awnings overhead. 
 
 Now does the lately hidden star 
 Of Cepheus clearly show his flame
 
 152 ODES OF HORACE. [book in. 
 
 And those two other fires that are 
 
 Wild beasts in madness and in name, 
 The Lion and the Dog's Compeer, 
 Which tell that days of drought are near. 
 
 Now, with his weary flock, the shade 
 The weary shepherd seeks, or stream. 
 
 Or wanders listless to the glade 
 Of rough Silvanus, there- to dream 
 
 Of silent banks where winds should play 
 
 With cooling gusts denied to-day. 
 
 Yet you with anxious care must plan 
 Some new improvement for the State, 
 
 Or all the city's outlook scan, 
 Some danger to anticipate 
 
 From China, Cyrus' realm, or where 
 
 Upon the Don they war prepare. 
 
 Heaven's wisdom all the future hides 
 Beneath a night all dark with cloud. 
 
 And that poor mortal's wit derides 
 Who strives to pass the ken allowed ; 
 
 Arrange for, this is in your power, 
 
 With tranquil mind, the present hour. 
 
 And all the rest we cannot see 
 Flows onward, as the river flows;
 
 ODE XXIX.] TYRRHENA REGUM. 153 
 
 Now in mid channel peaceably 
 
 To join the Tuscan sea it goes; 
 Anon it sweeps with torrent force 
 All daring to impede its course. 
 
 Rocks, that slow-eating waves have worn, 
 
 Houses and cattle, side by side. 
 Trees, with their very roots uptorn. 
 
 Go rolling with the rolling tide. 
 With noises in the woods and hills, 
 When the wild deluge chafes the rills. 
 
 *' Serene will be his days' and bright," 
 Who, master of himself, can say. 
 At every fading of the light, 
 
 "To-day I've lived, I've lived to-day"; 
 Be skies to-morrow overcast 
 Or sunny, what is past is past. 
 
 Not Jupiter himself can make 
 
 What has been as it had not been, 
 
 Or from the sum of actions take 
 The good or ill each day has seen ; 
 
 The hour flies by, and carries all 
 
 That made it rich, beyond recall. 
 
 Fortune that loves to vex and spite, 
 Bent her capricious game to play,
 
 154 ODES OF HORACE. [book hi. 
 
 To shift her favours takes delight, 
 
 Gives as she likes and takes away ; 
 Now I, the next day you, may find, 
 Then someone else, the goddess kind. 
 
 I praise her while she's guest of mine. 
 
 And when she spreads swift wings in flight, 
 
 All that she gave I straight resign, 
 And wrap me in my sense of right. 
 
 Content, if I can honest be, 
 
 To welcome want and poverty. 
 
 When creaks the mast in Afric gale, 
 I shall not need to haste to prayers, 
 
 Nor heaven with anxious vows assail. 
 To bargain, lest my precious wares 
 
 From Tyre and Cyprus swell the gain 
 
 And measure of the greedy main : 
 
 But may, all safe, to some poor boat, 
 A two-oared skiff, myself commend. 
 
 And through Aegean surges float, 
 
 With one soft-blowing breeze my friend, 
 
 And those two brother lights that shine, 
 
 Castor and Pollux, twins divine.
 
 ODE XXX.] EXEGI MONUMExNTU.M. 155 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Exegi niomimentuin. 
 
 'Tis finished, and my work will stay 
 When monuments of bronze decay, 
 Above the pyramids to tower 
 That stand confessing royal power. 
 The biting rain, the northern gale, 
 Though mad to overthrow, will fail ; 
 Ages will fly, uncounted time 
 Bring all its years, nor harm my rhyme. 
 Not all of me will die, nor small 
 The part to 'scape the funeral. 
 Afresh I every age shall grow, 
 By praise which every age will show, 
 Nor while mute maid and priest ascend 
 The Capitol, shall have an end. 
 Where Aufid's raging waters roar. 
 And where in rainless lands, of yore, 
 Daunus of rustic tribes was king, 
 Mankind will name me, for I sing, 
 A bard grown great from low degree. 
 The first to woo for Italy 
 Aeolian song, and make it known. 
 When set to measures all her own.
 
 1^6 ODES OF HORACE. [book iii. 
 
 Take thou, Melpomene, the praise 
 Of proud success ! For me the bays ! 
 With Delphic bays my hair to twine. 
 If such thy grace, O Muse, be mine !
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 Interfmssa, Venus, diu. 
 
 What, Venus, trying to renew 
 
 The wars whence I, long since, withdrew? 
 
 Oh spare me, I implore, implore. 
 
 What I was once I am no more. 
 
 Say as in Cinara's kind sway ; 
 
 But now, I'm fifty, if a day. 
 
 Desist then, O thou cruel dame, 
 
 Whom the sweet Loves their mother name. 
 
 To try to bend to thy behest, 
 
 So tender, this too stubborn breast. 
 
 But let the young men's prayers prevail, 
 
 And go where they thy presence hail. 
 
 There's PauUus longing thou would'st come 
 
 To hold thy revels in his home, 
 
 There where 'tis fit love's flame to light, 
 
 Thy lustrous swans shall wing thy flight.
 
