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THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 IN ENGLISH. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 IN HNCxLISH, 
 
 IN THE ORIGINAL METRES. 
 
 BV THE 
 
 REV. PHILIP E. PHELPS. M.A. 
 
 »» , 
 
 JAMES PARKER AND CO., 
 
 6 SOUTHAMPTON-STREET, STRAND, LONDOxN ; 
 
 AND 27 BROAD-SIRKET, OXFORD. 
 1897.^ 
 

 TO THE VERY REV. 
 
 HENRY MONTAGU BUTLER, D.D. 
 
 MASTER OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, 
 ETC., ETC., ETC., 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
 BY HIS GRATEFUL FRIEND, 
 
 THE TRANSLATOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IN adding one more to the many Translations of Horace 
 which are before the Public, :he present Translator 
 craves indulgence chiefly on the ground that his Version 
 is unique, being the only one in which the Poet appears 
 in an En dish dress in thi Horatian meins. 
 
 He is sensible how far any English Version, or indeed 
 one in any other language, falls short of the inimitable 
 graces of the Original, but he has tried to do his best. 
 
 To two classes of Readers he may perhaps commend 
 his book. The Scholar may possibly find amusement 
 in perusing his old friend's style imitated in English ; — 
 while the English reader may feel an interest in reading 
 the famous Latin Poet in a Version which attempts to 
 shew him not only what Horace wrote, but to present it. 
 metrically at least, as he wrote it. 
 
 For his information, the arrangement of syllables in 
 Horace's three principal metres is here appended, as 
 illustrated in three specimen stanzas : — 
 
 (I.) Asclcpiad Metre (as Book I. Ode I., 6:c.). 
 (.Ml similar lines in this Ode. i 
 
 ** O Mie ' cenas, my friend | sprung from a race of Kings."' 
 
 There are other varieties of this metre (as in Ode V.. 
 &c.). 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 (II.) Sapphic Metre {^s 'Boovi I. Ode II., &c.). 
 
 " Now e I nough snow | and hail in | visi \ tation 
 '' Dire hath | the Fa | ther sent, and | with his | right hand 
 *' Flaming | against | the cita | dels so | sacred, 
 " Frighten'd the | City." 
 
 (Note. — This metre is best read in its g€7ieralflow^ without 
 regard to these divisions (as in Canning's Poem, 
 see below *). 
 
 (III.) Alcaic Metre {2.^ Book I. Ode IX., &c.). 
 
 '• See how | Sorac | te 1 1 stands white with | deep'ning snow, | 
 " Nor can | the lab | ring 1 1 forests sus | tain the load 
 "That press | es on | them, while | the ri | vers 
 "Stand all con | geal'd into | icy | masses." 
 
 The Translator has a favour to ask from his classic 
 reader — which is, that he will not expect the long and 
 short Latin syllables to be so rendered at all times in 
 English — this were an impossible task — but that he will 
 content himself with such a general rendering of the 
 metres, as, e.g., Canning has given (in Sapphics) in his 
 well-known poem, * The Needy Knifegrinder, 
 
BOOK I 
 
 
 ODE I. (To MAECENAS.) 
 
 O M.tCENAS, my friend, sprung from a race of kings, 
 Thou, my safeguard, and eke sweetest of ornaments ; 
 There are, whom it delights, clouds of Olympic dust 
 To collect, and the goal, shav'd by the glowing wheels, 
 And Palm, lords of the earth lifts to the height of heav'n. 
 
 This man, if tickle crowds of the Quiritians 
 vStrive to raise up on high with triple meed of praise. 
 That one, if safely he in his own barn hath stor'd 
 All that ever is swept from Libyan threshing-floors — 
 Him too — whose joy it is his father's fields to cleave 
 With spade or with his hoe, — wealth of an Attains 
 Ne'er would tempt to set sail — poor, timid voyager, 
 And in Cyprian bark cut the Myrtoan sea. 
 
 When stern Africus strives with the Icarian waves, 
 Then the merchantman lauds, fearing the storm, the rest 
 And sweet country-delights of his beloved town. 
 Yet soon, (poverty's pangs w^iolly untaught to bear). 
 He his tempest-tost craft fits out again for sea. 
 
 Some there are, who enjoy cups of old Massic wine, 
 And to lazily spend large parts of ev'ry day, 
 Stretch'd at ease 'neath the shade of the green arbutus. 
 Or just by fountain-head of some old holy stream. 
 
 jMany, warfare delights, and the shrill trumpet-sound 
 Mix'd with horn-blast, and dread sounds of the battlefield 
 
 B 
 
2 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Hated by mothers dear. All in the cold alone 
 See ! the hunter remains, mindless of tender spouse, 
 Whether stag hath been now seen by his faithful hounds, 
 Or the boar hath but just burst the thin hunting-nets. 
 Me the ivy so green, prize of the learned brows, 
 Mingles with Gods above ; me the cool forest-grove. 
 And the graceful nymphs' dance with the wild Satyr-band 
 Mark apart from the crowd, if but Euterpe give 
 Skill to play on the pipe, nor Polyhymnia 
 Deign the pow'r to refuse Lesbian lyre to tune. 
 But if 'mid lyric bards you will inscribe my name, 
 I with head borne aloft surely shall touch the stars. 
 
 ODE 11. (To Augustus.) 
 
 Now enough snow and hail in visitation 
 Dire hath the Father sent, and with his right hand 
 Flaming against the citadels so sacred, 
 Frighten'd the city ; 
 
 Frighten'd the nations, lest the age of Pyrrha 
 Back should return, of monsters new complaining, 
 When Proteus drove his flocks and herds to see the 
 Tops of the mountains. 
 
 And the fish dwelt amidst the elm's top branches, 
 (Seat that the doves had formerly frequented,) 
 While the deer swam amid the swelling waters 
 Closing around them. 
 
 Yes, we have seen the waves of yellow Tiber, 
 Flung with a force back from the shore Etruscan, 
 Go to destroy the monuments of Numa, and 
 Temples of Vesta. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 
 
 While the uxorious river, boasting vengeance 
 On the behalf of Ilia, his beloved. 
 Flows from his left bank, wanderings in spite of 
 Jove's disapproval. 
 
 Now shall our youth, few from their parents' vices, 
 Hear of the sword the citizens have whetted. 
 Sword by which Persians stern had far the better 
 Perish'd in battle. 
 
 Which of the Gods shall hear the praying people 
 Of our doom'd Empire ? with what supplication 
 Shall holy Virgins beg the now unwilling 
 Vesta to hear them ? 
 
 Who shall be giv'n the power of expiation 
 By the great Jove? O come at length, we pray thee, 
 Clad with a cloud about thy shining shoulders, 
 Augur Apollo ! 
 
 Or wilt thou rather, smiling Erycina, 
 Whom Cupid flutters round, and Hghtsome laughter;- 
 Or thy neglected race and their descendants 
 See'st thou, as Author ? 
 
 Ah ! sated surely with too frequent slaughter. 
 Whom battle-cry delights, and glitt'ring helmets, • 
 And the stern glance of Marsian horsemen, gazing 
 On bloody foemen. 
 
 Or with thy figure chang'd, in winged fashion, 
 Dost thou on earth a human youth resemble, 
 Son of kind Maia, willing to be reckon'd 
 Caesar's avenger ? 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Late into beav'n may'st thou return ! and joyful ; — 
 Long may thy presence bless the Roman people, 
 Nor let the gale Elysian too quickly, 
 (Wroth at our vices,) 
 
 Waft thee hence ! Here, the rather, mighty triumphs, 
 May'st thou love, here the name of Prince and Father, 
 Nor let the Medians unaveng'd insult us, 
 Csesar, our leader. 
 
 ODE IIL (To Virgil's Ship.) 
 
 So may Cyprus's Goddess-queen, 
 And Helena's brothers, stars brightly glittering, 
 
 And the Father of Winds, guide thee, 
 Shutting all others out, save the lapyx-gale, 
 
 O ship ! who, (prize entrusted thee,) 
 Owest my Virgil to Attica's boundaries ! 
 
 Safely bring him again, I pray. 
 And preserve in thy love half of my life to me ! 
 
 Surely oak-guard and triple brass 
 Must have girt round his heart, who to the raging sea 
 
 First entrusted a fragile boat, 
 Nof fear'd rage of the mad headlong south-western wind 
 
 Striving madly with Aquilo, 
 Nor the stern Hyades, nor Notus' awful rage ! 
 
 Than which none has a greater force 
 Whether raising or else lulling the whelming sea ! 
 
 Which of death's forms could frighten him 
 Who the sea-monsters wild could with fix'd eyes behold. 
 
 Swimming midst ocean's swelling waves ; — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 5 
 
 xA.nd those infamous rocks, Acro-ceraunia ? 
 
 Vainly God in his Providence 
 Se\er'd regions of earth by the dividing sea, 
 
 Vainly, if, notwithstanding all, 
 Vessels leap o'er the depths not to be ventur'd nigh : — 
 
 Bold to perpetrate ev'rything, 
 Man will boldly rush through all the forbidden ground ; - 
 
 The bold race of lapetus 
 Brought with fraud and deceit fire to our wretched race ; — 
 
 When this fire had been stol'n from heav'n, 
 Famine's plague, and a new ravaging fever-band 
 
 Brooded madly o'er all the earth. 
 And, (a stranger before,) grim Death's once-halting pace 
 
 Hasten'd sadly his fatal step, 
 ]\Iadly Daedalus encounter'd the empty air 
 
 With wings never design'd for man. 
 Strength of Hercules, too, broke thro' pale Acheron. 
 
 Nought too difficult seems for man — 
 Heav'n itself in our mad folly we try to scale, 
 
 Nor — so great is our wickedness— 
 ^\'ill we let even Jove lay his dread thunder by. 
 
 ODE IV. (To Sestius.) 
 Stern Winter is dissolv'd by the pleasant change of Spring 
 and Favonius, 
 And rollers now bring the dry ships to sea-ward — 
 And neither now does cattle joy in stalls, or ploughman in 
 his hearth-fire. 
 Nor are the meadows whiten'd now with hoarfrosts. 
 Now Cytherean Venus leads the dance by the light of the 
 moonbeams. 
 And, join'd with Nymphs, the band of comely Graces 
 
6 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Shake the earth with alternate feet, while amid the Cyclops 
 swarthy 
 Vhe ardent Vulcan labours at his forges. 
 Now fitting is it either to bind the shining head with myrtle 
 garland. 
 Or with the flow'rs from Earth no longer frost-bound ; 
 Now too do sacrifice to Faunus among the shady forests 
 
 Whether he ask the lamb or the kid rather. 
 Pale Death with foot impartial knocks at poor men's dwell- 
 ings. 
 And tow'rs of monarchs. O beloved Sestius, 
 The short sum of life forbids us to enter upon a length of 
 hope. 
 Soon Night will seize thee, and the fabled Manes, 
 And Pluto's shadowy home, whither when once thou hast 
 wander'd, 
 Nor shalt thou get by lot the banquets' kingdom, 
 Nor admire the tender Lycidas, with whom our whole 
 youth of the town 
 Is now in love, and soon the Virgins will be. 
 
 ODE V. (To Pyrrha.) 
 
 What youth, slender and fair, 'mid the thick rosebushes, 
 All with odours besprent, Pyrrha, caresses thee 
 'Neath thy grotto delightful ? 
 
 For whom bind'st thou thy golden hair, 
 
 In simplicity neat? Ah me ! how oft shall he 
 Mourn thy perfidy, and skies, that were once so fair, 
 Clouded over with tempests — 
 
 And the change of the Gods to him, 
 
IN ENGLISH. 7 
 
 Who enjoys thee, poor fool ! now in thy golden hour ! 
 Hoping thou wilt be all-loving, all fancy-free, 
 Knowing not the deceitful 
 
 Breeze. O ! wretched are they to whom 
 
 All untried thou art fair ! Me ! Neptune's holy wall 
 Shews, on tablet devote, to have hung up aloft 
 Garments dripping with Ocean, 
 Sacred to the strong God of sea ! 
 
 ODE VI. (To Agrippa.) 
 
 ^ Varius thee will describe brave and a conqueror, 
 ^ Varius, bard of the old song of Maeonia, 
 While each vict'ry he sings won by thy soldiery 
 Whether fought by the land or sea. 
 
 But, Agrippa, we have neither the pow'r for this, 
 Nor to picture the wrath of Thetis' stubborn son, 
 Nor wild wanderings of wily Ulixeus, 
 Nor stern Pelops' family; — 
 
 Slight for tasks such as these are any pow'rs of mine, 
 While both Modesty and Muse of the Lyre forbid 
 That I Cesar's great deeds, ay ! and your own, my friend, 
 Mar by feebly recording them. 
 
 Who can battle-clad Mars, tunic'd in adamant. 
 Write of worthily? w'ho, thee too, Meriones, 
 Dark wdth Ilion's dust ; or, by Minerva's help, 
 Tydeus' son, made a match for Gods ? 
 
 " Pronounce as a dissyllable. 
 
8 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 We, the songs of the feast ; — strifes of the girls with boys, 
 (VVith nails par'd, not to hurt,) sing in our leisure hours, 
 Or, if e'er in our sports Cupid enflames our heart, 
 'Tis our usual levity. 
 
 ODE VII. (To Plancus.) 
 
 Other poets will praise the renown'd Rhodes, or Mitylene, 
 
 Or Ephesus, and the double-sea Corinth, 
 Or Thebes noted for Bacchus, or Delphi renown'd for 
 Apollo, 
 
 Or charms of Thessalian Tempe. 
 There are, whose one work it is, the tow'rs of Pallas 
 unblemish'd 
 
 In their perpetual song to ennoble, 
 And to prefer the olive to all the leaves of the forest. 
 
 Many a one, in honour of Juno, 
 Praises her Argos so noted for horses, and wealthy Mycenae. 
 
 Me not so the firm Lacedaemon, 
 Nor so greatly has struck the plain of the fertile Larissa, 
 
 As does Albunea's resonant mansion. 
 And headlong Anio, and the grove of Tiburnus, and 
 orchards 
 
 Fed with the rivulets' limpid water. 
 As from the face of the sky the south wind blows away 
 storm-clouds, 
 
 Nor doth it always produce the showers, 
 So do thou in thy wisdom be careful to finish thy sorrows 
 
 And all the varied labours of lifetime, 
 Plancus, in mellow wine, whether thou be detain'd in the 
 warlike 
 
 Camp, or whether the shade shall attract thee 
 
IN ENGLISH. 9 
 
 Of thv lov'd Tibur. For thus, when Teucer left home and 
 his father, 
 Still sustaining his courage with Bacchus, 
 He is said to have crown'd his brows with a chaplet of 
 poplar, 
 Thus addressing his sorrowful comrades ; 
 " Whithersoever we go, led by fortune, more kind than 
 a parent, 
 '['here will we go, my friends and companions ; — 
 Ne^-er despair, while Teucer is with you, your guide, and 
 your augur, 
 For most surely Apollo has promis'd 
 That a new Salamis, twin to the old, shall the new land 
 afford us. 
 O brave friends, who have oft with your leader 
 Suffer'd worse trials, cheer up, let sorrows dissolve in the 
 wine-cup, 
 We will try the vast ocean to-morrow." 
 
 ODE VIII. (To Lydia.) 
 
 Lydia, say, I pray thee, 
 By all the Gods I pray, why, by love of Sybaris, 
 
 You destroy him, why the sunny 
 Campus he hates, he, once so patient of the dust and sun — 
 
 Why no longer as soldier 
 He rides among his equals, nor the Gallic horses 
 
 Tempers with bit and bridle. 
 Why fears he to touch the yellow Tiber, why the olive 
 
 More than the blood of viper 
 Does he shun, and now no longer carries 
 
 His arms all blue with discus 
 
lO THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Or javelin often sent beyond the boundary far, 
 
 Why he hides, as Achilles 
 Did (they say) of old before the tearful Trojan 
 
 Funerals, lest his manly 
 Habit should hurry him to slaughter and the Lycian bands. 
 
 ODE IX. (To Thaliarciius.) 
 
 See how Soracte stands, white with deep'ning snow, 
 Nor can the lab'ring forests sustain the load 
 That presses on them, while the rivers 
 Stand all congeal'd into icy masses. 
 
 Dissolve the cold, and pile the logs plenteously 
 Over the hearth, and with liberality 
 
 Draw forth the Sabine four-year-old wine, 
 O Thaliarchus, from out the pitcher. 
 
 Leave to the Gods the rest, who, when once they have 
 Lull'd stormy winds contending with ocean-waves. 
 Nor shakes the cypress e'er so gently. 
 
 Nor does the ash of the mountain quiver — 
 
 What brings to-morrow care not to ask, and what 
 Fortune each day may bring, set it down as gain, 
 Nor, while thy vigour lasts, despise thou 
 Pleasures of love, nor the joys of dancing. 
 
 While the moroseness due to advancing age 
 Whitens not yet thy head, let the walks and park 
 And gentle whispers heard at nightfall 
 Each be repeated at fitting seasons. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 11 
 
 Now, too, the pleasant laughter be heard, that tells 
 How lurking beauty hides in the corner-nook, 
 And token ravish'd from the arm, or 
 Finger, that daintily seems unwilling. 
 
 ODE X. (To Mercury.) 
 
 Mercury ! nephew eloquent of Atlas, 
 Who the fierce manners of our modern people 
 Hast with thy voice re-modell'd, and with art of 
 Comely palaestra. 
 
 Thee will I sing, great Jove's and all th' Immortals' 
 Messenger, parent of the curved lyre-string, 
 Crafty, whate'er it pleases thee, in frolic 
 Cheat to dissemble. 
 
 Thee when of old time he had threaten'd sorely. 
 While with his angry voice he bid thee straightway 
 Bring back his oxen, losing now his quiver, 
 Laugh'd out Apollo. 
 
 Then the Atridas, under thy protection, 
 Wealthy old Priam, w^hen he left his Ilium, 
 Safely eluded, and those foes of Troy, the 
 Thessaly camp-fires. 
 
 Thou pious souls in joyful habitations 
 Placest, and with thy golden wand coercest 
 Lightly the airy throng, to Heav'n and Hades 
 Equally welcome. 
 
12 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XI. (To Leuconoe.) 
 
 Seek not thou to enquire, (wrong to be known,) what to 
 
 me, what to thee, 
 End the Gods may have giv'n, Leuconoe, nor Babylonian 
 Numbers mystical try. Better it is, whate'er it be, to 
 
 bear. 
 Whether winters to come Jove may have giv'n, or may 
 
 give this, the last, 
 Which now, with pumice rocks, vainly oppos'd, weakens in 
 
 force the sea 
 Tyrrhene. O be thou wise, drink off thy wine, and from 
 
 life's shorten'd space 
 Cut off lengthening hope. E'en while we speak, envious 
 
 life will fly ; — 
 So make use of to-day, trusting the next, little as possible. 
 
 ODE XIL (On Augustus.) 
 
 What man or hero on the lyre or shrill-voic'd 
 Pipe wilt thou deign to celebrate, my Clio 7 
 What God, whom Echo from her deep recesses 
 Coyly repeateth ? 
 
 Either in Helicon's umbrageous borders, 
 Or above Pindus, or the gelid Hccmus, 
 Whence the dense forests the melodious Orpheus 
 Rashly attended, 
 
 Who with his mother's art the streams retarded 
 Full in their course, and swiftly-blowing tempests, 
 Who the oaks guided, with their bowing foliage 
 List'ning his music. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 13 
 
 What shall I say before the wonted praises 
 Due to the Parent both of Gods and mortals, 
 Who land and ocean regulates in all their 
 Various seasons? 
 
 Whence nothing greater than himself existeth, 
 Nor is there any like to him, or second, 
 Yet the next honour'd seat in high Olympus 
 Pallas hath taken. 
 
 Nor of thee. Liber, valorous in battle. 
 Will I be silent, nor of thee, the Virgin 
 Hostile to beasts, nor thee, with dart unerring, 
 Phoebus Apollo ! 
 
 Also Alcides, and the sons of Leda, 
 This one for horses, that for boxing famous ; — 
 Whose star of brightness, when on weary sailors 
 Once it has glitter'd ; — 
 
 Flows from the rocks the heaving wave of Ocean, 
 Settle the winds, and dissipate the storm-clouds ; — ' 
 And the fierce wave, obedient to their bidding, 
 Lulls on the ocean. 
 
 Next after these shall I record the Founder 
 Romulus, or Pompilius' quiet kingdom ; 
 Or the proud Tarquins' rods of state, or Cato's 
 Glorious ending? 
 
 Or shall I tell, with grateful strains, the Scauri, 
 Regulus ; or, amid the Punic slaughter, 
 PauUus, who gave so lavishly his life, or 
 Noble Fabricius? 
 
14 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 This man, and Curius with dishevell'd tresses ; 
 Fitted for war, and furious Camillus, 
 Poverty stern, and patrimony simple, 
 Rear'd for the battle. 
 
 See, like a tree with silent growth, Marcellus' 
 Glory increases, while the star of Julius, 
 E'en as the moon, among the lesser planets, 
 Splendidly glitters. 
 
 Father and Guardian of the human races, 
 Offspring of Saturn, unto thee great Caesar's 
 Fortunes are giv'n. Supreme, with Caesar second. 
 Thine the dominion ! 
 
 He, whether Parthians hanging over Latium 
 Drives he in conquest with a righteous triumph. 
 Or the subdu'd inhabitants of Orient, 
 Seres and Indians ; — 
 
 Less than Thee only, he a wide dominion 
 (ioverns with justice ; Thou, with car triumphant 
 Shakest Olympus, sending on unchaste groves 
 Thunderbolts hostile. 
 
 ODE XIII. (To Lydia.) 
 
 When thou, Lydia, Telephus' 
 Neck, with tint of the rose, praisest, and Telephus' 
 
 Arms of waxen hue, woe is me ! 
 With rage not to be quench'd hotly my liver swells. 
 
 Then, nor mind, nor the glow of health 
 Stays in settled abode, while down my cheeks the tear 
 
 Trickles stealthily, proving well 
 
IN ENGLISH. 15 
 
 With what slow-burning fires I am emaciated. 
 
 I burn, whether his rude attacks 
 Have soil'd shoulders of thine white as the driven snow, 
 
 Or when he in his drunkenness 
 Hath with mark of his teeth press'd thy young tender lips. 
 
 Trust me ! never a lasting love 
 Can'st thou look for from him, him who so barb'rously 
 
 Wounds those kisses which sweet Venus 
 With quintessence of her nectar impregnated. 
 
 Happy they ! thrice and more than thrice, 
 Whom unbroken the bond firmly unites, whose love. 
 
 Rent in twain by no bickerings. 
 Nought shall ever dissolve but the last day of life. 
 
 ODE XIV. (To THE Ship of State.) 
 
 Wilt thou. Ship of the State, put out again to sea? 
 Tost by new-sweUing waves — What do'st thou ? Keep to 
 port, 
 See'st thou not how already 
 
 Bare the banks of thy rowers are ? 
 
 And thy mast, stricken by swift-blowing Africus, 
 And thy yard-arms creak, while, cordage all gone, thy keel 
 All expos'd and defenceless. 
 
 Scarce can bear the rude ocean's force, 
 
 Dashing wildly ? Thy sails, see, are not now entire. 
 Nor are Gods left, whom thou mayest again invoke, 
 Though a Pontian Pine-tree, 
 
 Daughter thou of a noble wood — 
 
l6 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Both thy race and thy name now are a useless boast, 
 Nor can sailors in fear trust to a painted hull, — 
 See ! oh see ! that a laughter 
 
 Thou become not to winds ! Beware ! 
 
 T^ou who late to me wert anxious solicitude, 
 Now ! my yearning, and no light weight of care to me, 
 See thou shun the false waters 
 'Twixt the glittering Cyclades. 
 
 ODE XV. (The Fall of Troy.) 
 
 When that perfidious shepherd was hurrying 
 O'er the plains of the deep, Helen, his hostess fair, 
 Nereus lull'd into sad quietness ocean's waves. 
 
 That dire fates he might thus proclaim ; — 
 
 " Oh ! with augury ill now art thou bringing home 
 Her whom Greece with her hosts armed again shall seek, 
 Sworn together to break through thy soft marriage-joys, 
 And old Priam's dominion ! 
 
 *' Ah me ! what labour dire presses on horse and man ! 
 What deaths dost thou prepare for the Dardanian 
 Nation ! See, Pallas now helmet and ^gis stern 
 And her chariot and rage prepares — 
 
 ''Vainly, fierce in thy trust in Venus' influence. 
 Shall thou comb out thy hair, tuning thy love-ditties 
 On effeminate lyre, pleasing to womankind, 
 Vainly, hiding in bedchamber, 
 
IN ENGLISH. 17 
 
 '* Wilt thou spears and the swift Gnossian dart avoid. 
 And the shrill battle-cry, and the pursuer swift, 
 Ajax ; ah ! but too late, for thy adulterous 
 
 Lovelocks soon shall be smear'd with dust ! 
 
 " Seest not thy nation's fell foe, Laertiades ? 
 Seest not, hostile to thee, Nestor the Pylian ? 
 \Vhile, all dauntless, thy foes press — Salaminian 
 Teucer, Sthenelus, skill'd in fight ; 
 
 " Or, if need were to guide safely the warhorses. 
 No mean charioteer — Meriones, to boot, 
 Thou shalt well-know — see one, raging to find thee out, 
 Brave old Tydeus, his braver son — 
 
 " Whom thou, timid as stag flying the wolf he sees 
 Near him, down in the vale, heedless of pasturage, 
 Shalt flee, panting with fear, weak and effeminate. 
 Not such promise thou gav'st thy love — 
 
 ''What though partial delay angry Achilles' fleet 
 Shall to Ilium cause, and to the Phrygian dames — 
 When fix'd winters are o'er, Ilion's palaces 
 
 Shall be burnt in the Grecian flames ! " 
 
 ODE XVI. (A Palinode.) 
 
 O DAUGHTER fairer e'en than thy mother fair. 
 Just how you please destroy my Iambic lines, 
 (Those wretched verses), in the fire-flames. 
 Or, if you like, in the Adrian ocean. 
 
 c 
 
l8 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Not Dindymene, not from his inmost shrines 
 Shakes the priest's mind the Pythian inhabitant. 
 Not Bacchus so, nor Corybantes, 
 
 When they redouble their brazen cymbals — 
 
 As baleful anger, which neither Norican 
 Sword can restrain, nor shipwrecking ocean-tirlcs, 
 Nor fire, nor, with tremendous tumult 
 Jupiter rushing, himself, to battle. 
 
 They say, Prometheus did to our primal clay, 
 (Forc'd thus to act,) add composite particles 
 From all parts, and the strength of lions — 
 All in their fury, to human anger. 
 
 Anger, Thyestes with complete overthrow 
 Destroy'd, and has to loftiest cities been 
 The cause of their entire suppression — 
 
 Placing their walls 'neath the foemen's ploughshare. 
 
 Compose thy' mind, for me too the warmth of youth 
 Has in my breast stirr'd up the insane desire 
 Of writing off my swift Iambics, 
 
 Foolish indeed, and the work of madness. 
 
 But now I wish to make the blest interchange. 
 Change for the mild, of sorrowful acts of yore, 
 If only thou to me be friendly, 
 
 (Owning my fault,) and restore my life back. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 19 
 
 ODE XVII. (To TvNDARis.) 
 
 Oft for Lycaeus balmy Lucretilis 
 Faunus exchanges, and in the summer's heat 
 From off my flock of tender she-goats 
 
 Keeps the hot \Yeather and rainy tempests. 
 
 Safely throughout the length of the grove, the mates 
 Of the strong-smelling husband, the arbutus 
 Crop, and tlie thyme so sweetly fragrant. 
 Nor do they fear the green viper's venom. 
 
 No, nor the martial wolves of Haedilia, 
 Whene'er from thy sweet woodland-reed, Tyndaris, 
 Thy valleys and thy sheeny lime -rocks, 
 Sloping Ustica, resound with music. 
 
 The Gods protect me — To them, my piety 
 And muse are grateful ; — Here shall a bountiful 
 Supply of all the rural honours 
 
 Flow to the full from the horn of plenty. 
 
 Here, in retiring valley, the Dogstafs heat 
 Shalt thou avoid ; — with Teian minstrelsy 
 Telling how both strove for one lover ; — 
 Penelope and the glassy Circe. 
 
 Here, too, the cups of innocent Lesbian 
 Thou in the shade shalt quaff, nor have cause to fear 
 Lest Semele's gay son, Thyoneus, 
 Battle with Mars, or the saucy fellow 
 
20 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Cyrus on thee, too weak to resist liis force, 
 Put forth his hands, too fiercely incontinent, 
 And rudely tear the verdant chaplet 
 
 Off from thy hair, or thy guileless raiment. 
 
 ODE XVIII. (To Varus.) 
 
 Varus, see that you plant, out of all trees, nothing beside 
 
 the Vine 
 Round the rich soil of mild Tibur, or round lofty Catilian 
 
 walls ; — 
 For to those who are dry everything hard God hath ordaind, 
 
 nor do 
 Anxious cares of the mind, gnawing the heart, dissipate 
 
 otherwise. 
 Who when well-drunk with wine, soldiery or poverty hn- : 
 
 laments ? H 
 
 Who does not thee the more, Bacchus our sire, and thee 
 
 extol, Venus ? 
 But lest any should go too far beyond moderate use of 
 
 wine, 
 The Centaurean strife wag'd o'er their cups with the fieic 
 
 Lapithas 
 Warns us, when in their lust men will o'erpass limits of 
 
 right and wrong. 
 This, too, Evius shews, justly severe to the Sithonians. 
 But I'll never disturb thee to thy hurt, liberal Bassareus, 
 Nor bring into rude gaze secrets of thine kept from the 
 
 vulgar herd 
 'Neath thy vine-trellis'd bowV. Only restrain thy Bere- 
 
 cynthian horn 
 
■^I'N ENGI.I'^H. 21 
 
 Which the bUnd love of self ceaselessly and vainly accom- 
 panies, 
 
 Aiui Vainglory, her head raising too high, empty altho' 
 it be, 
 
 A'ul that confidence which secrets reveals, clearer to view 
 than glass. 
 
 ODE XIX. (To Glycera.) 
 
 The fierce Mother of Cupid's twain, 
 Theban Semele's boy, too, hath commanded me, 
 
 (And lascivious Licentia,) 
 Ending love, to return back my soul free to her. 
 
 Glyc'ra's brilliancy dazzles me. 
 Shining purer than e'er Parian marble shines, 
 
 Her agreeable sauciness, 
 And her countenance, too slipp'ry to look upon. 
 
 Rushing wholly upon my soul 
 \'enus Cyprus hath left, nor lets me Scythian 
 
 Sing, nor spirited Parthian, 
 Nor ought save what belongs to the soft reign of Love. 
 
 Bring me here living turf, my boy, 
 Bring, boys, bring to me here vervain and frankincense. 
 
 With a goblet of last year's wine — 
 When the victim is slain, she will relent to me. 
 
 ODE XX. (To M/ECENAS.) 
 
 C!heap Sabine wine thou'lt drink in mod'rate vessels, 
 (Wine in the Greek cask specially anointed 
 On the glad day when all the densely crowded 
 Theatre hail'd thee,) 
 
22 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Dear Knight Maecenas, with a shout so striking 
 That e'en the banks of thy paternal river 
 Utter'd thy praise, and fiU'd with echoing sounds the 
 Vatican mountain. 
 
 Caecuban wine, and luscious juice Calenian, 
 This thou shalt drink at home ; — the cups I give thee 
 Neither the Formian hills supply with vintage, 
 Nor the Falernian. 
 
 ODE XXL (The Delian Gods.) 
 
 Praise Diana, ye sweet virgins of tenderness. 
 Boys, too, sing the unshorn Phoebus the Cynthian, 
 And Latona, by highest 
 
 Jove entirely belov'd of old. 
 
 Praise her, maidens, who loves both the green forest glades, 
 And the streams hanging o'er winterly Algidus, 
 Or the dark Erymanthus, 
 
 Or the woods of the green Cragus ; — 
 
 Boys, in similar strains Tempe be magnified. 
 And Apollo's renown'd birthplace, the Delian Isle — 
 Noted both for his quiver, 
 
 And adorn'd with his brother's lyre. 
 
 He shall, war with its tears ; he, wretched famine's pangs, 
 And plague from people and Caesar, their noble prince, 
 To the Persians and Britons 
 Send, induc'd by his suppliants. 
 
 4 
 
IN ENGLISH. 
 
 ODE XXIL (To Fuscus.) 
 
 He who is pure and free from guile, my Fuscus, 
 Ne'er shall he need the darts of Mauritania, 
 No ! nor the bow, nor quiver, laden full with 
 Poisonous arrowG. 
 
 Whether he journey through the sultry Syrtes, 
 Or the inhospitable lands Caucasian, 
 Or thro' the regions which Hydaspes washes, 
 Fabl'd in story. 
 
 For, as I stray'd within the Sabine forest, 
 Singing my mistress Lalage, and wander'd 
 Careless and free, a wolf beheld, and fled me, 
 Wholly defenceless. 
 
 Such a fierce beast as neither in the warlike 
 Daunia roams, within its wade-spread beech-groves, 
 Nor Juba's territory breeds, the barren 
 Birthplace of lions. 
 
 Place me in arid fields of desolation, 
 \vhere never trees are fannM by summer breezes, 
 Wiicre clouds of winter gather, and the stormy 
 Weather oppresses — 
 
 I lace me beneath the sun's oppressive chariot, 
 (Country unfit for human habitation,) 
 There will I love my Lalage, so sweetly 
 Smiling and speaking. 
 
J4 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XXIII. (To Cmloe.) 
 
 Cm. OK I like timid fawn flee'st thou away from me, 
 Wliich thro' wild woodland brakes follows its mother-deer, 
 Timid, not without useless 
 
 Fear of breezes and woodland-.sjales. 
 
 For if spring's soft advance, rustling with forest-leaves, 
 Moves with each passing gale quiv'ringly, or the green 
 Lizards in the bush, she shakes, 
 
 Tremblins; both in her heart and knees. 
 
 Uut not like tiger fierce, bent on attacking thee, 
 Or Cioetulia's fierce lion, I follow thee, 
 Cease to cling to thy mother. 
 
 Full-ripe now for a man's embrace. 
 
 ODE XXIV. (To Virgil.) 
 
 With what shame shall we mourn? (What shall our • 
 
 limit be ?) 
 One so dearly belov'd? Teach me, Melpomene, 
 Mournful strains, thou to whom great Father Jupiter 
 Gave both voice and melodious lyre ! 
 
 Does then perpetual slumber of death oppress 
 Noble Quinctilius? When shall true Modesty, 
 Incorruptible Faith, — Truth's clear transparency, 
 Find one fitted to equal him ! 
 
 Sorely mourn'd by the good, many good men, he dies, 
 But by none more than thou, Virgil, his best of friends, 
 Ah me ! vainly does e'en piety such as thine 
 Ask Quinctilius of the Gods ! — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 25 
 
 Not thus trusted to thee ! What tho', Hke Orpheus, 
 Thou could'st Hstening woods move by thy melody, 
 Not thus \\(<^ would return back to the ghostly form 
 Which once with his tremendous rod, 
 
 He, by tears and by prayVs all unappeasable, 
 Merr'ry. has with his dark flock down to Hades driv'n, 
 Hard lot I Yes ! but the griefs which we may not pre- 
 vent 
 
 Patience still will alleviate. 
 
 ODE XXV. (To Lydia.) 
 
 Skldomer now they rap thy fasten'd windows 
 With frequent knocks, the youths erewhile so saucy, 
 Nor do they now disturb thy sleep, the threshold 
 Hugs the door closely ; — 
 
 Which once so glibly turn'd on easy hinges, 
 Less now and less thou hear'st the serenaders — 
 "While I am dying for thee all the night long, 
 " Lydia, sleep'st thou ? " 
 
 Thou in thy turn, when old, the proud young gallants 
 Wilt deplore, weeping in some lonely alley, 
 While howl the louder at the changing quarter 
 Thracian storm-winds. 
 
 What time thy flagrant love and lusty passion, 
 (Such as the dams of horses stirs to fury,) 
 Rages around thy liver full of ulcers, 
 Not without murmur 
 
26 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 That the glad youth in froHcsome enjoyment 
 Likes but young shoots of ivy and of myrtle, 
 While the dry leaves it flings to icy Hebrus, 
 Comrade of Winter. 
 
 ODE XXVI. (To THE Muses.) 
 
 Friend to the Muses, sorrow and anxious fears 
 To the wild winds, to bear to the Cretan sea, 
 Will I deliver — who 'neath Arctos 
 
 May be the king of that icy country — 
 
 W^hat Tiri dates may be affrighted at — 
 Caring in nowise — ^Thou who in Virgin-founts 
 Delightest, twine me sunny garlands, 
 Twine for my Lamia, twine a chaplet, 
 
 Pimplea, sweet one ! Nothing, apart from thee, 
 Profit my honours ! Him with thy newest strains, 
 Him with the Lesbian lyre to hallow, 
 Thee and thy sisters it well becometh. 
 
 ODE XXVIL (A Banquet.) 
 
 Fighting with goblets made for the use of joy, 
 O ! 'tis a Thracian custom ! Away with it ! 
 And spare the modesty of Bacchus 
 
 From the disgrace of your bloody quarrels. 
 
 O what a frightful difference lies between 
 Wine and the lamps, and Median scimetar ! 
 
 Cease, cease your impious clamour, comrades, 
 And on your elbows at ease be resting. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 27 
 
 And must I share the heady Falernian ? 
 ])o you insist ? Then let the Opuntian 
 Megilla's brother, happy fellow ! 
 
 Tell by whose arrow he lies a-dying. 
 
 Say, will he not? I'll drink on no other terms. 
 For, be assur'd, whoever thy mistress be. 
 She with no fires to be asham'd of 
 
 Kindles thee, and with a true affection 
 
 Sinn'st thou ;— Thy secret ! Come, my boy, out with it ! 
 Safe are my ears to hear it. O misery ! 
 In what a terrible Charybdis 
 
 Strugglest thou, worthy a nobler passion ! 
 
 What witch, what magic pow'r, wdth Thessalian 
 Drugs, nay what God himself, can deliver thee ? 
 Scarce, bound in that threefold Chimaera, 
 Pegasus' self can release the victim. 
 
 ODE XXVI I L (Archytas.) 
 
 Thee, of the sea and land and the ocean-sand wantinsj in 
 number 
 Meas'rer, now there detain, Archytas, 
 Just a few grains of sand from near the shore of Matinum, — 
 
 Trifling gift, — nor does it aught avail thee 
 That m thy mind thou hast traver^'d high heav'n, and its 
 airy dominions, 
 And run through the round world, being mortal ! 
 Died too, as well as thou, Pelops' sire, tho' the guest of 
 Immortals, 
 And Tithonus, remov'd into heaven. 
 
2S THK ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 And Minos, tho' to the counsels of Jove admitted ;— 
 detaineth 
 Tartarus, Panthoides, to fell Orcus 
 Sent yet again, tho' his shield, taken down from the wall, 
 had attested 
 I'riumphs at Troy, and that nothing more than 
 Nerves and skin had he left to give to Death's dreary 
 dominion, 
 In thy opinion, no mean decider 
 Both of Nature and Truth; — But all of us one night awaiteth, 
 
 And death's path, to be once for all trodden, 
 Others the Furies give to savage Mars, to be gaz'd at, 
 
 Ocean, with greedy tide, swallows tlie sailors. 
 'I'hrong'd are the funerals both of the old and young, mix'd 
 together. 
 None does the terrible Proserpine pass by. 
 Me too the swift-blowing wind, the comrade of head-long 
 Orion, 
 Hath in Illyrian waves overwhelmed. 
 B-jt thou, sailor, I pray, do not spare in unkindness, to 
 give me 
 For my poor bones and my head all unburied 
 Just a few grains of sand, so thou, tho' the East wind may 
 threaten 
 Rage to Hesperia's billows, whatever 
 Woods of Venusium's forest may suffer, shalt still be in safety. 
 
 And, from each quarter, much gain shall await thee 
 l>ot!i from just Jove, and Neptune, the guardian oi hol\ 
 Tarentum ! 
 But should you chance to commit an unkindness 
 Which will injure the lot of your undeserving descendants, 
 Just retribution and equally felt scorn 
 
IN ENGLISH. 29 
 
 ^[ay be your lot ! Be assur'd, My pray'rs will not 1^0 
 unavenged, 
 And no atonement will then release thee, 
 \V1iat tho' you be in haste? the delay is not long— you 
 may hasten 
 When the dust has been first thrice sprinkl'd. 
 
 ODE XXIX. (To Iccius.) 
 Iccius, you now are foolishly envying 
 Wealth of Arabians, and are preparing war 
 For hitherto untam'd Sabaean 
 
 Potentates, and for the direful Median 
 
 Are forging fetters. Which of the barbarous 
 Virgins will serve thee, now that her spouse is dead, 
 What boy from hall, with hair anointed, 
 Shall as thy cupbearer take his station, 
 
 Taught from his father's bow to direct the shaft ? 
 Who shall deny that down from the mountain-top 
 Rivers may take their courses headlong, 
 And e'en old Tiber reverse his current ;— 
 
 When thou Pansetius' valuable library. 
 Bought from all quarters, and the Socratic lore, 
 For coats of mail art now exchanging, 
 
 Thou ! from whom better had been expected ! 
 
 ODE XXX. (To Venus.) 
 