 1^8 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv, 
 
 Noble is he, of comely mien, 
 One whose good breeding may be seen ; 
 With voice that ne'er declines to plead 
 The cause of those who justice need; 
 A youth too of a hundred arts, 
 That cannot fail to capture hearts, 
 And far and wide to spread thy sway, 
 If once enlisted in thy pay. 
 Let him but once in love prevail. 
 And laugh to see his rival fail, 
 With all his lavish gifts, and Thee, 
 Beneath some spreading citron tree, 
 In stately marble carved, he'll make 
 The Goddess of the Alban Lake. 
 There shall the fragrant incense rise 
 To Thee in clouds, with harmonies 
 Of pipe, and Berecynthian flute. 
 And voices blending with the lute. 
 Here twice a day, with dance and song, 
 Will boys and blooming maids prolong 
 Thy praises, and with gleaming feet 
 The ground in Salian measure beat. 
 But, as for me, I get no joy 
 From company of maid or boy. 
 Nor dare I cherish hope so fond, 
 That hearts to mine will e'er respond. 
 No longer crowned with flowers I sit, 
 And o'er the winecup try my wit ;
 
 ODES 1. II.] INTERiMISSA, VENUS, DIU. j^g 
 
 I've done with these, and love, and all. 
 But have I ? why then does there fall 
 Now and again adown my cheek 
 A tear-drop? Why, when I could speak 
 Just now so well, do I become, 
 To my confusion, shy and dumb? 
 I hold your image, yes, in dreams 
 I hold your image : then, meseems, 
 You fly as though you ran a race 
 Across the Campus ; I in chase 
 Pursue you, cruel, till the sea, 
 Far-rolling, roll you far from me. 
 
 II. 
 
 Findariwi qiiisqiiis. 
 
 Who, lulus, would with Pindar vie. 
 Has learnt of Daedalus to fly 
 On waxen wings, and by-and-by 
 Will name some glassy sea. 
 
 A mountam torrent fed by rain. 
 Which frets till banks no more restrain. 
 So deep-mouthed Pindar pours amain 
 His boundless melody;
 
 i6o ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 In dithyrambic measure bold, 
 His free word-coinage forth is rolled, 
 A verse by number uncontrolled, 
 His Delphic bay to claim ; 
 
 Of Gods or kings his song may tell. 
 By whose just wrath the Centaurs fell ; 
 Gods' sons were they, with power to quell 
 The dread Chimaera's flame. 
 
 Of horse, or boxer, home with prize 
 Elean, lauded to the skies, 
 He sings ; a hundred effigies 
 Were guerdon poorer far ! 
 
 Or young bride weeps ; — an elegy 
 Exalts her lost one's virtues high. 
 His grace, his golden prime — the sky, 
 Not hell, awaits a star. 
 
 The breeze upbears him in its might, 
 Antonius, when in cloudy height 
 The swan Dircean plans a flight ; 
 But as a Matine bee, 
 
 That, robbing thyme of sweets, pursues 
 Its " flowery work " ^ midst Tibur's dews 
 
 '"While the bee with honied thigh, 
 
 That at her flowery work doth sing." 
 
 Milton, 11 Fcnseroso.
 
 ODE 11.] PINDARUM QUISQUIS. i6i 
 
 From bank to grove, my tiny Muse 
 Toils at her poesy. 
 
 But you, whose touch is firm and strong. 
 Make Caesar's well-earned bays your song, 
 And fierce Sygambrians dragged along. 
 And up the Sacred Hill. 
 
 Gift of good Gods, and gift of Fate, 
 Earth till the golden age might wait ■ 
 Till one return more good or great, 
 Nor then its hopes fulfil. 
 
 Of Rome made glad by general play. 
 When Caesar comes home, as we pray. 
 Sing you, of courts, in holiday. 
 Bereft of lawyer's plea. 
 
 I'll sing, if men will hear me sing, 
 My best : " O Sun ! fair Sun ! to bring 
 Our Caesar home ! Hark, how they ring, 
 The Roman streets, with thee ^ 
 
 "Id Triumphe!" he draws near, 
 
 " lo Triumphe ! " Romans cheer, 
 
 Again, again, and then revere 
 
 Kind heaven, and incense strew. 
 
 ' Reading " Teqiie, dum procedit," after Orelli ; and per- 
 sonifying " lo Triumphe" as the person addressed, as well as 
 the cry uttered. 
 
 L
 
 1 62 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 Ten bulls, ten cows, your rites fulfil, 
 But I one tender calf will kill; 
 Of dam forlorn, he grazes till 
 
 My vows to heaven are due ; 
 
 Upon his brow bright curves are shown, 
 A crescent moon but three days grown, 
 With one white spot, and one alone, 
 The rest a tawny hue. 
 
 III. 
 
 Quem til, Melpoinejie. 
 
 He whom, Melpomene, thine eyes 
 Graced with one look on natal day, 
 
 Will ne'er from Isthmian games a prize 
 For brilliant boxing bear away ; 
 
 Nor in Greek car victorious ride. 
 
 And his fleet coursers homeward guide. 
 
 Nor will it be his lot to bring 
 
 From tented field a triumph home, 
 
 For crushing some too haughty king 
 
 Whose swollen pride had menaced Rome, 
 
 And crowned with Delian laurel climb 
 
 The Capitol, a sight sublime.
 
 ODES H. III.] QUEM TU, MELPOMENE. 163 
 
 Quite other gifts the poet wait ; 
 
 The streams that in tlieir passage lave 
 Rich Tibur vie to make him great, 
 
 And all the woods their tresses wave, 
 And nurture mid their leafy throng 
 A master of Aeolian song. 
 
 And I too am a bard ! Yes, me 
 
 Rome, Queen of cities, deigns to grace, 
 
 Rome and her youthful progeny, 
 Amid sweet singers grants a place, 
 
 And takes me out of reach of bite 
 
 From envy's tooth, and jealous spite. 
 
 O Mistress of the golden shell, 
 Pierian Muse, whose skilful hand 
 
 Controls its dulcet sounds so well. 
 
 That swan-like, — did'st thou but command, 
 
 Such gifts of song to thee belong, — 
 
 Mute fishes would break out in song, 
 
 'Tis of thy grace, thy grace alone. 
 That, minstrel of the Roman lyre, 
 
 I'm pointed out in streets, and shown, 
 And all the passers-by admire ; 
 
 My very breath has come from thee. 
 
 My power to please, if power there be.
 
 1 64 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Qualem ministmm. 
 