 O Venus, Queen of Cnidos and of Paphos, 
 Spurn thy beloved Cyprus, and, propitious, 
 Come to the house of CUyc'ra, who with incense 
 Duly invokes thee ! 
 
30 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Bring, too, thy glowing Boy, and all the Graces 
 With their zones loos'd, and let the nymphs haste hither, 
 Youth too, but little elegant without Thee, 
 Mercury also. 
 
 ODE XXXI. (Philosophy of Life.) 
 
 What does the Poet ask at x^pollo's shrine ? 
 What does he pray for, while from the goblet he 
 Pours the new liquor? not Sardinia's 
 
 Harvests so rich in their golden treasure — • 
 
 No ! nor the herds of sunny Calabria, 
 Nor the rich gold, nor Indian Ivory, 
 Nor countries which the quiet Liris 
 Slowly devours with its silent water — 
 
 Let those with sharp Calenian pruning-hook 
 Dress up the vines which Fortune has given them— 
 Let the rich merchant drain from golden 
 Cups wine obtain'd from his Syrian traffic — 
 
 Dear to the Gods full surely, for thrice and more 
 He the Atlantic yearly has visited 
 All safely; — my support the olive, 
 Chicory too, and the tender mallow. 
 
 Health to enjoy the blessings thou givest mc, 
 Cirant me, Latoe, with a sound mind, I pray; 
 Nor let my age be e'er unhonour'd. 
 Nor unattended with lyric measures. 
 
( 
 
 ' IN ENGLISH. 
 
 ODE XXXII. (To HIS Lyre.) 
 
 We are call'd. If, at ease beneath the shadow, 
 We have play'd with thee ; — raise, my lyre, a Latin 
 Stanza, which through this year may Uve, and many 
 Years in the future. 
 
 First wert thou tun'd by citizen of Lesbos, 
 W'ho, fierce in batde, still, amidst his fighting, 
 t)r if his storm-tost vessel he had fasten'd 
 Down on the shingle ; — 
 
 Liber, the Muses, Venus too, and Cupid 
 Clinging quite close to her, was ever singing, 
 And Lycus, noted for his eyes and tresses 
 Darksomely shining. 
 
 O Grace of Phoebus, O my lyre, supremely 
 Welcome at banquets of the Gods — my labours' 
 Sweet recreation — ever hail to me, who 
 Duly invoke thee ! 
 
 ODE XXXIII. (To TiBULLUS.) 
 
 Grieve not, Albius mine, grieve not excessively 
 For harsh Glycera, nor in your sad elegies 
 Mourn, because she with her broken fidelity 
 Loves a junior paramour. 
 
 See, Lycoris, renown'd for forehead low and fine. 
 Love of Cyrus enflames ; Cyrus on Pholoe 
 Turns his love-glances, but first with Apulian 
 
 Wolves let tender young kids be join'd, 
 
32 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Than should Pholoe sin with base adulterer, 
 No ! F'or thus Venus wills, who diff'rent forms and minds 
 Places, all overpow'red, under her brazen yoke, 
 With a savage jocosity. 
 
 Me when some more refin'd Venus would influence. 
 Sweet young ]Myrtale kept fast in her pleasing bonds. 
 Slave-born ; — rougher than e'en Hadria's ocean-waves. 
 Curving bays of Calabria. 
 
 ODE XXXIV. (His Religion.) 
 
 I, BUT a rare and niggardly worshipper, 
 While a proficient in mad philosophy 
 
 I wander'd once, my course to alter 
 
 Now am compell'd, and retrace the courses 
 
 Which once I left. For mighty Diespiter 
 (Cleaving the clouds with glittering flames of fire 
 In wonted action,) throus^h clear heaven 
 
 Drove thund'ring steeds with his winged chariot — 
 
 With which the sluggish earth and its wand Ving streams, 
 Styx, and th' abode of terrible T«narus, 
 And distant Atlantean borders 
 
 Shook to their depths. For His Power availeth 
 
 To change the high and low, and abase the proud 
 
 Raising the lowly, while the proud height of fame 
 
 Fortune supreme with thrilling clangour 
 
 Snatches from some, and bestows on others. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 
 
 ODE XXXV. (To Fortune.) 
 
 Goddess, who rulest beautiful Antium, 
 Present to raise from depths of adversity 
 The mortal body, or proud triumphs 
 
 Quickly to change to funereal wailings ; — 
 
 Thee with petition anxious the countryman 
 Prays, thee supreme ; — thee, lady of ocean-waxe, 
 Whoever in Bithynian vessel 
 
 Voyages o'er the Carpathian ocean. 
 
 Thee the rough Dacian, thee, wand'ring Scythian-hordes, 
 Cities and nations, and the fierce Latium, 
 And mothers of barbaric kings, and 
 
 Tyrants, tho' cloth'd in imperial purple ; — • 
 
 Lest with destructive foot thou should'st overturn 
 The standing column, and the dense multitude 
 Should call the loiterers to battle. 
 And overthrow the Imperial fabric. 
 
 Ever precedes thee savage Necessity, 
 Bearing in brazen hand both the wedge and nails 
 Fit for great' beams of solid buildings, 
 
 Likewise the hook and the lead all molten. 
 
 Thee Hope and rare white-vested Fidelity 
 
 Ever attend, nor would they thy company 
 
 Relinquish, tho' with changed garments 
 
 Thou should'st desert the palatial dwellings. 
 
 D 
 
34 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 But the low herd, and harlot of broken faith 
 Perjur'd retire, and when they have drain'd the cask 
 Down to the lees, they fly like cowards, 
 Falsely refusing to bear the burden. 
 
 Safeguard our Caesar e'en to Britannia's 
 Limits, and, with him, Rane's latest progeny 
 Of youths, about to be a terror 
 
 To the Red Sea, and the distant Orient. 
 
 Shame on our scars and discord of civil war ! 
 What shape of crime does this stubborn age refuse ? 
 What form of evil unattempted 
 
 Have we left ? What has the fear of Heaven 
 
 Restrain'd ; what altars has our rude impious hand 
 Spar'd in our Temples? O that on anvil new 
 Thou wouldest forge our blunted weapons 
 'Gainst the Massa2:etoe and Arabians ! 
 
 •■o' 
 
 ODE XXXVI. (For Numida's Return.) 
 
 Both with incense and lyre 'tis well, 
 And with blood of a calf slain to propitiate 
 
 The Gods, guardians of Numida, 
 Who now safely returns back from remotest Spain, 
 
 Dear to many companions. 
 Yet with none does he share kisses of love so much 
 
 As with Lamia, who recalls 
 Days of youth's early bloom under like auspices, 
 
 And how, donning the manly garb, 
 Each unitedly reach'd manhood in company. 
 
 Let the Cretan mark note the day. 
 
 J 
 
IN ENGLISH. 35 
 
 Wine-cask, and Salian measures together tript, 
 
 Nor let tippling young Damalis 
 Beat in contests of wine Bassus in Thracian-cup ! 
 
 Nor let roses our feasts desert, 
 Nor the parsley long liv'd, nor lily's transient bloom — 
 
 All on Damalis melting eyes 
 Will cast, but from her new friend she will never part, 
 
 Clinging more to our new-found guest, 
 Than the ivy, to oak clinging lasciviously. 
 
 ODE XXXVII. (The Death of Cleopatra.) 
 
 Now is the time to quaff, and to beat the ground 
 \\'ith foot untrammell'd ; Now deck the hallow'd shrines 
 Of all the Gods to us propitious. 
 
 With Saliarian feasts, my comrades ! 
 
 Ere this we dar'd not bring out the Cascuban 
 From cells ancestral, while for the Capitol 
 The Queen of Egypt madd'ning ruin 
 
 Plann'd, and for all our vast tract of Empire ; — 
 
 With her disgraceful herd of effeminates, 
 Foul with disease, she, madly for everything 
 Hoping, and now inebriated 
 
 With her good fortune. But soon her anger 
 
 Cool'd, when scarce one ship from the o'erspreading flames 
 Safely return'd, and her drink-besotted mind 
 C«sar with real fear affected. 
 
 Swiftly pursuing her flight from Italy 
 
36 THE ODES OF HORACE, IN ENGLISH. 
 
 E'en as a hawk the timorous dove pursues, 
 Or as a hunter follows the hare within 
 The snowy plains of fair ^^monia, — 
 That he midit bind her in chains of iron 
 
 O 
 
 As fatal monster. — She, the more generously 
 Seeking to perish, neither, with woman's dread, 
 Quail'd at the sword, nor swiftly voyag'd, 
 Seeking to find her a place of refuge — 
 
 Bold to survey, with eye never quivering, 
 Her palace-ruins ; brave to lay hold upon 
 The fatal adders, that within her 
 
 She might imbibe the dark deadly poison ; — 
 
 She, all the fiercer for her death nobly-plann'd, 
 Grudging forsooth the savage Liburnians 
 The joy of leading her in triumph. 
 
 Her — a proud Queen, and no humble woman ! 
 
 ODE XXXVIII. (To HIS Boy.) 
 
 Boy, I detest the Persian apparatus, 
 Wreaths that are bound with linden-rind displease me, 
 Care not to follow where the latest rose is 
 Tardily blooming. 
 
 See thou add nothing to the simple myrtle, 
 This I entreat thee — neither thee, the servant, 
 Misbecomes myrtle, nor thy master, drinking 
 Under the vine-leaf. 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 ODE I. (To PoLLio.) 
 
 War starting from Metellus's Consulship, 
 And the war's causes, faults, and vicissitudes. 
 And Fortune's laughing-stock, and baleful 
 Friendships of princes in league, and armour 
 
 Stain'd with the gore of unaton'd massacres, 
 (Work so replete with dang'rous uncertainty,) 
 Thou handiest, and through flames art walking 
 Laid underneath the deceitful ashes ! 
 
 Let then awhile the Muse of stern Tragedy- 
 Cease from the stage ; then, after the settlement 
 Of State affairs, thy great performance 
 In the Cecropian buskin claims thee. 
 
 Thou noble guard of mournful petitioners, 
 Thou, of the Court, my PoUio, chief renown ; — 
 For whom the laurel praise eternal 
 
 Hath in Dalmatian triumph purchas'd ; — 
 
 E'en now with threat'ning murmur of warlike horn 
 You thrill our ears, e'en now do the trumpets blow. 
 While the dread sheen of arms the horses 
 
 Frights, and the countenance of the horsemen. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 E'en now 1 seem to hear the great generals, 
 Soil'd with the dust of fights not inglorious. 
 And all the earth is subjugated 
 Save the invincible soul of Cato. 
 
 Juno retir'd (and each of the Gods who most 
 Favour'd the Afric cause), from the unaveng'd 
 Land, pow'rless ; and the Victor's grandsons 
 Offer'd as holocausts to Jugurtha. 
 
 What plain, enrich'd by Latian blood, does not 
 Witness, by graves, our impious civil wars ? 
 And testify Hesperia's ruin 
 
 Heard e'en to Media's farthest borders ? 
 
 What whirlpool, or what rivers, are ignorant 
 Of mournful battle ? which of the ocean-floods 
 Have Daunian slaughters not discolour'd ? 
 
 What shore is free from the Ranan blood-stain ? 
 
 But change not jests of cheerfulness for the dirge, 
 Suited to Cean funerals, O my Muse ! 
 With me beneath Dione's grotto 
 Seek for a livelier strain of music. 
 
 ODE II. (To Sallust.) - 
 
 Crispus Sallustius, enemy to bullion 
 Hidden away in avaricious hoardings, 
 Silver no lustre hath, unless it shines by 
 Moderate usage. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 39 
 
 Long shall the noble Proculeius flourish, 
 Known to his brethren for his love paternal, 
 Him shall surviving Fame exalt on pinions 
 Ne'er to be melted. 
 
 r- 
 Wider dominion shall be thine, by curbing 
 
 Greed m thy spirit, than by joining Libya 
 
 To remote Gades, bringing either Carthage 
 
 Under thy empire. 
 
 For the dire dropsy grows by self-indulgence, 
 Nor does its thirst cease, till the cause of sickness 
 Flee from the veins, and from the pallid frame the 
 Watery languor. 
 
 Virtue, dissenting from the crowd, Phraates 
 Reckons not happy, to the throne of Cyrus 
 Lately restor'd, and teaches all the people 
 How to use language 
 
 Rightly, the kingdom and the crown in safety 
 And laurel-wreath, for him alone reserving, 
 Who with an undiverted eye can witness 
 Wealth in abundance. 
 
 ODE in. (To OuiNTUS Dellius.) 
 
 See thou preserve a true equanimity 
 In seasons adverse, and in prosperity 
 A mind restrain'd from overweening 
 Joy, for, my Dellius, thou art mortal ! 
 
40 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Whether in sorrow all thy life long thou live, 
 Or in a distant glade on some holiday, 
 Thou lie at ease, the summer day long, 
 Quaffing the specially-mark'd Falernian; — ■ 
 
 Where the huge pine and snowy-white poplar-tree 
 Join boughs in shade of sweet hospitality, 
 And sparkling waters strive to hurry 
 
 Down from the crag in a sidelong current. 
 
 Here bring thy ointments, wine, and too transient 
 Flowers of the blooming beautiful summer-rose, 
 While age and circumstance permit thee. 
 And the dark threads of the Fatal Sisters — 
 
 Yes ! thou must leave thy lately-bought groves, and house, 
 And Villa, wash'd by old Tiber's golden waves — 
 jMust leave them, and thy pil'd up riches 
 Shall be possess'd by thy next descendant — 
 
 Say, art thou wealthy, born from old Inachus? 
 It matters not — or poor, and of low descent, 
 Living expos'd to open-air life 
 
 Victim thou art of unpitying Orcus — 
 
 We all are forc'd the same way ; — the lot of all, 
 Toss'd in the urn, comes sooner or later out, 
 And launches us in Charon's vessel, 
 Passengers to an eternal exile. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 41 
 
 ODE IV. (To Xanthias Phoceus.) 
 
 Let not thy passion for thy handmaid shame thee, 
 Xanthias Phoceus, for the fierce Achilles, 
 Insolent conq'ror, bow'd before the charms of 
 Snowy Briseis. 
 
 Yes ! and the form of beautiful Tecmessa 
 jNTov'd to her sway the Telamonian Ajax, 
 While great Atrides, in the midst of triumph, 
 Burn'd for a captive. 
 
 After the barb'rous troops had fall'n before him, 
 When the ThessaHan conquer'd, and slain Hector 
 Gave to the weary Greeks the walls of Troy, an 
 Easier capture. 
 
 Golden-hair'd Phyllis' parents, in the future, 
 Happy man ! as their son-in-law may grace thee, 
 Surely her birth is royal, and Penates 
 Mourns unpropitious. 
 
 Trust me, my friend, that she was never sprung from 
 Lowly plebeians, nor could one so faithful, 
 So free from av'rice, ever have been born of 
 Mother unworthy. 
 
 Yes ! her sweet face, and arms, and taper ankles, 
 Safely I praise ; avoid, I pray, suspecting 
 One whose age trembles on the verge of nearly 
 Finishing forty. 
 
42 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE V. (On Lalage.) 
 
 Not yet thy heifer's fit to sustain the yoke 
 With her neck bent ; — not yet has she strength to take 
 A partner's duties, or to bear the 
 
 Weight of the vigorous bull's embraces. 
 
 Her heart is still confin'd to the grassy meads, 
 ^VHiile she assuages in the cool streams her thirst, 
 Or takes delight amid the willows 
 
 Sporting to play with her young companions. 
 
 Wish not to pluck the grape till it's fully ripe ;— 
 Soon will the autumn's sun bring the deep'ning bloom. 
 And change into the purple colour 
 Bunches inviting participation. 
 
 Quickly she grows, and soon will she follow thee — ■ 
 The saucy time is adding to her the years 
 It takes from thee, and soon with wanton 
 Brow will young Lalage seek a husband. 
 
 Charming, belov'd, as e'er was coy Pholoe, 
 Or Chloris, and with shoulders of ivory 
 That shine as bright as on the nightly 
 
 Sea shines the moon — or the Cnidian Gyges,. 
 
 Whom if you plac'd amid bevy fair of girls, 
 The stranger-guest could scarce tell the difference 
 'Twixt them and him, his hair dishevell'd, 
 And with such doubtfully-sweet complexion. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 43 
 
 ODE VI. (To Septimius.) 
 
 Friend, who wilt go with me to farthest Gades, 
 Or to Cantabrian hitherto unconquer'd, 
 Or to wild Syrtes, where the Moorish wave is 
 Ceaselessly boiling ; — 
 
 Tibiir, the town of colonist Augean, 
 Be it the habitation of my old age, 
 Be it my goal, both with my land and water 
 Soldiery wearied ! 
 
 But if the Fates unequal shall forbid me — 
 Pleasant with well-shorn flocks the sweet Galsesus' 
 River I'll seek, and all the region rul'd by 
 Spartan Phalanthus. 
 
 That nook of country specially delights me, 
 Where the sweet honey rivals old Hymettus, 
 And where the olive-berry in its verdure 
 Vies with Venafrum. 
 
 Where spring is long, and Jupiter bestoweth 
 Mildness of winter, and the mountain Aulon, 
 Friendly to fertile Bacchus, envies not the 
 Grapes of Falernus. 
 
 That place, those happy tow'rs, invite thy presence ; — 
 Thine with my own — there, when my life is over, 
 Shalt thou bedew with tears thy friend the Poet's 
 Warm-glowing ashes ! 
 
44 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE VII. (To PoMPEius Varus.) 
 
 THOU, with me to direst extremity 
 Often reduc'd, when Brutus was general; — 
 
 Who hath restor'd thee now, a Roman, 
 Back to thy Gods and Italian climate, 
 
 Pompey, thou first of early companions ? 
 With whom the long day I've broken in upon 
 With wine, my hair adorn'd with chaplet, 
 Shining all over with Syrian ointment — 
 
 With thee, Philippi's battle and overthrow 
 
 1 felt, and left my shield in ignoble flight. 
 When ranks were broken, and the boasting 
 
 Heroes were laid on their faces prostrate. 
 
 But me in terror Mercury, swift of wing, 
 Bore thro' the hosts in cloudy envelopment, 
 While thee the wave of war ingulphing 
 Bore to the fight on its boiling billows. 
 
 AVherefore to Jove the feast that is due be paid, 
 And your limbs wearied with your long soldiery 
 Recline at ease beneath the laurel, 
 
 Nor spare the wine-casks intended for thee. 
 
 Fill the well-polish'd goblets with Massic wine, 
 Causing oblivion — pour from capacious jars 
 The fragrant unguents — who the parsley 
 Hastens to gather for twining garlands ? 
 
IN ENGLISH. 45 
 
 Or myrtle? Whom shall Venus as arbiter 
 ]Make o'er our revels ? I'll be as mad to-day 
 As e'en Edonians — A returning 
 
 Friend may well make a man mad with pleasure. 
 
 ODE VIII. (To Bartne.) 
 
 Did but the slightest punishment affect thee 
 For thy oaths broken, false and fair Barine, 
 Wert thou less comely by a tooth or nail but 
 Slightly discolour'd, 
 
 I could believe thee ; — But whene'er thou bindest 
 Falsely thy head with perfidy, thou shinest 
 Fairer by far, and from our youths receivest 
 Public attention. 
 
 Yes ! it is gain to cheat thy mother's ashes, 
 And the whole host of heav'nly constellations 
 Shining above us, and the Gods, exempt from 
 Frigid extinction. 
 
 Venus herself smiles on thee, I acknowledge. 
 And the kind Nymphs, and eke the savage Cupid, 
 Sharpening on his blood-besprinkl'd whetstone 
 Darts ever ardent. 
 
 Add, that for thee are all our young nien growing, 
 Ever new bondage theirs — while former lovers. 
 Leave not, tho" oft they've threaten'd it, Barine's 
 Impious thraldom. 
 
46 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 For their upgrowing offspring mothers fear thee, 
 Thee, frugal old men, and the wretched virgins 
 I.ately-vved, lest, enslav'd by thy attractions, 
 Tarry their husbands. 
 
 ODE IX. (To Valgius.) 
 
 Not always flow the show'rs on the rugged fields, 
 Nor ruffling whirlwinds over the Caspian sea 
 For ever blow in stormy current, 
 Valgius, nor in Armenian borders 
 
 i 
 
 .Stands thick the sluggish ice through the year, my triend, 
 Nor do Garganus' oak-groves with north-wind's blast 
 For ever groan, nor are the ash-trees 
 Always bereft of their verdant foliage — 
 
 Yet your lost Mystes you in bewailing strains 
 Are ever mourning, nor does your love depart, 
 C>r at the rise of glowing Vesper, 
 
 Or when she pales at the Sun's swift rising. .J 
 
 Yet Nestor, who through three generations liv'd, 
 Did not his lost Antilochus always mourn. 
 Nor did the weeping Phrygian sisters 
 Troilus, dying in youth, for ever 
 
 Sadly lament. O ! cease your weak sorrowing, 
 Cease it at last ! and let us the rather sing 
 The trophies of Augustus Caesar 
 
 Nevvly-acquir'd, and the cold Niphates, 
 
IN ENGLISH. 47 
 
 And Median river, with less presumptuous tide 
 Flowing in humbler whirlpools, a conquer'd stream, 
 And, vanquish'd now, the stern Geloni 
 Riding within their confined limits. 
 
 ODE X. (To LiciNius.) 
 
 Better, Licinius, wilt thou live, by neither 
 Tempting the deep for ever, nor, while tempests 
 Cautiously shunning, by too closely hugging 
 Shores that are treach'rous. 
 
 He who the golden mean adopts, is ever 
 Free from the sorrows of a squalid dwelling ; — 
 Free from the cares attending on the envied 
 Halls of the wealthy. 
 
 Oftener by the winds the tall and mighty 
 Pine trees are shaken ; and with heavier ruin 
 Lofty tow'rs fall, and bolts of thunder strike the 
 Tops of the mountains. 
 
 Minds that are well-prepar'd, in adverse seasons 
 Hope for a change, and fear it in the prosp'rous, 
 Tis the same Jove who sends, and who removes the 
 Storms of the winter. 
 
 Not tho' things now are sad, will they hereafter 
 Always be so, for great Apollo keeps not 
 Ever his bow bent, but the sleeping Muses 
 Wakens with lyre-string. 
 
48 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 When things are adverse, bear your lot with firmness, 
 Brave, and with good heart, like a man of spirit. 
 And at the same time furl your swelling canvas 
 When the gale heightens. 
 
 ODE XI. (To QuiNTius Hirpinus.) 
 
 What thinks the Scythian fierce, or Cantabrian, 
 Quintius Hirpinus, sever'd by Adria, 
 Enquire not thou, nor vex thyself with 
 Care in a life of so few requirements. 
 
 Smooth youth and beauty quickly fly back, while age 
 Comes with its barren hoariness, speedily 
 Dispelling joys of wanton dalliance. 
 
 And the light slumber of youthful vigour. 
 
 Not always does the spring-bloom remain in flow'rs, 
 Nor does the glowing Moon at all times display 
 The same appearance, why with endless 
 Cares vex a spirit too weak to bear them ? 
 
 Why then, beneath this plane-tree or pine, at ease 
 Should not we rest, reclining so carelessly. 
 Our silver locks adorn'd with roses, 
 While we may, and with Assyrian ointment 
 
 Drink 'mid the perfumes ? — Evius dissipates 
 Cares that annoy us — What boy will speediest 
 Cool me the cups of hot Falernian 
 
 With the clear draught of the passing streamlet ? 
 
IN ENGLISH. 49 
 
 Who'll bring coy roving Lyde from home to us ? 
 Tell her to hasten here with her iv'ry lyre, 
 With tresses all unkempt behind her, 
 Daintily knotted in Spartan fashion. 
 
 ODE XIL (To MAECENAS.) 
 
 Join not terrible wars of fierce Numantia 
 Nor dire Hannibal's self, nor the Sicilian sea, 
 Purpl'd over with blood of Carthaginian hosts, 
 To the lyre with its dulcet strains. 
 
 Nor the fierce Lapitbae, and too-fnebriate 
 Hylaeus, and the youths slain by Herculean hand, 
 Tellus' offspring, from whose fate the refulgent house 
 Of O'ld Saturn fear'd jeopardy. 
 
 And in prose thou shalt then better immortalize 
 All the battles our great Caesar hath won for us, 
 Maecenas, and the proud necks of the haughty kings 
 Led in triumph through streets of Rome. 
 
 Me, the songs of my sweet mistress Licymnia, 
 Me, the Muse bids her eyes, shining so bright, to sing, 
 And her breast to proclaim, faithful and true to love 
 - With its mutual ecstasies. 
 
 Who can gracefully join foot in the festive dance, 
 And strive playfully, while joining her snowy arms 
 In the sport with her bright virgin-companions 
 On Diana's great festal day. 
 
 E 
 
50 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Would'st thou, all that e'er held wealthy Achaemenes, 
 Or Mygdonian wealth, Phrygia so fertile owns. 
 Change for even one lock of thy Licymnia's hair, 
 Or the plentiful Arab homes ? — 
 
 While the burning embrace she with bent neck receives. 
 Or, perchance, with a coy sternness refuses you 
 What she sooner by far would that you snatch from her. 
 Nay ! she'll snatch them at times from you. 
 
 ODE XIII. (To HIS Tree.) 
 
 He in ill-omen'd day must have planted thee, 
 Whoever first, with hand sacrilegious, 
 
 Rear'd thee, for bane of our descendants, 
 And for the scandal of all the village — 
 
 He, I could think, had broken his father's neck, 
 And had defil'd his own penetralia 
 
 With blood of guest at night-time murder'd 
 Secretly, he the fell Colchian poisons, 
 
 And ev'ry form of evil had practis'd well. 
 Who plac'd thee in my field, for my overthrow, 
 Thee, tree accurst, thee, just a-falling 
 On me, thy all-undeserving master — 
 
 What each should fear, we guard not enough against, 
 Each hour : — the Carthaginian mariner 
 Dreads depths of Bosphorous, nor fears he 
 Hidden fate from any other quarter — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 51 
 
 The soldier fears the arrows of Parthians, 
 And their swift flight ; — the Parthian, Roman chains, 
 And Roman force, but Death's unlook'd for 
 Pow'r hath destroy'd, and will still, the nations. 
 
 How nearly had we Proserpine's kingdom seen ! 
 And all the pomp of .■Eacus' judgment-seat ! 
 And distant realms of all the blessed, 
 And Sappho, wailing on flute .-^olian 
 
 Insults received from girls of her native land, 
 And thee, more fully sounding on golden string, 
 Alc^us, hardships of the ocean, 
 
 Hardships of flight, and of savage battle ! 
 
 While either sings, the shades gather wond'ring round. 
 And sacred silence keep throughout all the groves, 
 But chiefly fights and death of tyrants 
 
 Drinks in the crowd in its should'ring masses. 
 
 AVhat wonder ! when at such soul-entrancing strains 
 The hundred-headed beast droops his ears to hear, 
 And e'en the Furies' snakes untwisted 
 Snatch for a season a blissful solace ! 
 
 Also Prometheus, and Pelops' famous sire, 
 Are of their labours by music's pow'r beguil'd, 
 Nor cares Orion now, the lions 
 
 Or timid lynxes to drive before him ! 
 
52 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XIV. (To PosTUMUS.) 
 
 Ah me ! how quickly, Postumus, Postumus, 
 Glide by the years ! nor even can piety 
 Delay the wrinkles, and advancing 
 Age, and attacks of unconquer'd Hades. 
 
 Not if three hundred bullocks were ev'ry day 
 Slain to appease Hell's monarch, the Tearless one. 
 Who 'neath his sullen wave compresses 
 Geryon and Tityos, held in bondage — 
 
 Wave, which forsooth we all have to navigate, 
 Whether on earth as monarchs m pride we live. 
 Or whether in the humblest: places 
 
 We as poor husbandmen till the pasture — 
 
 Vainly we shun the horrors of bloody war, 
 And foaming breakers of the hoarse Adria, 
 In vain throughout the length of Autumn 
 Do we avoid the injurious Auster — 
 
 Still must we all see, flowing with darksome stream, 
 Wand'ring Cocytus, and the ill-fated race 
 Of Danaus, and, condemn'd of old time, 
 Sisyphus working in endless labour — 
 
 Fields must we leave, and house, and the amiable 
 Wife, nor, of all thy trees train'd so carefully. 
 Shall any but the hated cypress 
 
 Follow thee there — thee, its short-lived owner ! 
 
IN ENGLISH. 53 
 
 A worthier heir shall then drain thy Csecuban, 
 Guarded tho' now it be by a hundred keys — 
 And stain with wine thy polish'd pavement 
 Richer than flows at the feasts of pontiffs. 
 
 ODE XV. (To THE Roman People.) 
 
 Soon but few acres will to the plough be left 
 By regal buildings, wider than Lucrine lake 
 The private ponds extend on all sides, 
 
 Catching the eye, and th' unwedded plane-tree 
 
 Out-tops the elms. Then beds full of violets. 
 Myrtle, and all abundance of fragrant fiow'rs, 
 On olive-grounds will shed their odour. 
 Which yielded fruit to their foruier master, 
 
 Then, too, the laurel with shade impervious. 
 Shuts out the sun's rays ; — Not thus did Romulus 
 Ordain, and the unshaven Cato, 
 
 And the wise counsels of early Romans. 
 
 Slight then was each man's private expenditure, 
 Great the Republic's. Ay ! then no ten-foot rule 
 For private pleasure measur'd porches 
 
 Plann'd to receive the cool Northern breezes. 
 
 Nor did the laws then let them despise the turf 
 To roof their dwellings — though at the public charge 
 They bade them build the Towns and Temples 
 With the new stone for their decoration. 
 
i;4 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XVI. (To GROsnius.) 
 
 Ease, of the Gods the mariner petitions, 
 Caught in the wild and tempest-tost yEgean, 
 When the clouds hide the Moon, and stars uncertain 
 Shine on the sailors. 
 
 Ease, the fierce Thracian furious in battle, 
 Ease, too, the Medians graceful with the quiver, 
 Grosphus, which jewell'd treasures ne'er can purchase. 
 No ! nor the golden. 
 
 For neither wealth nor lictor of the Consul 
 Clears from the mind its miserable tumults, 
 Nor the vexatious cares that flutter round the 
 Ceil'd habitations ! 
 
 Well does he live on little, whose paternal 
 Salt-cellar glistens on his frugal table. 
 And whose light slumbers neither fear nor sordid 
 Avarice hinders. 
 
 Why, with false brav'ry, aim at many objects 
 In a short lifetime ? Why for other climates 
 Change we our own ? What exile from his country 
 Flies himself also? 
 
 Mischievous care ascends the brazen vessels. 
 Nor does she leave the squadrons of the horsemen, 
 Swifter than stags, and fleeter than the East-wind 
 Driving the storm-clouds. 
 
IX ENGLISH. 55 
 
 Minds that are pleas'd with present lot, the future 
 View not with anxious care, and with light laughter 
 Temper life's bitters, knowing well that naught is 
 Ev'ry way happy. 
 
 Swiftness of death snatch'd off the brave Achilles, 
 Length of old age diminish'd e'en Tithonus, 
 And perhaps Time to me may mete the blessings 
 Which it denies thee. 
 
 Round thee a hundred flocks and kine Sicilian 
 Low ; for thee neighs the mare for chariot fitted, 
 While the rich vesture doubly-dyed in Afric 
 Purple arrays thee. 
 
 But to my share a small domain of country 
 Fate has allotted, and a slight infusion 
 Of the Greek muse, and pow'r to scorn the vulgar 
 Basely malij,nant. 
 
 ODE XVIL (To M.ECENAS, ill.) 
 
 Why with complaints dost take the life out of me ? 
 Neither the Gods nor Horace will e'er consent 
 That thou, Maecenas, e'er shouldst die first ; — 
 Thou, my life's ornament, prop, and pillar — 
 
 Ah ! should a stronger Pow'r snatch away from me 
 Thee ! my life's main part, why should the other stay? 
 Half life is neither dear, surviving. 
 
 Nor in itself complete. Yes ! the same day 
 
56 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Shall be the last for both of us. I have sworn, 
 (Trust me) no vain oath ; — we will go, we will go, 
 Whenever you go first, companions 
 Ready to take the last road together ! 
 
 Me nor the breath of fiery Chimsera, nor, 
 Should he again rise, Gyges Avith hundred hands. 
 Should e'er rend from thee, — thus the pow'rful 
 Justice and Fates have been pleas'd to order — 
 
 Whether 'tis Libra's influence sways my birth, 
 Or angry Scorpion, mightiest Potentate 
 Of my nativity, or the Tyrant 
 
 Capricorn, lord of the Western Ocean, 
 
 Each of our Stars in marvellous mood agrees. 
 Thee, the supreme protection of Jupiter 
 From impious Saturn's pow'r mahgnant 
 
 Snatch'd, and retarded the fatal moment ; — 
 
 What time the people, gath'ring in multitudes, 
 Thrice made their shout resound thro' the theatre — 
 Me, the tree-trunk with deadly falling 
 
 Clean had destroy'd, but that Faunus' right hand 
 
 Lighten'd the stroke — Great Faunus, the Guardian 
 Of Men Mercurial — Render thou victims due. 
 And votive temple, in remembrance, 
 
 Mine be the lowly lamb's humbler off'ring ! 
 
IN ENGLISH. 57 
 
 ODE XVIII. (On an Avaricious Man.) 
 
 Neither ivory have I, 
 Nor golden cornice glitters in my ceiling, 
 
 Nor do beams Hymettian 
 Rest upon columns cut from furthest Afric — 
 
 Nor have I, as heir unknown, 
 Seiz'd boldly upon Attalus's palace — 
 
 Nor do dames of high degree 
 Spin out for me the grand Laconian purple, 
 
 But fidelity is mine, 
 And a fair share of Genius, while the rich man 
 
 Seeks me, tho' poor. Nothing more 
 Pray I the Gods for, nor from friend, tho' pow'rful, 
 
 Greater blessings do I seek, 
 Happy enough in my dear Sabine farm-stead — 
 
 Day by day is press'd along, 
 And the new moons but hasten to their waning ; — ■ 
 
 Thou the marbles to be carv'd 
 Arrangest, with thy death in view, and, mindless 
 
 Of thy tomb, art building still. 
 And strivest to enlarge thy land at Bai^e 
 
 By encroaching on the shore — 
 Not rich enough with continental limits. 
 
 Why dost thou thy neighbour's land 
 Despoil, by ever moving back his landmarks ? 
 
 And art leaping greedily 
 Over thy tenant's bounds ? While wife and husband, 
 
 Carrying their household-gods 
 And squalid children, thou from home expellest. 
 
 Yet no surer home, at last, 
 Thou the predestin'd end of greedy Orcus 
 
;8 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Waits the man of opulence. 
 What further are you looking for? An equal 
 
 Sod of earth is open to 
 The poor man. and the children of the monarch, 
 
 Nor did Orcus' Satellite 
 Through bribe of gold, send back the great Prometheus. 
 
 He the haughty Tantalus 
 And all his offspring under guard restraineth, 
 
 He relieves the poor from toil, 
 Whether invok'd or not to ease his burden. 
 
 ODE XIX. (To Bacchus.) 
 
 Bacchus in distant mountains I once beheld. 
 Teaching his songs — Believe me, Posterity, 
 While the Nymphs and goat-footed Satyrs 
 Listen'd around in a rapt attention. 
 
 Evoe ! with sudden thrill my mind a.gitates, 
 And with tumultuous joy, Bacchus-fill'd, my breast 
 Is rev'lling, Evoe ! Spare me, Liber, 
 Spare me, thou Lord of the Ivy-thyrsus ! 
 
 Now, now ! 'tis mine to sing the gay Thyades, "^ 
 
 And the wine-fountain, and rivers rich with milk ; — ' 
 And how from hollow trunks of forests 
 Streams yet again and agam the honey- 
 Now, too, I sing thy blessed wife's happy star 
 Added to Heaven, and dwellings of Pentheus 
 With no light ruin overwhelmed, 
 
 And how the Thracian Lycurgus perish'd. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 59 
 
 Thou turnest rivers, thou the barbaric sea, 
 Thou, moist with wine, in hills' remote fastnesses, 
 Joinest in viper's knot thy Biston's 
 Tresses all harmlessly tied together. 
 
 Thou, when thy Parent's kingdoms the Giant-brood 
 Strove to o'erturn, ascending the starry-heights, 
 Didst hurl back Rhsesus, in a lion's 
 
 Form, with his claws and terrific jawbone. 
 
 For though thou once wast said to be fitter far 
 For dance and sport, and not for the battle cry. 
 Still hast thou shewn thyself an equal 
 
 Pow'r, in the midst both of Peace and Warfare. 
 
 Thee, with thy golden horn shining radiant, 
 Cerb'rus beheld, and harmlessly w^agg'd his tail. 
 And when thou didst return, with triple 
 
 Tongue lick'd thy feet, as thy limbs he fondl'd. 
 
 ODE XX. (On Himself.) 
 
 Not Avith a slight or usual wing shall I, 
 Poet two-formed, thro' the light air be borne, 
 Nor on the earth shall I continue 
 Longer. Superior far to envy 
 
 I'll leave the cities — Though from poor parents sprung. 
 I, who am honour'd with friendships such as thine, 
 Belov'd Maecenas, ne'er shall perish, 
 Nor will the Stygian wave detain me. 
 
6o THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Now, even now, a skin slowly roughening 
 O'er my limbs settles ; — Now am I being chang'd 
 Into a white bird, downy plumage 
 
 Settles all over my arms and shoulders. 
 
 Now, swifter than D^dalean Icarus, 
 I shall the shores of Bosphorus wild behold. 
 And the Gstulian Syrtes visit, 
 And Hyperborean plains so icy. 
 
 j\Ie Colchians ^, and the Dacian, who his fear 
 Of Marsian cohorts dissimulates, shall know, 
 Gelonians distant, and the skilful 
 
 Spaniard, and drinker of Rhone's deep waters. 
 
 Let no funereal dirge be heard o'er my grave. 
 No sad laments, no funeral obsequies, 
 Restrain the wailings of the tomb, and 
 Spare me its idle, superfluous honours. 
 
 * Pronounce as a dissyllable. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 ODE I. (Ox\ A Happy Life.) 
 
 I HATE the vulgar crowd, and would bid them hence, 
 Keep ye still silence — Songs never heard before, 
 I, priest appointed of the Muses, 
 
 Both to the virgins and youths am singing. 
 
 Kings have a dread dominion o'er subject realms. 
 O'er Kings themselves great Jove has supreme controul, 
 Renown'd for triumph o'er the Giants, 
 
 Moving all Nature with nod tremendous — 
 
 One man may rear more plants in a wider space 
 Than does another ; one may his noble race 
 Boast, as competitor for honours. 
 
 This vies in morals, and that in fair fame. 
 
 That other has of clients a longer train ; — 
 But all with equal law stern Necessity 
 Allots their place — the high, the lowest, 
 Ev'ry man's name in that urn is shaken. 
 
 He over whose head hangs the drawn sword of Fate, 
 Impious ; for him no feasts of Sicilia 
 Will e'er elaborate a savour 
 
 Sweet, nor will strains of the lyre or songsters 
 
62 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Bring back his slumbers. Sleep, gentle visitant 
 Of the poor rustic, lowly tho' be his cot, 
 Disdains it not, nor shady brook-bank, 
 Nor the sweet Zephyr-enshrouded Tempe. 
 
 He who desires but just a sufficiency. 
 Heeds not the sea's tempestuous bellowing, 
 , -'' Nor fears the force of mad Arcturus 
 
 Downfalling, or of the rising Goat-star. 
 
 Nor when his vines are struck with the hailstone's blow, 
 And his crops fail him, while his trees feel the want 
 Of water, suff'ring from the blazing 
 
 Heat of the stars, or the wintry weather. 
 
 Now, 'neath the pil'd up columns of masonry. 
 Even the space for fish is encroach'd upon, 
 Hither contractors come with workmen, 
 And their disdainfully watching master. 
 
 But Fear and Threats are climbing up equally 
 With the proud lord ; and gloomy anxiety 
 Will sail with him in brazen trireme. 
 
 And, when on horseback, mount up behind him. 
 
 If then my grief nor Phrygian mystic gem, 
 Nor purple garment brighter than stars in sheen, 
 Can e'er alleviate, nor Falernian 
 
 Vineyard, nor sweet Achaemenian essence — 
 
 Why should I build a palace in modern style. 
 With columns such that all men might envy me ? 
 Why change for my lov'd Sabine valley 
 
 Wealth which will bring but increase of labour ? 
 
IN ENGLISH. 63 
 
 ODE 11. (To THE Romans.) 
 
 Friends, let the Roman youth, strong in warfare, learn 
 How to endure the straitness of poverty, 
 And, in the dreaded spear's encounter, 
 Vex the fierce Parthian in the battle — 
 
 And let him lead a life in the open air, 
 And in the whirl of warfare. So, seeing him, 
 The mother of the warring tyrant, 
 
 And her young daughter, now fit for marriage, 
 
 Shall sigh ; — Alas ! O let not my royal spouse, 
 Unvers'd in war, provoke this untameable 
 And cruel lion, whom his anger 
 
 Hurries along thro' the midst of slaughter — 
 
 'Tis sweet and noble — Death for one's country's sake — 
 Death overtakes the cowardly fugitive. 
 Nor spares his flying limbs, and timid 
 
 Back, as he runs from the foe dishonour'd. 
 