 Like him who serves his bolts for Jove, 
 
 The bird, whom in the air 
 Heaven's king made king of birds that rove, 
 
 Proved trusty by the care 
 He took of Ganymede, the boy with yellow hair; 
 
 His native spirit, from the nest, 
 
 Drove, still but young, the bird, 
 Unversed as yet in dangerous quest, 
 
 But when Spring's breezes stirred 
 And chased the clouds away, unwonted flights he 
 dared, 
 
 Though half afraid his wings to try ; 
 
 Anon on folds he makes 
 A fierce swoop from his watch on high ; 
 
 Then strikes at writhing snakes. 
 And still in feast and fight a fierce delight he takes; — 
 
 Or like a lion watched with eyes 
 
 Of fear by kid at graze ; 
 His tawny dam the teat denies ; 
 
 He weaned of milk essays 
 Those keen young teeth that kill where'er he preys.
 
 ODK IV.] QUALEM MINISTRUM. 165 
 
 So Drusus fought 'neath Alpine heights, 
 
 Watched by the Rhaetian foe ; 
 (Now why they armed them for their fights, 
 
 And always armed them so, 
 With Amazonian axe, I have not cared to know ; 
 
 For to know all things is not right) 
 
 But hordes, which far and wide 
 And long had conquered, learnt in fight 
 
 How intellect can guide, 
 And what, though young the chief, true genius can 
 provide. 
 
 When fostered in a kindly school, 
 
 A home of noble deed ; 
 They saw how the paternal rule 
 
 Of Caesar must succeed, 
 To those two Neros shown, two boys of noble breed. 
 
 Brave sires and good brave sons create. 
 
 In steer, in horse we see 
 The sire his worth perpetuate 
 
 And form a pedigree : 
 Fierce eagles have not peaceful doves for progeny. 
 
 But teaching, for an inbred worth. 
 Means progress : train aright
 
 r66 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 The soul that is of noble birth, 
 And you increase its might ; 
 Neglect its morals, faults will leap to shameful light. 
 
 What, Rome, you to the Neros owe, 
 
 Witness Metaurus' stream, 
 And Hasdrubal's great overthrow ; 
 
 Witness that welcome beam 
 That put to flight the gloom of Latium by its gleam. 
 
 Ah ! day of many days the first 
 
 To smile and peace proclaim, 
 Since on Italian cities burst 
 
 The Afric fiend ; like flame 
 Through pines, like Eastern blast o'er Sicel's waves, 
 he came. 
 
 From that day forward all went well, 
 Rome's youth fresh strength attained 
 
 In every conflict that befell ; 
 And fanes, so late profaned 
 
 By Punic mobs, once more their Gods, their statues, 
 gained. 
 
 At last perfidious Hannibal : 
 
 " We stags," he cried, " the prey 
 Of ravening wolves, gain nought by all 
 
 This chasing day by day ; 
 O splendid triumph this, to fail, then flee away !
 
 OUE IV.] QUALEM MINISTRUM. 167 
 
 "This race escaped from Ilium's fires, 
 
 O'er stormy Tuscan main, 
 Carried their Gods, their sons, their sires, 
 
 Italian towns to gain, 
 A sturdy folk, as hard as mountain oak in grain. 
 
 "Though shorn of all its leafy pride 
 By axe's cruel stroke. 
 Once dark on Algidus' rich side, 
 
 Still stands erect that oak, 
 Loss, death, the steel itself, fresh hope and strength 
 evoke. 
 
 " Not Hydra, which when cleft in twain, 
 Alcides, by defeat 
 Enraged, saw straight grow whole again, 
 
 Was monster worse to beat ; 
 No greater Colchus reared nor Thebes Echion's 
 seat. 
 
 " Drown it, and it will fairer rise ; 
 Wrestle, it throws to ground 
 The unscathed victor ; while the skies 
 
 With long applause resound, 
 And still at home its matrons talk of wars 
 renowned. 
 
 " I shall not now to Carthage send 
 A messenger of pride,
 
 l68 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 The death of Hasdrubal put end 
 
 To us and ours : died, died 
 With him all hope and all the fortune of our side." 
 
 Nothing there is that Claudian hand 
 
 And wit may not achieve ; ^ 
 Jove's gracious aid they can command, 
 
 And diligence will leave 
 No turn of war untried Rome's perils to relieve. 
 
 Divis orte bonis. 
 
 Born when the Gods were kind on high, 
 Thou guardian of the Roman race, 
 Too long we miss thee from thy place; 
 
 The Senate on thy word rely 
 
 Their holy conclave soon to share ; 
 
 O best and greatest, hear their prayer ! 
 
 Restore to thine own land the light 
 Of that auspicious countenance ; 
 For like the sun of Spring, one glance 
 
 From thee will make the world look bright ; 
 
 Shine, and thy people will be gay, 
 
 Shine, and bring in a better day. 
 
 n^eading "perficiunt."
 
 ODES IV. v.] DIVIS ORTE BONIS. 169 
 
 ' A mother, when her soldier son 
 Is stay'd on the Carpathian deep, 
 By cruel blasts that o'er it sweep ; — 
 Long since his voyage should be done, 
 And he, instead of stormy seas. 
 Should be enjoying home and ease ; — 
 
 With vows and prayers she calls him back, 
 And lingers, gazing o'er the bay, , 
 And watching for him day by day ; 
 
 So, struck with sudden sense of lack, 
 
 His people for their Caesar yearn. 
 
 And trustful watch for his return. 
 
 What wonder ! when, beneath his care 
 
 The ox may safely roam the field. 
 
 Fortune is kind to make it yield, 
 And Ceres strong to make it bear; 
 The sailor sails a peaceful main, 
 And stainless honour dreads a stain. 
 
 From outrage our chaste homes are free, 
 Both law and custom lewdness tame ; 
 And mothers their own praise proclaim 
 
 When in their sons themselves they see ; 
 
 Each fault has its attendant due, 
 
 Vengeance on sin doth still pursue.
 
 lyo ODES OF HORACE. [book iv, 
 
 Why fear the Parthian foe, or dread 
 The Scythian from the frozen north, 
 Or what rough Germany brings forth, 
 
 With Caesar safe and at our head? 
 