 Virtue, that knows not how to be overthrown, 
 Shines with unsullied honours impregnable. 
 Nor at the lawless people's bidding 
 
 Does she take up or lay down her honours. 
 
 Virtue, to those unworthy to die, the way 
 Opens to heav'n, denied to the vulgar throng, 
 And scorns the people's mean assemblies. 
 Spurning the earth with a flying pinion. 
 
64 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 There is for faithful silence a sure reward ; 
 Nor shall the man who publishes Ceres' rites 
 Abide beneath my humble dwelling, 
 
 Or share the same fragile vessel with me — 
 
 Oft, when unworshipp'd, mighty Diespiter 
 Joins to the bad the good. Tho' her foot be lame. 
 Rarely has justice fail'd to punish 
 
 Wickedness, sculking awhile before her. 
 
 ODE III. (On Justice.) 
 
 Him who is just, and stands to his purpose true. 
 Not the unruly ardour of citizens 
 Shall shake from his firm resolution, 
 Nor visage of the oppressing tyrant — 
 
 Nor Auster, turbid leader of Adria, 
 Nor e'en the hand of thundering Jupiter, 
 Should all creation fall to atoms, 
 
 Fearless e'en then would the ruins strike him. 
 
 On art like this did Pollux and Hercules, 
 Depending, reach the fiery citadels. 
 Midst which Augustus new reclining 
 
 Quaffs with empurpl'd lips heav'nly nectar. 
 
 Thus, Father Bacchus, thee thy own tigers drew. 
 Pulling the yoke with necks all untaught the toil — 
 On Mars's horses thus Quirinus 
 
 From the grim Acheron fled in safety — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 65 
 
 When Juno thus to Gods met in council spoke, 
 — (Pleasing her sentence) — -Ilion, Ilion, 
 A fatal and incestuous umpire, 
 
 And the base charms of a foreign, woman 
 
 Turn'd into dust, (since crafty Laomedon 
 Cheated the Gods of justly-due recompense,) 
 By me and by the chaste Minerva 
 
 Curs'd'with its people and fraudful leader — 
 
 No longer shines the Spartan adulteress' 
 Disgraceful guest ; no longer the perjur'd house 
 Of Priam, by the help of Hector, 
 
 Keeps at a distance my warlike Argives — 
 
 Now settles down the war that our strifes began. 
 And my stern anger 'gainst the detested son 
 Whom Trojan Priestess bore, I forthwith 
 Gladly resign to the God of Battle — 
 
 Him will I suffer into the blest abodes 
 Of Heav'n to enter, and the sweet nectar-juice 
 To quaff, and be enrolled for ever 
 
 Mid the Gods' ranks in their peaceful glory — 
 
 Long as the Ocean 'twixt Rome and Ilium 
 Rages in fury, then let these exiles reign 
 In any part they will, be happy, 
 
 While on the tombs of old Priam and Paris 
 
 The cattle leap, the lioness hides her cubs — 
 This done — the glitt'ring Capitol then may stand. 
 And conq'ring Rome in hour of triumph 
 Issue her laws to the subject Medians — 
 
 F 
 
66 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Let her dread name to all the remotest lands 
 Extend, to countries e'en where the middle sea 
 Divides from Europe distant Afric, 
 
 Where the Nile's swelling makes Egypt fertile. 
 
 Let her be braver through the contempt of gold ! 
 Gold undiscover'd, better conceal'd in earth 
 Than when compell'd to human uses 
 By the profaners of all that's holy. 
 
 May she, whatever limit of land oppose, 
 Reach it with armies, joying to see alike 
 
 The countries warm'd with torrid sun-beams, 
 Or wet with rainy dew ever falling. 
 
 But to my warlike Romans these fates I give 
 On this condition — that no false piety, 
 Or vain affection for ancestral 
 
 Troy, ever lead them again to build it. 
 
 For, should ill-omen'd Troy from its ashes rise, 
 Then will its slaughter be but again renew'd, 
 While I lead on the troops victorious, 
 I, who am Jupiter's wife and sister. 
 
 Ay ! if its brazen wall should rise thrice again, 
 By Phoebus' auspice, thrice should it be o'erthrown, 
 Raz'd by my Argives, thrice the captive 
 
 Wife should lament both her spouse and children- 
 
 But such high subjects suit not the festive lyre — 
 Muse, whither go'st thou ? Cease in thy waywardness 
 The councils of the Gods to weaken 
 By the report of a feeble mortal ! 
 
IN ENGLISH. 67 
 
 ODE IV. (To Calliope.) 
 
 Descend from Heaven, Calliope, my Queen, 
 And on thy pipe make lengthening melody, 
 Whether with clear voice had'st thou rather, 
 Or with the strings or the lyre of Phoebus — 
 
 Hear ye ? or does a lovely insanity 
 Delude me? For methinks I can hear sweet sounds, 
 And wander through the holy forests 
 
 Sweetly environ'd with breeze and streamlet. 
 
 Me, when a boy, in Vultur Apulian, 
 Wand'ring beyond the bounds of Apulia, 
 Wearied with play, and eke with slumber, 
 Woodpigeons cover'd with leafy garments ; — 
 
 Which was a wondrous tale for inhabitants 
 All, who the lofty nest Acherontian 
 Or Bantine woods, or low Ferentum 
 Cultivate, fruitful and rich in produce — 
 
 How I could sleep from bears and from vipers free, 
 How with the sacred laurel enveloped 
 I lay, and myrtle gather'd round me, 
 Surely a heav'nly-protected infant ! 
 
 Yours', O ye Muses ! I to the Sabine heights 
 Am borne ; in your blest service, all one to me 
 Are cold Praeneste, sloping Tibur, 
 
 Or the sweet pleasures of wat'ry Baise — 
 
6S THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 While to your founts and dances a votary, 
 Not sad Philippi's ruinous overthrow, 
 Nor cursed faUing tree destroy'd me, 
 Nor PaHnurus in wave Sicilian. 
 
 AVhile your sweet presence cheers me, I'll willingly 
 Tempt, as a sailor, Bosphorus' madd'ning tides, 
 Or travel thro' the barren deserts 
 E'en of Assyria's scorching climate. 
 
 Inhospitable Britons I too will see. 
 And the Concanians, drunk with their horses' blood. 
 The fierce Gelonians girt with quiver, 
 And, all unharm'd, the far Scythian river. 
 
 Ye, lofty Ccesar, when, from his warfare free. 
 He hath his troops safe quarter'd in friendly towns. 
 And seeks an end of martial labours, 
 Sweetly refresh in Pierian grotto. 
 
 Ye kind advice both give, and, when well receiv'd, 
 Kindly rejoice. We know how the God supreme 
 With falling thunderbolt the Titans 
 
 And their enormous battalions vanquish'd, — 
 
 He who the sluggish earth, and the windy sea. 
 And towns of men, and Erebus' dark abodes, 
 And Gods, and throngs of mortal creatures, 
 Doth with an equal dominion govern. 
 
 Once a great terror, even to Jove himself. 
 Brought that strong band of youths with uplifted arm. 
 And brethren who in vain ambition 
 Sought to pile Pelion on Olympus — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 69 
 
 But what avail'd Typhoeus, and strong Mimas, 
 Or what Porphyrion, threat'ning Avith stature vast, 
 Or Rhoecus, or, with trees uprooted, 
 Enceladus, the terrific hurler — 
 
 What ? when they rush'd against great Minerva's shield, 
 Here, too, they met fierce Vulcan, and motherly 
 Juno, with him from off whose shoulders 
 Never again will the bow be lifted. 
 
 Who washes in pure dew of Castalia 
 His flowing-locks — who th' oak-groves of Lycia 
 Possesses, and his natal forest — 
 Delian and Patarean Phoebus- 
 Strength void of counsel ! By its own w^eight it falls, 
 Strength well-directed, even the Gods increase 
 To greater force, and hate mere brute-power 
 Planning in mind ev'ry form of evil. 
 
 Witness to this, is Gyges with hundred hands, 
 Shewing the truth, well known to posterity, 
 And he who, tempting chaste Diana, 
 Fell by the Goddess's virgin arrow — 
 
 Earth itself groans, pil'd high on her monster-brood, 
 And wails her offspring sent by the thunderbolt 
 To lurid Orcus, nor has yEtna 
 
 Yet been pierc'd through by the fire within her — 
 
 Nor does the bird, the guard o'er his wickedness. 
 Leave Tityos' liver, while the unholy lust 
 Of bold Pirithous is for ever 
 
 Chain'd by the weight of three hundred fetters. 
 
7a THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE V. (On Augustus.) 
 
 High in the Heav'ns reigns thundering Jupiter; — 
 This we believe — Augustus a present God 
 Shall be esteem'd, while distant Britons 
 Bow to his empire, and savage Persians. 
 
 Hath then a man of Crassus's soldiery- 
 Li v'd in disgraceful marriage with barb'rous spouse, 
 And (Oh ! for Senate's shame to see it !) 
 Grown to old age in a foreign service 
 
 Under a Mede-king ? jMarsian, Apulian, 
 Heedless of sacred shields, name, and Roman dress. 
 And of eternal Vesta's glories ; — 
 
 This, while Jove lives, and old Rome is standing !- 
 
 This in his prudence Regulus had wath mind 
 Prescient foreseen, and spurn'd the base, scandalous 
 Conditions, and a vile example 
 
 Fraught with dire evil to future ages, 
 
 If captive youth were not left alone to die — 
 " I've seen (he said,) our standards in Punic fanes 
 ^'Hung up, and armour tamely yielded, 
 " While not a blow in defence was given, 
 
 " I've seen our free-born citizens basely bound, 
 "Tied with their arms, like cowards, behind their back, 
 " And gates left insolently open, 
 
 "And fields we lately had ravag'd, cultur'd. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 71 
 
 " What ! shall the soldier, purchas'd with gold, return 
 " Braver ? you do but add to his villainy 
 " Fresh loss, for never will the poison'd 
 " Wool be restor'd to its former colour : 
 
 " Nor can true valour, when it has fallen once, 
 "E'er be replac'd by courses degenerate. 
 " When the deer from the toils deliver'd 
 
 "Turns on the hunters, will he have courage, 
 
 " Who trusts himself to treacherous enemies : 
 " And shall he Carthage rout in another war 
 "Whose coward hands ha'^^e felt the lashes, 
 " Fearing to die, tho' of life unworthy ? 
 
 " He, all unknowing whence to derive his life, 
 " Has mingl'd peace with war, O ! disgraceful sight ! 
 " O Carthage, loftier grown in valour, 
 "Rising in fame o'er Italians ruins ! " 
 
 'Tis said, he turn'd, as one of attainted name, 
 E'en from his wife's and children's sweet blandishments ; 
 And cast his manly glances downward. 
 Sternly determined to act with justice — 
 
 'Till he the wav'ring minds of the Senators 
 Strengthened by counsel none but himself could give, 
 And from amidst his friends lamenting 
 Hastened away, an illustrious exile — 
 
 And, tho' well-knowing what the barbarian 
 Torture before him meant, yet as tranquilly 
 He mov'd aside his friends and neighbours, 
 (Striving in vain his return to hinder j) — 
 
72 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 As if, (his clients' tedious law-affairs 
 Happily settled), he was but going home — - 
 Home, to his lov'd farm at Venafrum, 
 Or Lacedaemonian Tarentum. 
 
 ODE VI. (To THE Romans.) 
 
 All undeserving, Roman, although thou be. 
 Thou must atone for sins of thy ancestors, 
 'Till thou the temples hast repair'd, and 
 
 Shrines blacken'd over with smoke and ashes. 
 
 Thou reignest thro' submission to highest Heav'n, 
 Hence all begins, and hither must all things tend^ 
 The Gods neglected, many evils 
 
 Have to the weeping Hesperia given.i 
 
 Now twice Monseses and Pacorus's band 
 Have our unlucky onsets discomfited, 
 And laugh with pride at having added 
 
 Spoils from old Rome to their little trinkets. 
 
 Ay ! and our city, rent with internal strife, 
 Dacian and v^thiopian almost destroy'd, 
 The one for fleet renown'd, the other 
 Specially fam'd for the flying arrow. 
 
 Fruitful in crime, our age has the marriage-bed 
 Polluted first, our offspring and homes once pure. 
 The plague deriv'd from such a fountain 
 Hath to our land and its race extended. 
 
IN EKGLISH. 73 
 
 Virgins mature now learn the Ionic dance, 
 While each by movements artfully fashi9ned 
 E'en now from days of tender childhood 
 Learns how to long for incestuous passion. 
 
 Then, (with her husband drunken with wine), she seeks 
 Younger adult'ress, nor does she care to whom 
 She stealthily gives joys illicit 
 
 While the apartment is hid in darkness. 
 
 feut, being bidden, tho' her lord knows of it, 
 She rises, whether call'd by the panderer 
 Or master of some Spanish vessel, 
 Heavily paying for these disgraces. 
 
 Not from such parents sprung forth the offspring who 
 Dyed red the ocean with Carthaginian blood, 
 And slew old Pyrrhus, and the mighty 
 Antiochus, and the dreadful Hannibal ; — 
 
 No ! but the sons of rude rustic soldiery, 
 Taught with the Sabine hoe how to turn the soil, 
 And at some stern old mother's bidding 
 Carry the wood for the household fuel — 
 
 What time the sun inverting his rays, cast shade 
 On all the mountains, and from the larb'ring ox 
 Remov'd the yoke, and brought the friendly 
 Period of rest, or of pleasant solace — 
 
 What grows not less thro' force of the wasting Time ? 
 Our fathers' age was worse tlian our grandfathers', 
 We, worse than they, bring forth an offspring 
 Still more advanc'd than ourselves in evil. 
 
74 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE VII. (To AsTERiE.) 
 
 Why, O Asterie, weep for him whom the breeze 
 Shall with first dawn of Spring bring again to thee ? 
 Rich with wares of Bithynia, 
 Youth of constant fidelity ; — 
 
 Gyges ? He by South-winds driven to Oricum, 
 After rising of mad Goat-star, the cold nights through, 
 Sleepless, not without many 
 
 Tears, in thinking of thee, endures. 
 
 But the messenger who comes from the anxious dame, 
 Tells how Chloe so fair tenderly sighs for him, 
 And, relating her love-flame, 
 
 Tempts him, crafty, a thousand ways ; — 
 
 Telling how credulous Proetus, by charges false. 
 His wife, perfidious, urg^d on to expedite 
 Chaste Bellerophon'^s murder. 
 Ah ! too chaste for so sad a fate ! 
 
 Tells how Peleus of old nearly was giv'n to Hell, 
 While he fled from the Magnesian Hippolyte ; — • 
 And, with sinful suggestions, 
 
 Brings false histories to his mind ; 
 
 Vainly ! deafer than e'^en mountains of Icarus, 
 All the vile words he hears, sound in his heart as yet. 
 But, lest neighbour Enipeus 
 
 Please thee more than is right, beware ! 
 
 I 
 
IN ENGLISH. 75 
 
 Though none skilful as he, reining the charger in, 
 Can be seen in the whole reach of the Marsian course, 
 Nor does any so swiftly 
 
 Swim the channel of Ttascan stream — 
 
 Shut, I pray thee, at first nightfall, thy house,, nor gaze 
 In the streets at the sweet sound of the plaintive pipe,. 
 And though often he call thee 
 Stern, be still inaccessible. 
 
 ODE VIII. (To M^CENAS.) 
 
 What I, a bach'lor, do' on March's Kalends — • 
 What mean the flow'rs, and tables full of incense, 
 And the live coal pil'd up in heaps, you wonder, 
 Over the greensward ; — 
 
 Learn'd in discourses both in Greek and Latin, 
 Know, then, I vow'd rich banquets, and a snow-white 
 Goatling to Bacchu-Sy nearly sent to- Hades 
 By the tree falling. 
 
 This day, in each recurring year, so festal. 
 Shall remove cork from off the smoke-dried vessel. 
 Carefully fasten'd down with pitch in days when 
 Tullus was Consul. 
 
 Take, my Maecenas, take a hundred bumpers, 
 For thy friend sav'd from death, and bring forth wakeful 
 Lamps till the day-break," far from hence be ev'ry 
 Clamour and anger ! 
 
76 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Truce to your anxious cares about the City, 
 Routed are Dacian Cotiso's battalions, 
 "While the Medes, once so hostile, are involv'd in 
 Civil dissensions. 
 
 Now our old Spanish enemy Cantabrian, 
 Lately subdu'd, is brought beneath our bondage, 
 Now, too, the Scythians, with the bow unbended, 
 Think of retreating. 
 
 Heedless, for once, of popular commotions, 
 Take, as a private citizen, thy pleasure ; — 
 Seize with delight the present hour's enjoyment. 
 Business to-morrow ! 
 
 ODE IX. (Horace and Lydia.) 
 
 {H'o?-ac£.) While I was as a friend to thee, 
 Nor did any more blest lover entwine his arms 
 
 Round the charms of thy snowy neck, 
 I was happier far e'en than the Persian King. 
 
 {Lydia.) While with none more than Lydia 
 Wert thou charmed, nor was Chloe preferr'd to me, 
 
 Lydia, famous in character, 
 Flourish'd nobler than did Rome's famous Ilia. 
 
 {Hor.) Me now Thracian Chloe rules ; — 
 Skilful she in soft lays, and in the cithara, 
 For whom willingly would I die, 
 Did the Fates but preserve her, my surviving soul. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 77 
 
 {Lyd.) Me with mutual love inflames 
 Calais, son of my friend, Thurian Ornrthns, 
 
 For whom twice would I dare to die, 
 If the Fates would but spare him, my surviving boy — 
 
 {Hor.) What if old love again return, 
 
 And, though once sever'd for, join us in lasting bonds, 
 
 What if Chloe with golden hair 
 Shaken off, readmit Lydia, once refu-s'd ? — 
 
 {Lyd.) Though he fairer than star should shine. 
 Thou be lighter than cork, angrier far than waves 
 
 Of the pitiless Adria, 
 W^ith thee glad would I live, gladly would die with thee. 
 
 ODE X. (To Lyce.) 
 
 If thou drank est of cold Tanais' remotest stream. 
 Spouse of barbarous mate, still, my harsh Lyce, still 
 ]\Iight'st thou shrink to expose me, stretch'd before thy door 
 To the wild blasts of Aquilo; — 
 
 Hear'st the creaking with which tightly the fate and grove 
 Planted close to thy fair dwelling, rebellows to 
 Gusts of wind, while the clear Jupiter's influence 
 Freezes masses of settl'd snow. 
 
 O ! put far from thee pri.le odious to Beauty's Queen, 
 Lest with turn of the wheel, back goes the rope of fate, 
 No Penelope sure, hard to thy suppliants, 
 Wert thou born of thy Tuscan sire. 
 
78 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 O ! though neither gifts, pray'rs, no ! nor the paUid look, 
 Violet-tinctur'd, of thy lovers, can move thee, nor 
 Husband, smit with the charms of a Pierian fair. 
 Thy petitioners spare, I pray. 
 
 Do not, harder than e'en tough beech's hardest heart, 
 And in temper more fierce than Mauritanian 
 Snakes, thus treat me, for I will not for ever bear 
 Drenching rain at thy threshold-door. 
 
 ODE XI. (To Mercury.) 
 
 Mercury ! (for, obedient to thy teaching, 
 Mountains Amphion's minstrelsy attended,) 
 And thou, my lyre, with seven -chorded music 
 Skilfully sounding. 
 
 Formerly, neither vocal nor delightful, 
 Now, both at banquets and in temples pleasing. 
 Teach me such strains as may attract the ears of 
 Obstinate Lyde. 
 
 Who, like a three-month filly in the pastures, 
 Sportively plays, too skittish to be handl'd, 
 Tender, as yet unfit for frisky partner's 
 Wanton embraces. 
 
 Thou both the tigers and attendant forests 
 Deadest, and stayest flow of rapid rivers, 
 And to thee, coaxing him, Hell's dreaded porter, 
 Cerberus, yielded. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 79 
 
 E'en tho' around his dreadful head a hundred 
 Snakes mounted guard, while from his mouth three-tongued 
 Foulness of breath and gore in putrefaction 
 Ever were flowing. 
 
 Yes ! and Ixion, Tityos too, unwilling 
 Smil'd, and their urn a little while stood empty, 
 While with sweet vocal melody thou soothest 
 Danaus' daughters. 
 
 Let Lyde hear the wickedness and noted 
 Pains of the Virgins, and the empty vessel 
 (Empty through water wasting through the bottom,) 
 And the retarded 
 
 Fates, which await faults surely, ev'n in Orcus ; — 
 Impious women (for what crime more awful 
 Could they commit ?) they dar'd to slay their husbands, 
 Slay with the sword-point ! 
 
 One out of many, worthy of the nuptial 
 Torch, she who prov'd herself to her false parent 
 Gloriously lying, and a virgin noted 
 All through the ages ! 
 
 Who to her youthful husband cried, "Awaken, 
 " Lest from a quarter whence you ne'er expected 
 " Sleep, long and fatal, come, my wicked father 
 " Foil, and my sisters ; — 
 
 "Who, as the lionesses tear the heifers, 
 " Tear them in pieces ; but, of gentler nature, 
 " I will not strike thee, nor with bolt or barrier 
 " Will I detain thee. 
 
8o THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 "Me let my father load with savage fetters, 
 '' For tliat I spar'd my miserable husband, 
 "Me by sea let him banish to Numidia's 
 "Furthermost borders ! — 
 
 " Go where thy feet and where the winds may bear thee, 
 " While night and Venus favour. Go with lucky 
 " Omen, and on my sepulchre engrave my 
 "Pitiful story!" 
 
 ODE XII. (To Neobule.) 
 
 'Tis the part of wretched women not to sport with love, 
 
 nor with sweet 
 Wine to wash their ills away;— or lose their spirit, thro' 
 
 the fear of 
 Lashes of an uncle's tongue. The winged boy of Cytherea 
 Thy work-basket and thy tapestry has taken from thee; 
 
 and thy 
 Diligence, O Neobule, in laborious Minerva's 
 Toils, the charms of Liparean Hebrus have remov'd a horse- 
 man 
 In equestrian skill excelling e'en Bellerophon the noted. 
 Soon as he his shining shoulders hath in Tiber's waters 
 
 bathed 
 Then unconquerable both in pugilistic skill and running. 
 Clever too in hurling darts at stags in agitation flying, 
 And as quick in capturing the boar in wooded forest hidden. 
 
 ODE XIII. (To THE Fount of Bandusia.) 
 
 O Bandusia's fount, clearer by far than glass, 
 Worthy thou of sweet wine, not without fragrant flow'rs, 
 Thine to-morrow the kid dies, 
 
 Whose face, swelling with budding horns, 
 
IN ENGLISH. 8l 
 
 Grown but newly, proclaims love-sport and wantonness, — 
 Ail in vain ! for his blood soon, with its crimson stain, 
 (Offspring he of a wanton flock,) 
 Shall thy stfeamlets incarnadine. 
 
 Thee the season of fierce scorching Canicula 
 Strikes not, — Thou bringest forth cool and refreshing 
 streams 
 To the yoke-wearied oxen, 
 
 And the wandering herds of kine. 
 
 'Mid the fountains of fame thou too shalt have thy place, 
 While in verse I proclaim thine the dark ilex-shade 
 Overshad'wing the boulders 
 
 Whence thy waters leap babbling down. 
 
 ODE XIV. (The Praises of Augustus.) 
 
 C^SAR, who late, like Hercules, ye people,- 
 Sought the death-purchas'd laurel as reported. 
 Now from Hispania's borders is returning, 
 Conqueror, homeward. 
 
 Now let the wife, who loves her husband only. 
 Come forth with offerings to the Gods propitious. 
 And the great Gen'ral's sister, and, bedeck'd with 
 Suppliant garland, 
 
 Mothers of virgins, and of youths but lately 
 Sav'd from death. Ye, O youths and lately-married 
 Damsels, I pray you, let your tongue refrain from 
 Words of ill omen ! 
 
 G 
 
82 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 This day, to me above all others festal, 
 Blackness of care shall banish from my bosom. 
 Tumult and death I'll never fear, while Ca?sar 
 Holds the dominion. 
 
 Haste, my boy, haste, and bring me flow'rs and ointment. 
 And the cask dating from the Marcian battle, 
 (If that old vagrant Spartacus has left one 
 Down in the cellar,) 
 
 Bid, too, the clear-voic'd songstress, fair Nesera, 
 Hasten to bind her hair in myrrhy topknot. 
 But if the surly janitor delays you. 
 Turn from the doorstep. 
 
 Whitening locks alleviate the passions 
 Once so much giv'n to strife and wanton wrangling, 
 I'd not have borne it, warm with youth, in days when 
 Plancus was Consul. 
 
 ODE XV. (To Chloris.) 
 
 Wife of poor wretched Ibycus ■ 
 
 Cease, O cease now at length foll'wing thy wickedness, 
 
 And thy labours of infamy ; — 
 And, (all ripe as thou art now for thy grave,) to sport 
 
 In the midst of the Virgin-train, 
 And to cast a dark cloud over the glitt'ring stars, 
 
 What suits Pholoe well enough 
 Suits not thee, Chloris, too ; fitter thy daughter far 
 
 Storms the doors of the young fellows 
 E'en as Thyad when stirr'd by the loud timbrels' clash. 
 
IN ENGLISH, S^ 
 
 Her the passion for Nothiis burns, 
 Making her, like a goat, caper lasciviously — 
 
 Thee the Wool of Luceria, 
 Not the strains of the lute, fitted for youth, become, 
 
 Nor the rose in its damask bloom. 
 Nor the cask drain'd to dregs> now that thou art so old. 
 
 ODE XVI. (To M.^CENAS.) 
 
 Danae, firmly shut up, that mighty tow'r of brass, 
 
 And those strong oaken doors, and the grim watchdog's 
 
 bark, 
 Baying all the night long mournfully, might have kept 
 From nocturnal adulterers. 
 
 Had not omnipotent Jupiter and Venus, 
 Laugh'd at-Acrisius, timorous guardian 
 Of the Virgin conceal'd, when the God, turn'd to gold, 
 Found a ready access to her. 
 
 Gold, so mighty in pow'r, through the dense satellites 
 And through e'en the hard rocks' fastnesses, loves to break. 
 Mightier far than the pow'r of the dread thunderbolt ; — 
 This destroy'd the Greek augur's house ; — 
 
 Smitten down to its fall, all through the lust of gain ; — 
 Gates of cities were cleft by Macedonia's 
 Hero, bribing their kings, rivals ; yea, gifts of gold 
 Rough sea-captains entraps in snares. 
 
 Wealth, the faster it grows, is but the prey of care, 
 And of lusting for more ; — Rightly have Labhorr'd 
 Far o'er others to raise my over-weening head, 
 O Maecenas, thou flow'r of Knights ! 
 
84 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Ju^-.t as each has himself more and yet more denied, 
 Will the Gods give him more ; — All in my emptiness 
 I the camp will attend of the un-covetous, 
 A deserter of homes of wealth ; — 
 
 Of my humble estate lord more magnificent 
 Than if all that the strong active Apulian ploughs 
 I Avere said to have stor'd up -in my threshing floors, 
 Poor, 'mid stores of abounding wealth. 
 
 Streamlet flowing with pure water, and just a few 
 Woodland acres, with crops ne'er disappointing me, 
 Make me happier far een than the Potentate, 
 Lord of glittering Africa. 
 
 Though nor honey have I, stor'd by Calabrian bees, 
 Nor does wine in the old Lcestrygon amphora 
 IMellow for me, nor rich Gallican pasturage 
 Feeds my fleeces in luxury ; — 
 
 Still, Pm free from the sad pinches of poverty, 
 Nor, if more I requir'd, woidd you deny it me, 
 Thus, by keeping in bounds all my desire for more, 
 I can easier pay my tax 
 
 Than if I were to join all Alyattes' wealth 
 P'o the Mygdonian lands — They who seek for much 
 Lose much ; — Well for the man who a sufficiency 
 Has from Heav'n with a frugal hand ! 
 
 ODE XVIL (To ^Lius Lam[A.) 
 
 ^Lius, descended nobly from old Lama, 
 (Since 'tis from him they say that the Lamise 
 Were first so call'd, and their descendants 
 Thro' the long course of recording annals—) 
 
IN ENGLISH. 85 
 
 Thou from that founder tracest thy origin, 
 Who was the first the walls of old Formise 
 To hold, and Liris' stream, that glideth 
 Into the shores of the fair Marica— 
 
 Lord of broad realms — To-morrow an eastern gale 
 Shall with thick leaves and profitless weed bestrew 
 The grave, unless the many-winter'd 
 Crow, the infallible wat'ry augur. 
 
 Deceive me — Heap on, heap, while you can, my friend, 
 All the dry logs — To-morrow thy genius 
 
 Thou'lt soothe with wine and two-month porker. 
 With thy attendants releas'd from labour. 
 
 ODE XVII). (To Faunus.) 
 Faunus, of Nymphs coy runaways the lover, 
 Through my sweet fields and all the sunny country 
 May'st thou pass gently, nor in thy departure 
 Injure my kidlings. 
 
 If to thee falls the tender kid a victim, 
 When the year ends, and wine in rich abundance 
 Fails not the goblet, Venus's companion, 
 While the old altar 
 
 Smokes with much incense. In the grassy pasture 
 All the herd sports, at nones of each December, 
 And in the meadows with the oxen plays the 
 Festival hamlet. 
 
 'Mid the bold lambs the wolf all harmless wanders, 
 And the wood sheds for thee its leafy honours, 
 Thrice the detested ground the delver's footstep 
 Joyously tramples. 
 
86 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XIX. 
 
 How far distant from Inachus 
 Codrus liv'd, who would die for his dear country's sake, 
 
 You tell — the race of yEacus, 
 And the battles beneath Ilium's holy tow'rs. 
 
 But at what price the Chian wine 
 We may buy — who will warm water with fire for us, 
 
 And by whose hospitality 
 We Pelignian cold safely may shun — no news ! 
 
 Give the new Moon a bum per- glass, 
 Give to Midnight's hour one, and give the Augur one, — 
 
 Our Mursena ; with three or nine 
 Glasses commodious be our chas'd goblets fiU'd ! 
 
 He who loves the odd-number'd Muse, 
 Three times three let that bard pledge in his ecstasy. 
 
 But not more than three cups the Grace, 
 Fearing lest she stir up quarrels, permits to us, 
 
 — She, join'd with her nude sister-band. — 
 'Tis my joy to be mad ! Why cease the clarion-blasts 
 
 Of the horn Berecynthian ? 
 Why hangs mutely the pipe ? What ails the silent lyre? 
 
 I detest parsimonious hands. 
 Scatter roses around ; — Let Lycus envious 
 
 Hear the maddening, ranting noise. 
 And our neighbour so fair, too yomf^ for old Lycus, 
 
 Thee, so spruce with thy bushy locks, 
 Thee, like beams of the pure Vesper, sweet Telephus, 
 
 Chloe seeks, with her ripe young charms, 
 Me, my Glycera fair slowly with iove consumes. 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
IN ENGLISH. 87 
 
 ODE XX. (To Pyrrhus.) 
 
 Seest thou not, O Pyrrhus, at what hazard 
 Thou the Gaetuhan honess's offspring 
 Rousest, whom soon thou'lt tlee (the battle o'er) a 
 Timorous robber. 
 
 When through the thronging crowds of youths opposing 
 Quickly she flies, in search of young Nearchus, 
 Great is the contest, whether larger prey be 
 Thine or her portion. 
 
 While in the meantime thou thy flying arrows 
 Shootest, she whets her dreadful teeth for battle, 
 And the strife's umpire puts beneath his feet the 
 Prize of the contest. 
 
 Then with the gentle breezes he refreshes 
 His comely shoulders deck'd with hair anointed, 
 Such as was Nireus, or the youth entrapp'd from 
 AV^atery Ida. 
 
 ODE XXI. (To HIS Cask.) 
 
 O BORN w^ith me in Manlius' consulship. 
 Whether thou bringest murmurs or levity, 
 Or strife, or love in all its madness. 
 Or, pious cask, a refreshing slumber — 
 
 Under whatever name the choice Massic juice 
 Thou keepest, fit for drawing on some glad day, 
 Descend, at bidding of Corvinus, 
 
 Draw forth thy wine with its mellow flavour. 
 
88 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 For he, tho' vers'd in all the Socratic lore, 
 Will not neglect thee, stern in sobriety, 
 And e'en old Cato's rigid virtue 
 Often ('tis said) was with wine attemper'd. 
 
 Thou instigation gentle to intellects 
 Dull for the most part addest, and secret plans 
 And counsels of the wise revealest 
 Under Lyseus's mirthful influence. 
 
 Thou cheerest anxious minds by infusing hope, 
 And addest horns of strength to the poor man's heart, 
 Who dreads not, after thee, the angry 
 
 Crests of proud monarchs, or arms of soldiers. 
 
 Thee Bacchus, and bright Venus, if so she will, 
 And all the Graces, loth to dissolve the knot, 
 And living lamps, in feasts shall lengthen, 
 Till the stars die in returning sunshine. 
 
 1 
 
 ODE XXII. (To Diana.) 
 
 Guardian of mountains and of groves, Thou Virgin, 
 Who thy poor vot'ries in the pains of labour 
 Thrice invoked, hearest, and from death deliv'rest. 
 Goddess three-formed ! 
 
 Thine be the pine o'ershadowing my villa, 
 Which, when each year is happily completed, 
 I with the blood of sidelong-wounding boar-pig 
 Gladly shall sprinkle. 
 
 i 
 
IN ENGLISH. 89 
 
 ODE XXIII. (To Phidyle.) 
 
 If to the Heav'n thou raise thy uplifted hands 
 At the new Moon, my pastoral Phidyle, 
 If thou with barley-meal and incense 
 
 Lares appease, and the greedy porker ; — 
 
 Nor shall thy fruitful vine the sirocco-blast 
 Feel, nor thy cornfield suffer the with 'ring blight, 
 Nor shall thy tender younglings shrivel 
 'Neath sickly blasts at the Autumn season. 
 
 For the doom'd victim feeding in Algidus 
 Snow-clad, among the oaks and the ilex-trees. 
 Or growing in Albanian pastures, 
 
 Shall with its life-blood the Pontiff's axes 
 
 Besprinkle. As for thee, it is not requir'd 
 Thy little household Gods to propitiate 
 With flocks of sacrifice, but crown them 
 Simply with rosemary and with myrtle. 
 
 If but a guileless hand hath the altar touch'd, 
 No costly victim will more acceptably 
 Appease the once-averse Penates, 
 
 Than holy corn, or the crackling salt-cake. 
 
 ODE XXIV. (On Rich Misers.) 
 
 Though with more than Arabian wealth 
 Yet untouch'd, and the rich treasures of India, 
 
 Thou with buildings should'st occupy 
 All the Tyrrhenian coast, and Apulian sea ; — 
 
90 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 If on tops of thy highest piles 
 Dire necessity fix her adamantine hooks, 
 
 Neither shalt thou thy mind from fear, 
 Nor from meshes of death shalt thou release thy head. 
 
 Better do the wild Scythians 
 (Whose wains draw, by their fix'd custom, their wand'ring 
 homes,) 
 
 Live, and all the rude Getan tribes, 
 Whose unmeasur'd domains, lying around them, yield 
 
 Fruit and corn free to all the race ; — 
 Nor for more than a ye-^.r cultivate they the soil. 
 
 And, when one is from labour freed. 
 His successor, by lot, fills up his vacant place. 
 
 There the innocent stepmother 
 Rears with tenderest care children left motherless ; 
 
 Nor doth wafe, rich in dowry's wealth, 
 Rule her husband, nor yet trust the sleek paramour. 
 
 Their great dowry, their parents' fame 
 And their chastity true, fearful of other men. 
 
 This to them is a certain bond ;• — 
 Sin is impious, and sin's sure reward is death. 
 
 O ! would any one take away 
 Our impiety's dire slaughter, and civil war. 
 
 Would he " Father of Cities " be 
 On our statues engrav'd, then let him dare to curb 
 
 Our unbridl'd licentiousness, 
 Fam'd for ages to come, seeing we (O the shame !) 
 
 Hate the virtue before our eyes. 
 But, wiien mov'd from our sight, seek it with envious 
 eyes. 
 
 What avail all our sad con:;plaints 
 If the punishment due fails to remove the fault? 
 
 i 
 
IN ENGLISH. 91 
 
 What can laws without morals do ? 
 Vain ! If neither the climes glowing with fervid heat, 
 
 Shut in by the all-powerful Sun, 
 Nor the side of the world nearest to Boreas, 
 
 And the soil frozen hard with snow, 
 Keep the merchantman back ? Sailors expert and bold 
 
 Conquer ocean's most dreadful depths. 
 ^^'ant, that greatest disgrace, want will compel a man 
 
 Both to do and to suffer aught, 
 And deserted are all arduous Virtue's paths. 
 
 Let us then to the Capitol, 
 Whither shouts of the dense favouring Crowds invite. 
 
 Or in depths of the nearest sea 
 Cast our gems, precious stones, and all our useless gold, 
 
 (Ground of greatest mishap to us,) 
 If indeed we repent well of our wickedness. 
 
 The first seeds of our avarice 
 Must be quite rooted out, and our too tender minds 
 
 Must by studies of rougher sort 
 Be reform'd. Now, in our day, the patrician youth 
 
 Knows not how on his horse to sit. 
 And to hunt is afraid. SkilfuUer he, to play 
 
 Whether with hoop of Grecia, 
 Or with dice, if you please, dice, which the law forbids. 
 
 While his father, with perjur'd faith. 
 Cheats his partner in trade, or his confiding quest, 
 
 And makes haste to heap money up 
 For his reprobate heir. Thus, forsooth, guilty wealth 
 
 Is increasing perpetually. 
 Yet, though hoarded his store, something is wanting still. 
 
92 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE XXV. (To Bacchus.) 
 
 Whither, Bacchus, nrt hurrying me, 
 Full of thee ? To what woods now am I driv'n ? What 
 caves ? 
 
 Quick with feelings new? Yes, in what 
 Caverns shall I be heard, while I am bent to raise 
 
 Our illustrious Caesar's fame 
 Up to heav'n, and the great Jupiter's council-hall ? 
 
 I shall utter strains new, as yet 
 Sung by no other mouth. Thus, in her fastnesses, 
 
 Sits the Bacchanal in a trance, 
 Viewing Hebrus, and eke Thracia clad with snow. 
 
 And, by barbarous footsteps trod, 
 Seeing Rhodope. What joy, in my wanderings, 
 
 To admire uninhabited 
 Rocks and groves ! O thou Lord of Bacchanalian maids, 
 
 And of Naiades, strong to hurl 
 Down from tops of the rocks e'en the tall mountain-ash. 
 
 Nothing small or of low degree, 
 Nothing mortal, I'll speak, Sweet is the risk to me, 
 
 FolFwing thee in my raptur'd song. 
 Thee, Lenj^us^ my God, thee with the vine-leaf bound. 
 
 ODE XXVI. (To Venus.)! 
 
 Lately I liv'd for Venus's warfare fit, 
 And in her service fought not ingloriously, 
 But now my lyre and armour hanging 
 
 On the wall, shew me retir'd from battle; — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 93 
 
 That wall, which guards the shrine of the sea-goddess 
 On the left side. Here lay ye the torches down, 
 And bows and levers once so pow'rful, 
 
 Threat'ning all doors that oppos'd my passage. 
 
 O Thou, the Goddess who the blest Cyprian isle 
 Holdest, and Memphis free from Sithonian snow, 
 Thou Queen, just once, with scourge uplifted, 
 Give a slight touch to my haughty Chloe. 
 
 ODE XXVIL (To Galatea.) 
 
 Impious spirits ! may they be conducted 
 By chatt'ring lapwing, pregnant bitch, or tawny 
 Wolf running down from the Lanuvian forest, 
 Or the full vixen ! 
 
 And may the serpent break upon their journey 
 When, like an arrow darting, she their horses 
 Terrifies, glancin^ right athwart their path. I, 
 Provident augur, 
 
 What shall I fear for thee ? I, ere the storm-bird. 
 Prophet of rain, shall seek again its marshes, 
 Will, by my pray'r, invoke the raven, croaking 
 Far from the Eastward. 
 
 May'st thou be happy wheresoe'er thou journey'st. 
 And of me, Galatea, ever mindful. 
 Nor may the magpie, on the left, prevent thee, 
 Nor the crow raving ! 
 
94 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Yet see Orion low'ring in a tumult, 
 Well do I know dark Adria's stormy billows, 
 Well do I know the dangers to be fear'd from 
 Whit'ning lapyx. 
 
 O let the wives and children of our foemen 
 Feel the blind motions of the rising H^dus, 
 Feel the dark ocean's roar, with all the coast-line 
 Quiv'ring before it. 
 
 Thus did Europa to the bull, confiding. 
 Trust her white form, and when she saw the ocean 
 Yawning with beasts, and all the fraud around her, 
 Pal'd at the vision. 
 
 Busied of late with flow'rs in all the meadows. 
 Weaving a garland to the Nymphs devoted. 
 She in the glimm'ring night saw nought but stars and 
 Billows around her. 
 
 And when she reach'd the hundred-citied island 
 She exclaim'd, " Father ! O ! the now-abandon'd 
 " Name and affection of thy daughter " — angry. 
 Madden 'd with fury. 
 