 Why tremble at the news from Spain, 
 
 Lest its fierce tribes break out again? 
 
 On his own hills, each man in peace 
 Closes each day, and weds the vine 
 To trees which else like widows pine ; 
 
 Then at his wine reclines at ease. 
 
 And with the second course implores 
 
 Thy presence, and a God adores. 
 
 With many prayers he asks thy grace ; 
 Libations oft he pours of wine, 
 To give thee at his household shrine 
 
 Amid his household Gods a place, 
 
 Grateful as Greece which Heav'n decrees 
 
 To Castor and great Hercules. 
 
 " Propitious chief ! Oh let thy power 
 Give Italy long festal days ! " 
 This is the prayer our lips shall raise 
 When dry, at morning's early hour; 
 This be our prayer, when, steeped in wine, 
 We watch the westering sun decline.
 
 ODES V. VI.] DIVE, QUEM PROLES. 171 
 
 VI. 
 
 Dtve, quern proles. 
 
 Did boastful tongue, and lust, and pride, 
 
 O God, thy vengeance know? 
 Ask Niobe whose children died, 
 
 Tityos, and high Troy's foe, 
 Phthian Achilles, who so nearly laid it low. 
 
 Match'd by no warrior upon earth, 
 
 He quailed before thy might; 
 The sea-nymph Thetis gave him birth, 
 
 He shook his spear in fight, 
 And the Dardanian turrets trembled with affright. 
 
 Yet as a pine will fall before 
 
 The tooth of biting blade, 
 .As cypress in the tempest's roar. 
 
 So he to fall was made, 
 His neck, and all his length, in Trojan dust he laid. 
 
 Achilles was not one to lurk 
 
 Within the horse, and pay 
 Feigned rites to Pallas, harm to work 
 
 On ill-starred holiday, 
 To Troy and Priam's hall with dance and gladness 
 
 gay-
 
 172 ODES OF^ HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 To captives with an open ire 
 
 He would have spoken doom, 
 Thrown merest infants in the fire, 
 
 O horror ! made the womb — 
 Alas, alas, for those poor wordless ones — a tomb ! 
 
 Had not the father of the Gods, 
 
 To thine and Venus' prayer, 
 Vouchsafed by that great brow that nods, 
 
 Aeneas should repair 
 His fortunes, building walls once more with omen fair. 
 
 Minstrel ! the Muse with voice that rings, 
 
 Thalia, learnt thy lays ; 
 O Phoebus, who in Xanthus' springs 
 
 Lavest thy locks, the praise 
 O Daunian song maintain, smooth guardian of the 
 ways ! 
 
 From thee my inspiration flows, 
 
 From thee my gift of song, 
 His name to thee the poet owes ; 
 
 Let choirs thy praise prolong, 
 Flower of our maidens, boys whose sires were brave 
 and strong. 
 
 Wards of the Delian Goddess sing I 
 She stags and lynxes fleet
 
 ODES VI. VII.] DIVE, QUEM PROLES. 173 
 
 Checks with an arrow from her string ; 
 
 Keep Lesbian measure meet, 
 And always watch my thumb from me to take the 
 beat. 
 
 Duly Latona's boy be sung, 
 
 Duly night's queen, whose clear 
 And growing torch is nightly hung, 
 
 The moon of harvest cheer, 
 Who rolls the prosperous months so swiftly up the 
 year. 
 
 And soon each girl, now made a bride, 
 
 Will say, " Gods love the lay 
 I sang at that glad festal-tide 
 
 That brought the happy day, 
 For did not Bard Horatius teach those numbers ? 
 Yea! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Diffugere nives. 
 
 Fled have the snows ; the fields grow green ; 
 
 The trees their tresses fair renew ; 
 
 The earth puts on her vernal hue ; 
 And rivers, dwindling, flow between
 
 174 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 Their wonted banks. So mild the air, 
 That now the Graces to the mead 
 The Nymphs in merry dances lead, 
 
 With all their shining beauties bare. 
 
 Think not for ever here to stay ! 
 
 Each year proclaims that man is frail, 
 Each hour takes up the warning tale. 
 
 And whirls away the kindly day. 
 
 Spring breezes thaw the winter's snow ; 
 On spring treads summer ; summer yields 
 To autumn, which upon the fields 
 
 Her lavish wealth of fruits will throw. 
 
 Then lifeless cold is back once more. 
 So range the seasons ; yet their waste 
 By hastening moons is soon replaced ; 
 
 But we, when once this life is o'er, 
 
 And we have gone where went the just 
 
 Aeneas, father of our line, 
 
 Ancus, and TuUus the divine, 
 Are nothing then but shade and dust. 
 
 Who knows if, when to-day has fled, 
 The Gods another morn will spare ? 
 Spend on thyself, and cheat the heir, 
 
 Dear heart, whose hands would rob the dead.
 
 ODES VII. VIII.] DIFFUGERE NIVES. 
 
 Once Minos' august words declare 
 Thy doom, Torquatus, eloquence, 
 Nor rank, nor piety can thence 
 
 Restore thee to the upper air. 
 
 Not Dian chaste Hippolytus 
 
 Could save from hell's all-dark domain, 
 Nor Theseus from Lethean chain 
 
 Could tear his loved Pirithous. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Donarein pateras. 
 
 My friends would find me generous 
 Of handsome bronzes, cups, and bowls, 
 And tripods won by noble souls, 
 Greek prizes ; and while giving thus 
 All that was mine of rich and rare, 
 The best, not worst, should be your share, 
 
 O Censorinus ! For, suppose 
 
 You pictures wished or statues ; " these 
 Parrhasius painted ; each who sees 
 
 Can trace his touch ; or Scopas chose 
 
 To make a God or hero live 
 
 In marble " ; were such mine to give, 
 
 ^75
 
 j^6 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 Painting and statue yours should be. 
 But I no trifles of the kind 
 Possess to give, and your own mind 
 
 From such desires is wholly free; 
 
 For if to art your fancy leans, 
 
 Your fortune does not grudge the means. 
 
 But 'tis in song you take delight. 
 
 And song I'm able to bestow ; 
 
 Of song too I the value know. 
 Take some old hero famed in fight, 
 And make him live again and breathe 
 In marble ! would you then bequeath 
 
 His deeds to all the time to come 
 
 Like mighty song? "From Scipio fled, 
 With his own curses on his head, 
 
 The Carthaginian, and the doom 
 
 Of fire on impious Carthage came, 
 
 From whence the hero took his name 
 
 Of Africanus " ; this were praise ! 
 
 But not so great as to be sung 
 
 By Ennius in his native tongue ! 
 Such monument the Muses raise. 
 Should poets cease to write, your deed, 
 However great, would lose its meed.
 
 ODESViu. IX.] DONAREM PATERAS. 177 
 
 What were great Mars' and Ilia's son, 
 If envious silence worth suppressed? 
 Amid the islands of the Blest 
 
 For Aeacus a place was won, 
 
 Worth and the poet's grace can save 
 
 A hero from the Stygian wave. 
 
 Let but a man deserve to live, 
 
 The Muses will not let him die, 
 
 But make him happy in the sky. 
 So to strong Hercules they give 
 The place so coveted above, 
 At the high banquet of great Jove. 
 
 So, sons of Tyndareus, ye shine, 
 Bright guiding stars, a ship to save 
 Though battered by the boisterous wave ; 
 
 So Liber, garlands of the vine 
 
 About his temples, makes ascend 
 
 Our vows to a successful end. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Ne forte credas. 
 
 Think not my words can e'er expire 
 
 Because alone I dare 
 To wed them to a Latin lyre 
 
 With music new and rare, 
 
 M
 
 1^8 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 I, born by Aufidus, who o'er 
 
 The distance makes his waters roar; 
 
 For though Maeonian Homer hold 
 
 Above all bards the throne, 
 Nor are Alcaeus' measures bold, 
 
 Nor Pindar's odes unknown ; 
 The Cean left some songs to time, 
 Stesichorus some stately rhyme. 
 
 Not even trifles of the kind 
 
 Anacreon wrote decay, 
 The passion in her muse enshrined 
 
 Still breathes through Sappho's lay; 
 We feel her still her love rehearse 
 In ardours of Aeolian verse. 
 
 Helen is not the only spouse 
 Curled love-locks have betrayed. 
 
 And made untrue to marriage vows ; 
 The dress with gold brocade, 
 
 The regal state, the princely train, 
 
 That charmed her eye will charm again. 
 
 Ere Teucer shot, a shaft had flown 
 
 From a Cydonian bow; 
 Troy was assailed not once alone; 
 
 When Sthenelus aim'd blow, 
 Or huge Idomeneus, in fray. 
 Were these the first fights meet for lay?
 
 ODE IX. J NE FORTE CREDAS. 179 
 
 Great Hector of the fiery heart, 
 
 Deiphobus aye keen 
 'Mid sturdy strokes to play his part, 
 
 Were not the first, I ween, 
 To bear the brunt of deadly strife 
 For tender child and faithful wife. 
 
 Brave men there were, not few, before 
 
 Brave Agamemnon ; they 
 Have none to know them or deplore ; 
 
 Long night has quenched their day, 
 Because no bard with sacred song 
 Appeared their mem'ry to prolong. 
 
 A buried valour might as well 
 
 Be cowardice ; shall I, 
 Who in my page great deeds might tell, 
 
 Pass yours in silence by ? 
 Nor speak one word those feats to save 
 From pale Oblivion's jealous grave? 
 
 For in you, Lollius, is a mind 
 
 Sagacious, able, wise ; 
 Fair weather will it constant find, 
 
 And constant stormy skies, 
 A scourge of greedy fraud, nor prey 
 To wealth that draws the world away. 
 
 For one year Consul ? nay, true heart ! 
 But oft as pure and just,
 
 i8o ODES OF HORACE. [book'iv. 
 
 For right you take the judge's part, 
 
 With lofty bearing thrust 
 The guilty backward and their pay, 
 And through whole armies take your way. 
 
 You would not by the name of " blest " 
 
 The man of millions call ; 
 To that fair name his claim is best 
 
 Who wisely uses all 
 The gifts of heaven, and could endure 
 Hard poverty, should he be poor. 
 
 And from disgrace alone would run 
 
 As worse than death ; yes, he 
 Deserves the name of " blest " as one 
 
 Who would not turn to flee, 
 Should cherished friends, or fatherland, 
 At any hour his life demand. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Est mihi nonum. 
 
 I have a cask of Alban wine 
 Quite full ; nine years and more 
 
 Have made it old ; and, Phyllis mine. 
 The garden holds a store 
 
 Of ivy; — bind your shining hair; — 
 
 Or if for weaving crowns to wear,
 
 ODES IX. XI.] EST MIHI NONUM. i8r 
 
 You wish it, parsley you may find ; 
 
 The house with silver plate 
 Looks gay ; with holy vervain twined, 
 
 The altar scarce can wait 
 The moment when the lamb we slay, 
 And with its blood our offering pay. 
 
 All hands are busy ; to and fro 
 
 Run troops of boys and girls ; 
 The flickering fire is all aglow. 
 
 Smoke mounts in sooty curls : 
 All signs to warn you to prepare 
 Of some great joy to take your share. 
 
 Know then, you are to keep the Ides 
 
 Of April, month of love, 
 O'er which the sea-born Queen presides ; 
 
 Its midmost day above 
 All other days is dear to me, 
 A day of great solemnity. 
 
 And every year I own it right 
 
 The day to celebrate ; 
 For my Maecenas from its light 
 
 His flowing years to date 
 Begins, and makes it holy, yea, 
 More almost than my natal day.
 