 "Whence came I? Whither going? For a virgin's 
 " Fault, but one death seems all too light. Awaking 
 "Do I deplore my sad offence ? Or with me 
 " Sports but the image 
 
 "Vain, w^iich, escaping from the iv'ry portal, 
 " Brings on a dream, all free as yet from vices ? 
 "Were the sea voyage better, or the plucking 
 " Flowers freshly-gather'd ? 
 
IN ENGLISH. 95 
 
 " Would one now give me in my rage the bullock, 
 " Him would I strive to tear with sword asunder ; 
 " Yes ! and to break his horns, altho' but lately 
 " Much I had lov'd him. 
 
 " Shamelessly did I leave my own Penates, 
 " Shamelessly postpone Death ; O Thou, whoever 
 " Of the Gods hear'st me— Let me, Let me, naked 
 " Roam among lions ! 
 
 " Ere yet uncomely leanness seizes on my 
 "Cheeks, now so blooming, and the healthy moisture 
 " Flows from their prey, I would in all my beauty 
 " Feed the fierce tigers. 
 
 " Now cries my absent father — ' Vile Europa, 
 " ' Why delay death ? When from this very ash-tree 
 " ' Hanging suspended by your belt, your life is 
 " ' Easily ended. 
 
 " ' Or do the rocks and mountains all death-sharpen 'd 
 " '■ Please you, entrust yourself to the storm's mercy, 
 " ' But that perchance you better love th' ignoble 
 " ' Tasks of a handmaid, 
 
 " ' Maid as you are of royal birth — or place of 
 " ' Concubine to some king ' " — But, while complaining, 
 Venus drew nigh with crafty smile, and Cupid 
 With bow unbended. 
 
 Then when she long enough had laugh'd, she cried out; — 
 " Cease from your anger and your heat of passion, 
 " When the Bull shall to thee his horns deliver 
 "Soon to be broken. 
 
96 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 " Know'st not that thou art wife to Jove unconquer'd? 
 "Cease then thy sobbings, learn to bear with fitness 
 "This thy great Fortune — For a world's divided 
 " Portion shall name thee." 
 
 ODE XXVIII. (To Lyde.) 
 
 What, oh what, shall I rather do 
 On great Neptune's feast-day ? Draw the old Caecuban, 
 
 Sprightly Lyde, from cellar forth, 
 And to wisdom of thine add its inspiring force. 
 
 See you not the mid-day decline ? 
 Yet, as though the swift hours stay'd in their course for us, 
 
 You delay from the bin to draw 
 That cask loit'ring from old Bibulus' consulship. 
 
 Yes ! We, each in our turn, will sing 
 Neptune, and the green hair of the Nereides, 
 
 Thou shalt sing on thy curved lyre 
 Leto, with the swift darts of the fam'd Cynthian queen, 
 
 Crowning her with renown, in song. 
 Who owns Cnidos, and bright-glittering Cyclades, 
 
 And who Paphos with harness'd swans 
 Visits. Night shall be then hymn'd in a fitting lay. 
 
 ODE XXIX. (To M^CENAS.) 
 
 O Thou, of Tuscan monarchs the progeny, 
 For thee the mellow'd wine in a cask untapt, 
 Maecenas, with the flow'r of roses, 
 
 And with fresh oil for thy flowing tresses 
 
IN ENGLISH. 97 
 
 Long since Fve kept. A truce to thy long delay, 
 Be not for ever looking on Tibiir's stream, 
 And .^sula's moist lands, and range of 
 Hills where Telegonus slew his father — 
 
 Quit for awhile fastidious opulence. 
 And lofty buildings mounting so near the clouds, 
 And cease admiring Rome's perpetual 
 
 Din, and her wealth, and her smoke ascending — 
 
 Change to the wealthy frequently brings delight ; — 
 And simple meals beneath a friend's roof, tho' poor, 
 Without the pomp of purple drap'ry. 
 
 Often have smooth'd the brow worn and wrinkl'd. 
 
 Now the renowned sire of x*\ndromeda 
 Shews his conceal'd fire. Now rages Procyon, 
 And madd'ning Lion's constellation, 
 
 While the sun brings back the sultry weather. 
 
 Now seeks the shepherd shade with his weary flock, 
 And the cool streams, and forest with oaken groves 
 Of rough Sylvanus, while the silent 
 Bank of the river scarce feels the breezes — ■ 
 
 Thou, for the Roman welfare solicitous, 
 And for the State's prosperity, fearest still 
 What Seres, and, in Cyrus' empire, 
 
 Bactra prepares, and discordant Tanais. 
 
 God, in his prudence, issues of future time 
 In cloudy darkness far from our sight conceals, 
 And smiles when mortal man is anxious 
 More than is fit. What is now before you 
 
 H 
 
qS the odes of HORACE, 
 
 Settle with justice : all the rest, like the stream, 
 Is borne along ; now in the calm mid-channel 
 Peacefully gliding to the Tuscan 
 
 Sea ; — now in raging and stormy current 
 
 Bearing the wave-worn rocks, and the trees uptorn 
 All in a mass, and cattle, and homes of men, 
 
 With roar, from neighb'ring woods and mountains 
 When the fierce deluge stirs up the rivers — 
 
 He will, his soul possessing, live joyfully, 
 
 AVho, as each day goes by, can say, " I have liv'd ; 
 
 *' To-morrow let th' Almighty Father 
 
 " Either fill up with the darkling storm-cloud, 
 
 " Or the pure sunlight ! That which is past, e'en He 
 "Cannot undo and cause to have never been, 
 " Nor can He by his pow'r demolish 
 
 " Bliss that the past fleeting hour has given." 
 
 Fortune, rejoicing sternly to do her part. 
 And fix'd on playing insolent sport with us. 
 Her honours, all uncertain, changes. 
 Favouring now one and now another, 
 
 While she remains, I praise her, but if she shakes 
 Her flitting wings, I give her back what she gave ; — • 
 Wrapt in my virtue, honest, dow'rless 
 Poverty — this is the boon I ask for. 
 
 'Tis not for me, whenever my vessel's mast 
 Howls with the Southern whirlwind, to have recourse 
 To wretched prayVs, or make a bargain 
 
 Lest my rich wares from far Tyre or Cyprus 
 
i 
 
 IN ENGLISH. 99 
 
 Should to the greedy sea give increase of wealth — 
 In such a case, safe hous'd in my little boat, 
 The fav'ring breeze thro' storms ^gsean 
 
 Shall, with Twin Brethren, protect my passage. 
 
 ODE XXX. (On His Poems.) 
 
 I A Statue have rear'd longer to live than brass, 
 
 And more lofty than height royal of Pyramids ; 
 
 Which nor storm can devour, nor headlong Aquilo 
 
 Overwhelm, or the great series innum'rable 
 
 Of the years as they roll, and the swift flight of time. 
 
 I shall ne'er wholly die. But the best part of me 
 
 Libitina shall 'scape. E'en to posterity 
 
 Shall my fame grow afresh, while to the Capitol 
 
 With the Vestal so mute shall the high-priest ascend. 
 
 I, in countries where roars violent Aufidus, 
 
 And where, scanty in streams, Daunus his country tribes 
 
 Governs, I shall be said, strong, yet of low degree, 
 
 First to Latian strains famous folia's song 
 
 To have tuned. Assume, Muse, the proud glory won, 
 
 Won by merits of thine, and with the Delphic leaf 
 
 Crown my hair at thy will, crown me, Melpomene ! 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 ODE I. (To Venus.) 
 
 Wars long since set at rest, Venus, 
 Art thou rousing again ? Spare me, I pray, I pray ; — 
 
 I am not what I us'd to be 
 Under Cynara's sweet ravishing influence. 
 
 Cease, fierce Mother of Loves so sweet. 
 Cease to bend one whom ten lustrums have harden'd now 
 
 E'en to gentle control like thine. 
 Go where pray'rs of the youths gently invoke thee back. 
 
 More becomingly in the house 
 May'st thou holiday hold of Paulus Maximus — 
 
 Thou, borne thither by purple swans — 
 If thou seek to inflame lover to match with thee. 
 
 He, both noble and elegant, 
 And of tremulous guilt eloquent advocate. 
 
 And a youth of a hundred arts, 
 Will bear marks of thy sweet soldiery far and wide, 
 
 And whenever — more pow'rful he 
 Than the gifts of his rich rival — he laughs at him. 
 
 Then, 'neath beam of the citron-tree. 
 Thou in marble shalt rise near the Albanian lakes. 
 
 There much frankincense thou shalt smell, 
 And delight thyself with gratefully mingl'd sound 
 
 Of lyre and Berecynthian 
 Flute, with strains of the pipe joining in harmony. 
 
I 
 
 THK ODES OF HORACE, IN ENGLISH. lOI 
 
 There the youths shall, twice ev'ry day, — 
 \Mth the tender young girls praising thy Deity, — 
 
 Their feet shining like glitt'ring snow — 
 Thrice in Salian dance gracefully beat the ground. 
 
 Me nor woman delights, nor youth, 
 Nor the credulous hope telling that friends are true, 
 
 Nor the winefeasts' uproarious strife, 
 Nor my temples to bind with the fresh flow'rs anew. 
 
 But oh why, Ligurinus, why 
 Steals the salt flow of tears slowly adown my cheeks? 
 
 Why, no longer so eloquent, 
 Doth my utterance slow falter amidst my words? 
 
 I hold thee in my nightly dreams 
 Now as captive, and now follow^ thy speedy flight 
 
 Through the grass of the Martian 
 Field, thou cruel one, thee through the fast-rolling streams. 
 
 ODE II. (To AxTOXius Julus.) 
 
 JuLUS, whoever strives to rival Pindar 
 Leans on wings w^axen by the Daedalean 
 Art, and is sure to give his name to glassy 
 Waves of the Ocean. 
 
 Like a stream, running down from mountain-summit. 
 Swollen by rain beyond its wonted limits, 
 Pindar, enraptur'd, foams along in numbers 
 Deep and unbounded. 
 
 Sure to be gifted with Apollo's laurel, 
 Whether he rolls new w^ords in Dithyrambic 
 Strains, and is swiftly hurried on in measures 
 Lawless and raging. 
 
102 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Or does he sing of Gods, and Kings, the offspring 
 Of the Gods, through whom, in a well-deserved 
 Death, fell the Centaurs, and the most terrific 
 Flame of Chimsera. 
 
 Or those whom Elis' palm brings home victorious. 
 Deathless in triumph, whether horse or boxer, 
 Does he proclaim in verse above a hundred 
 Statues in glory ! 
 
 Or does he mourn the youth whom Fate has hurried 
 From his sad spouse, and while his strength he praises, 
 Courage and morals, grudges him to Orcus' 
 Gloomy dominion. 
 
 Plentiful gales uplift the swan of Dirce, 
 While, my Anton ius, to the heights of heaven 
 Soars he aloft. But I, resembling lowly 
 Bee of Matinus, 
 
 Culling the honey'd sweets with toil abundant, 
 Round about Tibur's grove and dewy pastures. 
 Fashion with toil and after painful effort 
 Melodies humble. 
 
 Thou, bard indeed, and with a nobler harp-string, 
 Shalt exalt Caesar, when, bedeck'd with laurel. 
 He thro' the Sacred Hill the fierce Sicambrians 
 Leads in his triumph. 
 
 He, than whom nothing greater, nothing better. 
 Have the good Gods, or Fate, to Romans given. 
 Nor will they give, tho' Time again the Golden 
 Age should restore us. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 103 
 
 Thou shalt sing joyful days, and all the city's 
 Public sports held in honour of Augustus' 
 Safe return to his country, and the Forum 
 Free from contentions. 
 
 Then my voice — if that anything worth hearing 
 I can speak — shall be heard, exclaiming, " O day 
 "Beautiful, ever worthy to be prais'd, for 
 " Caesar's returning ! " 
 
 AVhile you move thro' the streets, " lo triumphe," 
 Not once alone we'll sing, " lo triumphe," 
 All the whole city, and the grateful incense 
 Offer to heaven. 
 
 Thou shalt ten bulls as sacrificial victims 
 (jive, and as many kine ; for me the tender 
 Calf is sufficient, newly-wean'd, and growing 
 For my devotions ; — 
 
 "Whose forehead imitates the New Moon's curving: 
 Just three days old, with horns but newly budding, 
 Where his mark shews, of snowy-white appearance, 
 Otherwise tawny. 
 
 ODE III. (To Melpomene.) 
 
 Him whom once thou, Melpomene, 
 Hast at birth with an eye fav'rable look'd upon, 
 
 Him no labour in Isthmian games 
 Shall as boxer exalt ; nor shall the mettlesome 
 
 Horse in Grecian chariot 
 Lead as victor ; nor war, all with the Delian 
 
104 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Leaf as general crown'd, 
 (For that he the proud threats hath brought to nought of 
 kings), 
 
 Shew in state to the Capitol. 
 But the streamlets that flow through Tibur's fruitful soil, 
 
 And the honours of leafy woods, 
 Shall exalt him to fame in the ^^olian verse — 
 
 Me, the ofifspring of famous Rome, 
 (Chief of cities,) doth deign 'midst the delightful choir . 
 
 Of her poets to count as one ; — ■ 
 And by envious tooth now am I less attack'd. 
 
 Mistress thou of the golden shell ! 
 Who, Pierian muse, temp'rest its dulcet sound. 
 
 Thou who even to fishes mute, 
 Can'st, if such be thy Avill, give song of dying swan. 
 
 This is wholly a gift of thine, 
 That I'm shewn by the proud fingers of passers-by 
 
 As the bard of the Roman lyre. 
 Yes ! To breathe and to please, (if please I do,) is thine. 
 
 ODE IV. (On Drusus.) 
 
 E'en as the winged bird of the thunderbolt, 
 (To whom the King of Gods the dominion 
 Hath o'er the wandering birds committed, 
 Jupiter, having to golden Ganymede 
 
 Found him so faithful,) whom youth and strength of old 
 Drove from his nest, as yet all unus'd to toil, 
 And vernal winds, and sky unclouded, 
 
 Taught him, tho' timid, unwonted efforts — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 
 
 :o^ 
 
 Soon on the sheepfolds, strong in hostility, 
 Instinct impetuous sent him all swooping down ; — • 
 Again upon resisting serpents 
 
 Love of the feast and the battle drove him ; — 
 
 Or as the she-goat, bent on the pastures green, 
 Sees to her horror some tawny lion-cub 
 Just weaned from his savage mother, 
 
 (Soon to die thro' his new fangs ferocious,) 
 
 So saw the Rhsetian and Vindelician hordes 
 Drusus beneath the Alps waging war (whose use, 
 From whence deriv'd I ask not, always 
 With Amazonian axe their right hands 
 
 Arms, but we know not ev'rything — ■) but their bands 
 Tho' far and wide victorious, conquer'd now 
 Through the wise counsels of the youthful 
 General over the Roman army 
 
 Felt what a disposition and genius, 
 Nourish'd for battle under good auspices, 
 Could do, and what the wise paternal 
 Mind of Augustus, for youthful Neroes, 
 
 Brave men are always born from the brave and good, 
 Both steers and horses shew in their pedigree 
 The strength of sires, nor do ferocious 
 
 Eagles bring forth timid doves as offspring. 
 
 But learning gives improvement to native force. 
 And cultivation strengthens the intellect : 
 Whenever morals are defective. 
 
 Crimes will disgrace e'en the well-descended. 
 
lo6 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 What to the race of Nero thou owest, Rome, 
 This the Metaurus testifies, Hasdrubal 
 O'ercome ; and that great day, so noble 
 For its dispersing the Latian darkness — 
 
 Which with benignant victory first arose. 
 When through ItaHa's cities the African 
 So dreadful rode, like flame thro' torches, 
 Or the East wind thro' Sicilian waters; — 
 
 Thenceforth the Roman youth with laborious toil 
 Prosper'd and grew ; and temples which formerly 
 The Carthaginian rage had ravag'd. 
 
 Now saw their Gods in their wonted places. 
 
 Out spake at length perfidious Hannibal : 
 " ^Ve, like the weak deer, prey of rapacious wolves, 
 "Are foll'wing those, wdiom to escape from 
 "And to deceive, were our greatest triumph. 
 
 " That nation, which, all strong from the flames of Troy, 
 " Cast on the Tuscan waters : its sacred rites, 
 "And sons, and aged sires, in safety 
 " Hath to Ausonian cities carried. 
 
 "E'en as the ilex, shorn by the axe's edge 
 " On the dark fertile summit of Algidum, 
 " Through losses and destruction thriving, 
 
 " Draws from the steel both its wealth and viirour. 
 
 t)^ 
 
 " Not Hydra widi gash'd body more pow'rfully 
 " Grew, baffling all his efforts, on Hercules, 
 " Nor Echionian Thebes or Colchis 
 
 " Ever produc'd a more awful monster — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 107 
 
 " Drown it in ocean's depths, it comes fairer forth : — 
 " Strive with it, with great praise it will overthrow 
 " The former victor, waging warfare 
 
 '• Long to be vaunted by Roman matrons. 
 
 " Henceforth to Carthage ne'er will I send again 
 " Proud messengers. ' 'Tis fallen, 'tis fallen now, 
 " ' Our name, with all its hope and fortune, 
 '■ ' Fallen, by Hasdrubal's death, for ever. 
 
 " 'Nought is there Claudian hands will not carry through, 
 " ' Whom with benignant influence Jupiter 
 
 " ' Defends ; v/hom wise and prudent counsels 
 " ' Safely conduct thro' the toils of battle.' " 
 
 ODE V. (To Augustus.) 
 
 O Thou, sprung from good Gods, best of the Guardians 
 Of old Romulus' race ; thou art too long away, 
 After promise of thine, made in the Senators' 
 Sacred gathering, O return ! 
 
 Ph-ing back daylight, great chief, now to thy countrymen ! 
 For, like spring's sweet return, when thy glad countenance 
 On thy people hath shone, days pass more pleasantly, 
 And the suns have a warmer glow. 
 
 For, like mother, when o'er raging Carpathian 
 Sea the South wind detains long her beloved son 
 AVith invidious blast, more than a yearly space. 
 From his home with its sweet delights — 
 
Io8 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Both by omens and vows calls she him home, and pray'rs, 
 Nor from curve of the shore turns she her face away. 
 So, all smitten with true yearnings of loyalty. 
 Seeks his country her Caesar back. 
 
 Safely now does the ox roam o'er the pasturage, 
 Ceres smiles, and, with her, kindly Prosperity, 
 Now through depths of the sea sailors glide peacefully. 
 And Fidelity shrinks from blame. 
 
 Each chaste house now is free from the adulterer, 
 Law and custom have stamp'd out the impiety ; — - 
 Mothers have, to their praise, children resembling them, 
 Crime is followed by punishment. 
 
 WIto the Parthian fears ? Who the cold Scythian ? 
 Who, the horde that the fierce Germany rears for war, 
 While our Caesar is safe ? Who is alarm'd by war 
 In the savage Iberia ? 
 
 Each one closes the day safely among his hills. 
 And his plentiful vines trains to the widow'd trees, 
 Then speeds homeward to drink joyfully, praising thee. 
 Thee, as God, at his second course. 
 
 Thee, with prayer he invokes, thee with abundant wine 
 Pour'd from goblet, and joins thy great divinity 
 With his Lares, like Greece, mindful of Castor's fame. 
 And illustrious Hercules. 
 
 May'st thou, chieftain benign, grant a long holiday 
 To Hesperia's land ! This we thy countrymen. 
 Sober, when the day dawns ; — this, in our cups, we pray. 
 When the sun sinks beneath the wave. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 109 
 
 ODE VI. (To Apollo.) 
 
 God, whom the seed of Niobe, and Tityos, 
 Felt as avenger of their pride of language, 
 And he, of lofty Troy well-nigh the Victor, 
 rhthian Achilles. 
 
 Greater than others, yet to thee unequal, 
 Tho' he, the son of Thetis of the Ocean, 
 Shook the Dardanian tow'rs with his tremendous 
 Lance in the battle. 
 
 He, like a pine-tree stricken by the hatchet, 
 Or the tall cypress rooted up by Eurus, 
 Fell headlong down, and plac'd his haughty neck in 
 Teucrian ashes. 
 
 He w^ould not, shut up in the horse of Pallas, 
 Have deceiv'd Trojans keeping their ill-omen'd 
 Holiday, and the hall of aged Priam 
 Joyful with dances, 
 
 But, (sternly cruel, openly, to captives,) 
 Would he have burnt in fiames the speechless infants, 
 Ay ! even those, alas ! as yet unborn, the 
 Embryo offspring. 
 
 'Tvvas but thy voice and that of graceful Venus 
 AVhich for ^Eneas' fortunes from the Father 
 Gain'd the permission for a town by better 
 Augury builded. 
 
no THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Phoebus, thou teacher of the shrill Thalia, 
 Thou who thy tresses bathest in the Xanthus, 
 Be thou the Daunian Muse's mighty guardian, 
 Beardless Agyieus ! 
 
 Phoebus to me the spirit, and the Poem's 
 Art, and a name among the bards hath given, 
 Virgins of rank, and boys from noble parents 
 Nobly descended; — 
 
 Wards of the Delian Goddess, who the lynxes 
 Swift-running, and the stags with bow delayeth. 
 Keep ye the Lesbian measure, while my thumb beats 
 Time to your music. 
 
 Sing of Latona's wondrous boy, and Queen of 
 Night, with her crescent horn, who o'er the harvests 
 Genially watches, and the months in order 
 Swiftly revolving. 
 
 Happily wedded, you shall say, "My Poem, 
 " When the time brought again the festive season, 
 " Grateful to Gods, I sung, but first from Poet 
 " Horace I learnt it." 
 
 ODE VII. (To TORQUATUS.) 
 
 Now the snows have fled, and the grass to the fields is 
 returning 
 
 And to the forests the leaves, 
 Earth undergoes its change, and the rivers, slowly de- 
 creasing. 
 
 Flow in the channels of old. 
 
IN ENGLISH. Ill 
 
 Now the Grace, with tlie Nymphs and the sweet twin-band 
 of her sisters 
 
 Joins, all unclad, in the dance. 
 Not to hope endless life here, the swift flying year will 
 advise you 
 
 And the hour, gliding away ; — 
 Cold is dissolv'd by the Winds, on the borders of Spring 
 treads the Summer, 
 
 Soon to be passing away, 
 When with its apple-store the Autumn appears, and, soon 
 after. 
 
 Winter, so sluggish, returns. 
 Yet the revolving Moons repair the losses of heaven ; 
 
 But we, when once we have gone 
 Where pious ^neas, rich Tullus, and Ancus, have vanish'd, 
 
 Lo ! dust and ashes are we ! 
 Who can tell whether the Gods will add the hours of to- 
 morrow 
 
 On to the sum of to-day ? 
 All will escape your heir's greedy clutches, which with 
 a friendly 
 
 Mind you have spent in your life. 
 For, when once thou hast died, and over thee Minos in 
 judgment 
 
 LHath made his grand last award. 
 Then neither birth shall avail, Torquatus ; nor eloquence 
 bring thee 
 Back, nor thy fear of the Gods. 
 For from infernal gloom Diana can never deliver 
 
 Continent Hippolytus, 
 Nor from Lethaean chains can Theseus bring to the daylight 
 Well-belov'd Pirithous. 
 
TI2 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 ODE VIII. (To Censorinus.) 
 
 Goblets fain would I give kindly, and statue-brass 
 
 Censorinus, my friend, to my companions — 
 
 Tripods too, the rewards due to brave Grecians ; — 
 
 Nor should'st thou, be assur'd, friend, have the worst of 
 
 them, 
 Were I wealthy in all skilful designs of art 
 Which or Parrhasius brought to light, or Scopas, 
 This on statues of stone, that with the painter's art. 
 Skilful now in a man's portraiture, now a God's — 
 But such is not my pow'r, nor do thy means require, 
 Nor the bent of thy mind, luxuries such as these — 
 Thy delight is in verse, and 'tis within my pow'r 
 Verse to give, and assign price to my gift of verse — 
 Not inscriptions on fam'd pillars of marble carv'd 
 Through which life and the breath do after death return 
 To our leaders renown'd, giving them second life. 
 Not the swift flight of Rome's eneni)^, Hannibal, 
 And his threats of contempt hurl'd back upon his head, 
 Not the flam.es raging round Carthage's impious tow'rs, 
 Blazon more to the world Scipio's fame, to whom 
 Conquer'd Africa gave name, on his glad return, 
 Than do strains of the sweet Muse of Calabria. J 
 
 Nor, if writings of bards pass'd thee in silence by, ^ 
 
 Would'st thou reap the reward thy glorious deeds deserve. 
 How would son of the great Mavors and Ilia fare 
 If an envious, mute, sad taciturnity 
 Had oppos'd the renown'd merits of Romulus ! 
 See how a'^acus, snatch'd from Styx' infernal flood. 
 Virtue, favour, and tongue of the most pow'rful bards 
 Doth in Isles of the Blest hallow eternally : 
 
IN EXGLISH. 
 
 113 
 
 Yes ! the praiseworthy man Muses forbid to die, 
 
 INIuses hft up to Heaven ! Thus sturdy Hercules 
 
 Sits at coveted feasts even of mighty Jove, 
 
 Thus the Tyndaridas, twin-stars, from lowest depths 
 
 Save the vessels all toss'd with the mad ocean's waves, 
 
 Thus, (his brows with the green leafage of vine adorn'd.) 
 
 Bacchus doth to our vows prosperous issues bring. 
 
 ODE IX. (To LoLLius.) 
 
 Think not the strains will perish, which I, the bard 
 Born near the sounding waters of Aufidus, 
 With arts unknown to former ages. 
 
 Sing to the strains of the lyre of Latium : — 
 
 Not though Maeonian Homer the highest seats 
 Holds, are the Songs of Pindar unknown to fame, 
 And Cean Muses, and Alcaean, 
 
 Ay ! and Stesichorus' solemn numbers. 
 
 Nor what Anacreon sportively sung of old 
 Hath Time destroy'd; no ! still breathe the strains of love. 
 Still lives the passion once entrusted 
 To the JEolmn maiden's harp-string I — 
 
 Yes ! not alone did Helen of Sparta burn 
 For an adult'rer's tresses so finely-comb'd, 
 Admir'd his gold-embroider'd garments, 
 Royal mien, and retinu'd attendants. 
 
 Nor w^as it Teucer who from Cydonian 
 Bow first sent forth the arrows ; nor Ilium 
 Was only once laid low ; — Idomeneus ^ 
 And mighty Sthenelus fought not solely 
 
 • Pronounce as a trisyllable. 
 I 
 
114 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Battles of noted record — nor Hector first 
 Bore, or the stem Deiphobus, punishment, 
 To save from suffering their virtuous 
 
 Wives, and their children so much beloved. 
 
 Brave m^en before the great Agamemnon's time 
 Liv'd many, but in tearless oblivion 
 And night, unknown^ and unlamented 
 Lie they, for want of a sacred poet — 
 
 Virtue conceal'd, but little is different 
 From buried sloth ; — I will not, my Lollius, 
 Pass by thy fame all unrecorded. 
 In what I write, or thy many labours 
 
 Suffer to lie in envious oblivion. 
 No ! for a mind is thine, both intelligent 
 In all affairs, and in prosperity 
 
 And in adversity calm and prudent. 
 
 Righteous avenger of avaricious fraud. 
 Careful abstainer from all-absorbing wealth, 
 And consul not for one year only, 
 
 But whensoever the good and faithful 
 
 Judge has preferr'd the right to the lucrative, 
 And has rejected sternly the guilty bribes 
 Of wicked men, and through opposing 
 Multitudes shewn a victorious passage. 
 
 Not him who owns great wealth would'st thou rightly call 
 Happy, but rather is he the happy man 
 Who can enjoy the gifts of heaven 
 
 Wisely, nor fears to endure the hardships 
 
I 
 
 IN ENGLISH. 115 
 
 And griping pangs of poverty ; — fears disgrace 
 Far more than death ; — who for his beloved friends 
 And native country gladly suffers 
 
 Death, without fearing the dread encounter. 
 
 ODE X. (To LiGURiNUS.) 
 
 , O STILL cruel to me, and, with the gifts Venus has given, 
 strong, 
 
 When on all thy disdain Time's winter drear, all unex- 
 pected, comes ; 
 
 When the hair which is now flowing adown thy graceful 
 shoulders, falls, 
 
 And thy colour which now, all in its bloom, doth e'en the 
 rose excel, 
 
 Chang'd, ah ! fatally chang'd, has to a rough bristly com- 
 plexion turn'd, 
 
 Thou'lt say, Ah ! (when in glass, O what a change ! thou 
 shalt thyself behold,) 
 
 Why, when glowing with youth, felt I not what, now in 
 my age, I feel, 
 
 Or why do not the cheeks blooming with youth, come back 
 once more to me ? 
 
 ODE XI. (To Phyllis.) 
 
 I HAVE a cask of nine-year-old Albanian, 
 Phyllis, all ready for thee ; for thy chaplets, 
 Parsley is in my garden, and a store of 
 Plentiful ivy ; — 
 
II 6 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Ivy, which decks thy tresses l;rightly shining — 
 All my house laughs with silver bright — my altar. 
 Bound with chaste vervain, covets blood of lambkin 
 Newly besprinkl'd. 
 
 Every one here is busy — hither, thither, 
 Run my brisk boys in company with maidens. 
 While the flames circling round and round, the ceiling 
 Touch with their smoke-cloud. 
 
 But, (that the joys to which you are invited 
 You may know,) you must spend the Ides of April, 
 Day which, the seaborn Venus' month adorning, 
 Cleaves it asunder. 
 
 Day rightly solemn, and almost more holy 
 E'en than my birthday to me, as the season 
 Whence my Maecenas reckons up his flowing 
 Years in their order. 
 
 Telephus, whom you're seeking for, a damsel 
 Rich and lascivious, holds in pleasing fetters, 
 Think no more of him, for above thy station 
 Fortune has plac'd him. 
 
 Phaeton's fate dissuades from hopes ambitious, 
 Pegasus, too, the winged steed, disdaining 
 Upward to bear Bellerophon, his earth-born 
 Rider, will warn thee 
 
 Ever to seek things worthy of thee, shunning 
 Match disproportion 'd, thinking it a crime to 
 Hope beyond proper limits. Come ! thou last and 
 Sweetest of lov'd ones ! 
 
I 
 
 IN ENGLISH. 117 
 
 (For never shall I love another woman,) 
 Learn with me measures which with thy beloved 
 Voice thou may'st render. Song shall surely lessen 
 Gloomy moroseness. 
 
 ODE XII. (To Virgil.) 
 
 Now the comrades of Spring, that rule the ocean's tides, 
 Breezes blowing from Thrace, fill out our swelling sails. 
 Nor are fields crisp with frost, nor do the rivers roar, 
 Swollen over with winter's snow. 
 
 Now the bird builds her nest, wailing her Itys dead, 
 (She, the lasting disgrace of the Cecropian house,) 
 Who with vengeance condign smote to the death of old 
 The barbarian lusts of Kings. 
 
 Now on tenderest grass while the flock's guardians 
 Feed their fat sheep, they sing songs on the tuneful pipe. 
 And the God they delight, whom the flocks please, and 
 dark 
 
 Hills of lovely Arcadia. 
 
 Now the season of heat brings thirst, my Virgil, back, 
 But if you would imbibe vintage Galenian, 
 You, who oft are the guest of youths of high degree, 
 Must bring nard as the purchase-price ; — 
 
 Nard, in e'en a small box, will bring to light the cask 
 Which now lies in the old cellars Sulpician, 
 Strong, new hopes to inspire, potent to wash away 
 All the bitter effects of care. 
 
Il8 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 If to joys such as these you will make haste, then come 
 Quick with hire in your hands, for not without your hire 
 Can I bid thee, my friend, share my festivity. 
 Like a rich man in wealthy home. 
 
 Come ! a truce to delay, and the desire of gain ! 
 And, all mindful, in time, of the dark fun'ral fires. 
 Mingle with your grave plans some little folly's fling, 
 Sweet is folly at fitting times. 
 
 ODE XIII. (To Lyce.) 
 
 Oh ! the Gods, they have heard ! Yes, they have heard 
 
 my vows, 
 Lyce, thou art become old without doubt, and yet 
 Thou would'st seem to be fair, and 
 Sportest and drinkest shamelessly ; — 
 
 And with quavering voice seekest to woo to thee 
 Cupid, loitering now — He in the blooming cheeks 
 Of young Chloe the harpist 
 
 Keeps the watch of his tender love — 
 
 For, impatient, he flies past the old wither'd oaks. 
 And avoids thee, because dusky and blacken'd teeth 
 Stain thee, cover'd with wrinkles ; — 
 Thy hair snowy with marks of age. 
 
 Nor will Coan enrich'd purple robes bring thee back 
 (No ! nor jewels so bright,) past days, which, once for all, 
 In the register'd annals. 
 
 Time, quick-passing, has enter'd down. 
 
 i 
 
IN ENGLISH, I TO 
 
 Where have gone ycur good looks? where your com- 
 plexion sweet ? 
 Where your step ? What is left, ah me ! of her, of her 
 Who was wont to breathe passion — 
 AVho had ravish'd me from myself? — 
 
 Next to Cynara fair once — and of face well-known, 
 And all-pleasing in Love's arts ! But to Cynara 
 Fate allow'd but a few years, 
 Meaning long to preserve in life 
 
 Lyce, long as an old, hoary, decrepit crow. 
 That young fellows might see, all in their fervid youth, 
 Not without much amusement, 
 
 How the torch has to ashes turn'd i 
 
 ODE XIV. (To Augustus.) 
 
 What care of Fathers, what of Quiritians, 
 Shall, with abundant off'rings of grateful love, 
 Thy fame, Augustus, with inscriptions 
 
 Thro' the long course of recording annals 
 
 Eternize ? O thou ! Fn-st of the Potentates 
 AVhere'er the Sun shines o'er the terrestrial globe, 
 AVhose martial prowess Vindehcians 
 
 Lately have learned, tho' till now unconquer'd ; — 
 
 For, led by thee, stern Drusus hath more than once 
 Smitten Genaunian races implacable. 
 And the swift Brenni, and the citadels ^ 
 Built on the terrible Alpine summits. 
 
 ^ Pronounce as a dissyllable. 
 
120 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Then, too, the elder Nero, the Rhgetians, 
 Ciiants in stature, slew in the grievous fight, 
 Under thy auspices successful 
 
 Driving their hosts in dismay before him. 
 
 Like some grave portent seen in the sky, was he 
 By all beholders view'd in the martial field ; — 
 The while his foss who strove for freedom, 
 
 (As the South wind drives the waves before it, 
 
 V/hat time the clouds are riv'n by the Pleiades,) 
 Drave he in conquest's ruinous overthrow, 
 Quick to repel foes, and his foaming 
 
 Charger to drive through the fires of battle. 
 
 So whirls along the bull-formed Aufidus, 
 Flowing by coasts of Daunian Appulus, 
 When, raging in its course, it threatens 
 Havoc to pastures and fields of harvest. 
 
 I'hus far'd the barb'rous arniies, when Claudius 
 Routed their mail-clad hosts in the battle-shock. 
 And, laying low the van and rearguard, 
 
 Strew'd the ground, victor without disaster ; 
 
 While thou didst give him forces, and guardian 
 Counsel, and help of Gods. For, on that great day 
 When suppliant Alexandria's harbour 
 
 And all her gates were laid open to thee — 
 
 Fortune, thro' three long lustres, with victory 
 Crown'd all thy efforts made in the prosp'rous war, 
 And added praise and wish'd-for glory, 
 
 Claim'd as thy due for thy former triumphs. 
 
IN ENGLISH. 12 1 
 
 Thee the Cantabrian, never subdu'd before, 
 And Mede, and Indian ;— thee, nomad Scythians 
 Admire, O thou the present Guardian 
 
 IJoth of Italia, and Rome her mistress ! — 
 
 Thee, Nilus, who the source of her fountains hides, 
 And Ister, and the swift-flowing Tigris, fears ; — 
 Thee, too, the sea, which, full of monsters, 
 Roars on the coasts of remote Britannia ; — • 
 
 Thee the intrepid Gallia ; thee, the land 
 
 Of stern Iberia, listens, thy voice to hear. 
 
 Thee the Sigambrians slaughter-loving 
 
 Worship as lord, with their arms abandon'd°. 
 
 ODE XV. (The Praises of Augustus.) 
 
 Phcebus rebuk'd me when I would fain have sung 
 Battles and conquer'd cities, with feeble lyre, 
 And warn'd me not to tempt the Tyrrhene 
 Sea with my. slight sails. Thy age, O Caesar, 
 
 Hath to our fields brought corn and fertility, 
 And to our Jove's great temple the standards back. 
 Torn off in triumph from the Parthians' 
 
 Pillars of pride ; and, (now free from battles,) 
 
 Hath clos'd the Roman fane to old Janus built, 
 And bridl'd headlong license, which formerly 
 Outstepp'd the bounds of law and order ; — ■ 
 And hath renew'd the old arts and customs 
 
 •^ Or, "Dropping their arms, as their victor worship." 
 
122 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 By which the Latin name and Italian strength 
 Grew of old time, while Rome's great Imperial fame 
 And majesty have reach'd to Sunrise 
 E'en from his setting in Western Ocean. 
 
 While our great Ccesar guards the affairs of State, 
 Nor civil war shall mar our tranquillity, 
 
 Nor force, nor anger sharp'ning sword-blades. 
 And setting cities at wretched variance. 
 
 Not they who drink the deep-rolling Danube's stream 
 Shall dare to break the edicts of Julius, 
 Nor Getce, Seres, faithless Persians, 
 
 Nor they who dwell near the river Tanais. 
 
 And we, on days profane and on holy days, 
 'Twixt the delights of Bacchus the mirth-giver. 
 We, with our offspring and our matrons. 
 First having duly invok'd a blessing. 
 
 Shall, like our Fathers, laud the departed brave, 
 AVhile with our pipes we blend the sweet Lydian song, 
 And Troy and Anchises, and kindly 
 Venus's progeny praise with singing. 
 
 THE SECULAR ODE. 
 
 Phcebus and Dian, pow'rful in the forest, 
 Glory of Heav'n ! O ever to be worshipp'd, 
 Now and hereafter, give us what in holy 
 Season we pray for ; — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 123 
 
 Season when verses Sibylline advise us 
 That chosen virgins, with our modest boyhood, 
 Should the Gods praise, to whom the sev'nhill'd city 
 Ever is pleasing — 
 
 Sun, whose bright car brings daylight and conceals it, 
 Rising each morn the same and yet another, 
 I\lay it be thine nought greater than the Roman 
 City to witness ! 
 
 (joddess, of skill the ripen'd womb to open, 
 Kind llithyia, look upon our mothers, 
 Whether Lucina thou be call'd the rather. 
 Or Genitalis ! 
 
 (jive lengthen'd issue, Goddess, and the Fathers' 
 Laws do thou prosper, for the marriage-union 
 Of the young brides, and the marital statutes 
 Fruitful in offspring ! 
 
 That the hx'd order may restore the pastimes 
 Kept each eleventh year ten times o'er recurring, 
 Thrice by bright daylight, and as oft at pleasing 
 Nightfall repeated. 
 
 Ye too, the Parcae, ever true in singing 
 What has once happen'd, and the stable order 
 Still may preserve, may prosp'rous issues ever 
 Follow each other. 
 
 ]\Iay the Earth, fruitful both in corn and cattle. 
 Crown her kind Ceres with a sheafy chaplet, 
 While healthful streams, and Jove's refreshing breezes 
 Nourish the yearlings ! 
 
124 THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Placid and mild, with dart and quiver hidden, 
 Hear thou thy supplicating youths, Apollo ; — 
 Queen of the stars, thou double-horned Luna, 
 List to thy maidens ! 
 
 If Rome be your delight, and troops from Ilium 
 Have in the old time held the shore Etruscan, 
 (Race bidden both to change their town and Lares, 
 Safe in their travel ; — ) 
 
 Whither, through blaze of Troy, the chaste JEnesiS, 
 Free from the traitor's guilt, a last survivor. 
 Safely took journey, promising his comrades 
 More in the future. 
 
 Give to our youths, ye Gods, a sense of honour, 
 Give to our calm old age a time of quiet, 
 Give to the race of Romulus wealth, offspring. 
 Glory and honour. 
 
 And he who with white oxen venerates you, 
 He, of Anchises and of Venus issue. 
 May he, in fight superior, the fallen 
 Enemy pity ! 
 
 Now, too, our bands, by sea and land triumphant, 
 Medians fear, and our Albanian axes ; — 
 Now do the Scythians feel our power, so lately 
 Haughty, and Indians. 
 
 Now Faith, and Peace, and Modesty, and Honour 
 Fit for old times, and Virtue, once neglected, 
 Dare to return, and Plenty, with her blessed 
 Horn of abundance — 
 
IN ENGLISH. 325 
 
 He, too, the Augur with the bow of brightness, 
 Phoebus, accepted by the nine Camoenae, 
 Who with his healing art reheves the weary 
 Limls of the body ; — 
 
 If Palatinian altars with benignant 
 Eye he surveys, and Rome, and happy Latium, 
 May he prolong our age to other ever 
 Happier lustrums ! 
 
 And she w^ho Aventine and Algid mountain 
 Owns, may Diana hear the supplications 
 Of the Fifteen, and to our youths' devotions 
 Carefully listen. 
 
 Yes ! that great Jove, and all the Gods beside him, 
 Yield to our vows, a hope both good and certain 
 Do we bring home, the chorus skill'd in praising 
 Phoebus and Dian. 
 
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