 1 82 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 Young Telephus, the man you thought 
 
 To marry, though too high 
 In rank for you, has just been caught 
 
 By a young heiress' eye ; 
 Her wanton fetters clasp him round. 
 And he is happy to be bound. 
 
 A fright ambitious hopes attends, 
 
 As Phaethon singed could tell; 
 And Pegasus grave warning lends, 
 
 From whom his rider fell, 
 Bellerophon, — a rider born 
 Of our low earth winged horses scorn. 
 
 Be warned, and when you seek a mate 
 
 A seemly course pursue. 
 Think sin to aim beyond what fate 
 
 And heaven assign to you, 
 Last of my loves, for I disclaim. 
 From henceforth, any tender flame. 
 
 Then learn by heart and practise o'er 
 
 My songs, that I may hear 
 The measures that I make, once more 
 
 Sung by a voice so dear; 
 And as you sing, the black distress 
 That tortures me, will torture less.
 
 ODESXi. xii.] JAM VERIS CO.MITES. 183 
 
 XII. 
 
 Jam Vert's comites. 
 
 'Tis spring, and now the Thracian gales, 
 That form spring's retinue, are blowing, 
 
 And as they fill the swelling sails, 
 
 Their mastery o'er the sea are showing; 
 
 The frosts are gone, and streams no more, 
 
 Swoll'n by the snows of winter, roar. 
 
 The bird of woe now builds her nest, 
 The air with cries of anguish rending 
 
 For Itys, ah ! poor tortured breast, 
 
 To Cecrops' house shame never-ending, 
 
 For though on barbarous kings it fell 
 
 And lust, her vengeance was not well. 
 
 Now may you hear from grassy plain, 
 
 Where flocks grow fat, a jocund measure. 
 
 For shepherd pipes give forth a strain 
 
 That fills great Pan himself with pleasure, 
 
 The God whom every flock delights, 
 
 Who loves the dark Arcadian heights. 
 
 'Tis thirsty weather, Virgil mine ! 
 
 You want a drink;— now don't deny it;
 
 184 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 Well if you wish a vintage wine 
 
 From Cales, you with nard must buy it ; 
 The noble youths, your friends, may well 
 Provide you gratis ; / must sell. 
 
 One little casket, you will find, 
 
 Of nard, will coax from out its hiding, 
 
 A cask of the most generous kind, 
 Sulpicius' cellars are providing ; 
 
 A wine that can defeat despair, 
 
 And take its bitterness from care. 
 
 If to such pleasures you would haste. 
 
 Come; but don't leave the nard behind you; 
 
 Or of my wine you do not taste ; 
 
 For why should I in bumpers find you 
 
 For nothing, just as if I rolled, 
 
 Like some of your rich friends, in gold. 
 
 But seriously, make no delay ! 
 
 From money-making take some leisure ; 
 The gloomy fires will claim their prey; 
 
 Then while you can enjoy your pleasure, 
 With some brief folly temper wit, 
 Fooling is sweet when place is fit.
 
 ODES XII. XIII.] AUDIVERE, LVCE. 185 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Audivere, Lyce. 
 
 The Gods have heard me, Lyce, yes 
 The Gods have heard my prayer : 
 
 You grow a hag; yet none the less 
 Conceited than you were, 
 
 You wish to be admired, and play 
 
 And drink in a most shameless way. 
 
 Then in your cups you whine, and call 
 
 For Cupid ; slow is he 
 To come, nay, will not come at all ; 
 
 But blooming Chia — see 
 O'er her fair cheeks who harps so well, 
 He watches, willing sentinel. 
 
 Disdainfully he takes his flight 
 
 From dry old oaks, and you ; 
 He sees those wrinkles, ugly sight — 
 
 Those teeth of yellow hue : 
 He sees a head as white as snow ; 
 No wonder that he hastes to go ! 
 
 Bright is the Coan purple's stain. 
 And pearls are rich and rare ;
 
 1 86 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 But these can never bring again 
 The days when you were fair ; 
 Winged Time as if with bolt and bar 
 Has shut them in the Calendar. 
 
 Whither has fled your charm ? your grace 
 
 Of movement? and the hue 
 That once made fair that face, that face 
 
 That I so loved to view ? 
 For love breathed from you then and stole 
 From me my very heart and soul. 
 
 For next to Cinaia you shone, 
 Quite famed for winning ways; 
 
 But Cinara's brief days are done. 
 While Fate your end delays; 
 
 For you she lets the seasons grow, 
 
 To match you with the beldame crow. 
 
 She means— I see her purpose clear — 
 
 Our young men all on fire 
 To look on Lyce shall but jeer; 
 
 For who could still admire 
 A beauty that has had her day, 
 A torch to ashes fall'n away ?
 
 ODES XIII. XIV.] QUAE CURA I'ATRUM. tS; 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Quae cum pairiim. 
 
 Should Senate, with all Romans, vie 
 To give thy virtues endless fame. 
 Could graven stones thy worth proclaim? 
 
 Or could recorded page supply 
 
 The honours due to thee from Rome, 
 O Prince of Princes? Might like thine 
 The sun beholds not though he shine 
 
 Wherever man may make a home, 
 
 Augustus ! whose resistless sword 
 
 The Swiss, long strangers to the strength 
 Of Latin law, have learned at length, 
 
 Is wielded by their future lord. 
 
 For Drusus, with thy eager hosts 
 
 Laid low, with more than stroke for stroke, 
 The fierce Genaunians, restless folk. 
 
 And the fleet Breuni, from their posts 
 
 Upon the dreaded Alpine heights 
 
 Dislodged ; and scarce was struck this blow 
 When down upon the Rhaetian foe 
 
 (Fortune herself thy battle fights)
 
 i88 ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 The elder of the Neros bore : 
 
 O glorious sight ! what havoc then 
 
 He wrought among those desperate men, 
 
 Sworn to live free, or live no more ! 
 
 Whole squadrons, see, he routs, and where 
 The fight is raging hottest, makes 
 A passage, much as Auster breaks 
 
 Through waves that still his fury dare, 
 
 When cleave through yielding clouds the band 
 Of Pleiads ; so, with eager force, 
 The warrior spurred his neighing horse 
 
 Through fiery foes on either hand. 
 
 Recall how like a furious bull. 
 
 The torrent Aufidus, whose waves 
 
 Apulia, Daunus' kingdom, laves, 
 Bursts downward when his stream is full, 
 
 And, as if raging with intent 
 
 To flood the crops, o'erflows his bank ; 
 So Claudius, mowing rank by rank, 
 
 Through mail-clad warriors slaughtering went, 
 
 Until in one great overthrow. 
 Without a single loss, — for thine 
 Were luck, and men, and bold design, — 
 
 Upon the earth he laid tliem low.
 
 ODE XIV.] QUAE CURA PATRUM. 189 
 
 Yes, thine own Gods decreed that day 
 Thy orders with success to crown, 
 Conferring the long-wished renown 
 
 Thy troops must win when they obey, 
 
 For lustres three had brought once more 
 The day, when, port and palace set 
 Wide open, Alexandria met 
 
 Her victor on her suppliant shore. 
 
 The wild Cantabrian, whom, till now 
 No arm could tame, the Scythian fleet, 
 Indian and Mede, before thy feet 
 
 In awe and wonder learnt to bow. 
 
 Thou guardian of fair Italy, 
 
 Thou guardian of our queenly Rome, 
 Where thy great presence has its home, 
 
 All lands, all rivers, yield to thee; 
 
 Old Nile that still conceals his source, 
 Ister, and Tigris swift of stream, 
 And Ocean, where the monsters teem, 
 
 That round far Britain murmurs hoarse. 
 
 The Gauls from death who never flee. 
 And hardy Spaniards hear thy voice, 
 Sygambri, who in feud rejoice, 
 
 Lay down their arms, and worship thee.
 
 igo ODES OF HORACE. [book iv. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Phoebus vo lent em. 
 
 Apollo, when I wished to sing 
 
 Of conquered towns and fights, 
 Smote somewhat sharply on his string, 
 
 Forbidding daring flights, 
 And bade me mark how slight my sail 
 For Tuscan wave and Tuscan gale. 
 
 O Caesar, what an age is thine ! 
 
 Once more our fields with corn 
 Are rich : once more within his shrine 
 
 Jove sees the standards torn 
 From Parthian portals : stripped and bare 
 They now no boasted trophies wear. 
 
 Now with closed gate, and free from fight 
 
 Quirinian Janus stands, 
 And those who wandered from the right 
 
 Now own thy guiding hands; 
 Thy curb on licence has been strong, 
 To bridle or remove the wrong. 
 
 Now ancient customs have revived. 
 
 Whence Latin name was great, 
 By which Italian interests thrived, 
 
 Whence Rome derived her state.
 
 ODE XV.] PHOEBUS VOLENTEM. igi 
 
 Until from East to furthest West, 
 
 Her power was known, her fame confest. 
 
 While Caesar guards the world and Rome, 
 
 Our townsmen safe will dwell, 
 No frenzy will disturb their home, 
 
 No tumult sleep expel, 
 Nor wrath that forges swords to slay, 
 And plunges wretched towns in fray. 
 
 Not those who drink deep Danube's stream, 
 
 Or roam in eastern lands, 
 Seres, perfidious Persians, dream 
 
 Of breaking thy commands, 
 Getae, nor tribes that range upon 
 Their native banks of distant Don. 
 
 Then let us sing whate'er the day. 
 
 To feast or labour due, 
 Gay Liber's gifts should make all gay, 
 
 You wives and children you. 
 If first in piety we go 
 To pay to heaven the prayers we owe. 
 
 Sing we, as sang our sires of yore, 
 
 Of all the virtuous dead, 
 Of Troy, and those kind Venus bore 
 
 To great Anchises' bed, 
 Let Lydian flutes their music lend, 
 And with their notes our voices blend.
 
 CARMEN SECULARE. 
 
 Phoebe sitvarumque. 
 
 Phoebus, Diana silvan Queenj 
 
 Bright glories of the sky, 
 Ever adored since time has been. 
 
 Adorable for aye. 
 Our prayers at this glad season hear, 
 For round has come the Sacred Year. 
 
 And on this year — for thus commands 
 
 Of old, Sibylline verse — 
 Pure boys and maids in chosen bands, 
 
 A sacred song rehearse, 
 A song to Gods who from on high 
 Watch our seven hills with favouring eye. 
 
 " O kindly Sun, in chariot drawn, 
 
 All bright to bring the day 
 
 And hide it ; born at every dawn 
 
 The same, yet different — may 
 192
 
 PHOEBE SILVARUMQUE. 193 
 
 Thy light in all thy travels come 
 Upon no greater thing than Rome ! 
 
 " O Ilithyia, timely friend, 
 
 At birth-hour be benign, 
 And still with care our matrons tend, 
 
 Whatever name be thine ! 
 Shall we invoke ' Lucina bright,' 
 Or 'Goddess of the natal rite?' 
 
 " O Goddess, let our offspring know 
 
 Thy fostering care and aid, 
 And let to prosperous issue grow 
 
 The laws the Fathers made 
 To strengthen the chaste marriage tie. 
 By which our race may multiply ! 
 
 " So that the cycle may not fail — 
 
 Its years eleven times ten — 
 But through all time complete the tale ; 
 
 Bring song and sport again, 
 That thrice our throngs in shining day, 
 Thrice in glad night, may sing and play. 
 
 " Ye Fates, too, prophets making sure, 
 Things once for all averred, 
 (And may Time's landmark, still secure, 
 Protect ^ the promised word,) 
 
 ^ Reading ' ' servet. " 
 
 N
 
 . ODES OF HORACE. [carmen 
 
 Ordain to fortunes passed away 
 A future with as bright a day ! 
 
 " May earth, proHfic now to bear 
 Its wealth of flocks and grain, 
 Her spiky garland give to wear 
 
 To Ceres; healthful rain, 
 And breezes, taught by Jove to blow. 
 Combine to make our harvests grow ! 
 
 •" Apollo, mild and gracious be ! 
 Lay down thy dart, and hear 
 Our boys who bend the suppliant knee; 
 
 Queen of the starlight clear, 
 Two-horned Luna, let the strain 
 Of maidens all thy favour gain ! 
 
 ■"■ If Rome your work was ; if were brought 
 Unharmed to Tuscan shore 
 The squadrons that for Ilium fought. 
 
 And, voyage safely o'er. 
 The remnant here were charged to take 
 New household Gods, new city make, 
 
 ■•'For whom the pure Aeneas shaped. 
 While Troy was burning— he 
 Who his own country's fall escaped — 
 Shaped passage safe and free,
 
 seculare] PHOEBE SILVARUMQUE. 195 
 
 And brought them where they yet might find 
 Far more than all they left behind ; 
 
 " Make our youth docile, Gods, and good. 
 
 Right in their minds instil ; 
 Grant, Gods, to age that quietude 
 
 That should old age fulfil ; 
 Increase and bless the Roman race 
 With honour, wealth, and every grace ! 
 
 " May he, since spotless ox is slain. 
 
 Who draws illustrious birth 
 From Venus and Anchises, gain 
 
 His wish; supreme on earth 
 Still conquer, ready to forego 
 Advantage o'er his fallen foe ! 
 
 "o^ 
 
 " Now quails the Mede ; on land and sea 
 
 The Alban axe is known ; 
 Rome's awful might and majesty 
 
 The Scyth and Indian own ; 
 And while so proud they stood of late, 
 Her words of doom now humbly wait. 
 
 " Again neglected virtues dare 
 
 Make Rome their dwelling place ; 
 Honour, and Peace, and Truth are there. 
 And Shame, that antique grace.
 
 196 ODES OF HORACE. [carmen 
 
 And Plenty comes again to pour 
 From her full horn an ample store. 
 
 " And Phoebus, he the seer divine, 
 
 Adorned with shining bow, 
 Accepted comrade of the Nine, 
 
 Whose healing virtues flow 
 To human limbs, with art to bless 
 And charm them from their weariness ; 
 
 " If still he views with favouring eyes 
 
 The altars ^ Palatine, 
 Bright while another lustre flies. 
 
 He makes Rome's fortunes shine. 
 While Latium waits- a better age, 
 A still increasing heritage. 
 
 " And Dian — Algidus her fane 
 
 Can boast and Aventine — 
 To her the Fifteen, not in vain. 
 
 In humble prayer incline ; 
 And as from boys the vow ascends 
 A listening ear the Goddess bends." 
 
 That thus it pleases Jove above, 
 And all the Gods, I tell; 
 
 ^Reading "aras." -Reading " prorogat, curat, applicat."
 
 SECULAKR] THOEBE SILVARUMQUE. jg-j 
 
 I bring home hope, and time will prove 
 
 This hope is founded well, 
 For I was trained in Phoebus' choir ; 
 His praise and Dian's claim my lyre. 
 
 <;la,s(;ow : ikinted at the univeksity press hy kohekt maci.ehose andco.
 
 Messrs. MacLehose's Classical Books 
 
 By WILLIAM WARDLAW WADDELL, M.A. 
 
 The Parmenides of Plato. After the 
 
 Paging of the Clarke Manuscript. Edited, willi 
 Introduction, Fac-similes, and Notes, byAViLLiAM 
 Wardlaw Waddell, M.A., Glasgow and Oxford, 
 one of Her Majesty's Inspectors of Schools. 
 
 "Those wlio know how few really s;ood editions of the Platonic 
 dialogues there are will warmly welcome this addition to their 
 number. The student of Palaeography will be attracted by the 
 fidelity with which not merely the spelling and division of sentences, 
 but even the marking of erasures, the tall letters, the exact form of 
 page and line in the ' Codex Clarkianus ' are here presented to the 
 eye. The part of the introduction which deals with the authorship 
 of the Parmenides is written in an eminently judicious and impartial 
 manner. The commentary, on an elaborate scale and admirably 
 executed, is everywhere lucid, ingenious, and in an eminent degree 
 sympathetic. It is impossible within the limits of this notice to do 
 justice to all the characteristics of the notes."--R. D. Hicks, in The 
 Classical Reviczo. 
 
 By PROFESSOR JEBB. 
 
 Homer : An introduction to the Iliad and the 
 
 Odyssey. For the use of Schools and Colleges. 
 By R. C. jEBB, Litt.D., M.P., Professor of Greek 
 in the University of Cambridge. Fourth Edition. 
 Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 "We heartily commend the handbook before us to the diligent 
 study of all beginners, and many 'ripe scholars.'" — Atheiiaum. 
 
 The Anabasis of Xenophon. Books 
 
 III. and IV., with the Modern Greek Version 
 of Professor Michael Constantinides. Edited 
 by Profess'or J ebb. F'cap. 8vo. 4s. 6d. 
 
 Glasgow : 
 
 James MacLehose & Sons, 
 
 Publishers to the University. 
 London : Macmillan & Co.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 DEC 12 1956 
 
 >»"^ *> 
 
 ffT 
 
 ^ 19F" 
 
 minx. FEB ^4 1967 
 ^EB 2 8 1867 
 
 MAY 6 i{^84 
 
 RK'D ID nor 
 
 JUN 
 
 - 'w; 
 
 mo i^uii Ot APR 1 8 im 
 
 t^-m< JAN 2 IMS 
 
 MAY 9 IP! 
 
 ^25 
 
 a? 
 
 Form L9-100iii-9,'52(A3105)444 
 
 1974 

 
 3 1158 00893 9893 
 
 /f0 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 000 435 824 8