ALL THE ODES AND EPODES OF HORACE.  
TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE: By HENRY RIDER, Master of Arts of Emanuel College in CAMEBRIDGE.  HOR. lib. 3. Ode 1. 
— Carmina non prius  
Audita, Musarum Sacerdos  
Virginibus puerisque canto.  
LONDON, Printed by john Haviland, for Robert Rider. Anno Dom. 1638.   

Imprimatur,  
Tho. Wykes, R. P. Episc. Lond. Cap. domest. Novemb. 8. 1637.   

TO THE HONOURABLE ROBERT LORD Rich, etc.  
The Author wisheth all happiness here and hereafter.  
My honoured LORD:  
TO show that your greatness in yourself hath not made me fearful unto despair, nor your graciousness toward me, bold unto presumption, in a modest confidence I now beg a long-since promised patronage: Horace, who either learned from, or taught the Spheres a perfect musical harmony, and made the language of Rome truly Roman, (if we may believe himself) was as meanly descended as my own self; yet did not his meanness deprive him of a presidiary Maecenas, a Roman Knight, high in Honours, and (which was the greatest) in his Prince's love: and it is questionable whether Horace were more helped by Maecenas hand, or Maecenas more honoured by Horace his pen: Horace lived well under Maecenas protection, Maecenas yet lives in Horace his Poesy: Dignum laude Virum Musa vetat mori; Coelo musa beat. I now present unto your Honour's hand, the same Poet, but in an English dress; nor can it be more difficult to find an English Maecenas, than to make an English Horace: It is not unknown to those that have bend their studies this way, how hard it is to be tied to the words and matter of another, especially in verse; and yet if you please graciously to accept, and powerfully to protect my weak endeavours, I was never so much bound to my Author's phrase, as I shall be to your Honour's favour. Vouchsafe a gracious aspect to these my labours, and I doubt not but those comfortable rays darted from your eyes, will now give me life, as they have heretofore given me heat. The lofty riding Sunce in his diurnal course doth shine as bright on a mean cottage, as a Prince's Palace; and though his beams cannot raise it to an equal height, yet they impart light and comfort to both alike. I know the Nobleness of your disposition will accept of my Translation as well in parchment, as if it had been wrapped up in plush; in velum as in velvet; considering the matter is still the same, as when that Muse's darling Horace wrote it: a curious Cabinet cannot make gold better, nor a canvas bag, or iron chest diminish the worth of it. I leave my work and self to your gracious patronage, and wish myself may ever be esteemed, as I desire to be  
Your Honour's humble servant, HENRY RIDER.   

The Translator to the Judicious Reader.  
TRanslations of Authors from one language to another, are like old garments turned into new fashions; in which though the stuff● be still the same, yet the die and trimming are altered, and in the making, here something added, there something cut away: yet have I endeavoured to set forth in public the Odes and Epodes of Horace in English verse, with as little loss as may be, unless it be of my own credit, who have presumed to make my glean more than another's harvest, and where he only gathered some few ears, I to bind up straw and all together; for you will find many Odes which have little or no matter in them, as being composed by the prime author only to show the excellency of the Roman phrase, and verse; others mixed of words and matter; many materially excellent. I know I cannot write without the committing of many errors, somewhereof may pass undetected to many, which I myself may very much mislike; and some may pick a good conceit in some things, where I intended none: others may utterly dislike, what may indifferently please me, and disaffect some epithets which I did labour for: Thus tres mihi convivae prope dissentire etc. Let me give you a tasle of one or two passages, wherein haply, perhaps unhappily I may descent from other judgements: in the fourth Ode of the first Book: Quo simul mearis, Nec regna vini sortiere talls, which the Commentators in my opinion do fail in, making talis vini the adjective and substantive of the genitive case; whereas Talis is a substantive in the ablative ease; for it was a custom among the Romans, at their feasts, to cast the dice who should be the governor of their healths drinking; and this is consonant to Horace himself in the seventh Ode of the second Book— Quem Venus arbitrum Dic●t bibendi: for Venus, or jactus Venereus carried away all: Another thing which I would advertise the Reader of is this, when the same word, of the same ease and gender shall bear two senses, both good; and the Translator, that cannot in his verse render both, shall be thought ignorant in the one, as in this place; Ode thirty five of the first Book: Regumque matres barbarorum, Et purpurei metuunt Tyranni; where the word purpurei may be understood of the cruelty of tyrants, whose hands are dipped in blood; or the royal clothing of Kings and Emperors in purple robes: in the former sense I have translated the words thus,  
And barbarous King's mothers are afeard,  
And tyrants too with purple gore besmeared.  
In the latter sense it may be thus rendered;  
And barbarous king's mothers are afraid,  
And Tyrants too with purple robes arrayed.  
A third sort of mistake is in some whole clause or sentence, as in the fifth Ode of the third Book, concerning Regulus his embassy to Rome, where he saith:  
— Signa ego Punicis  
Affixa delubris, & arma  
Militibus sine caede, dixit,  
Direpta vidi.  
Thus fare I understand of the base cowardice of the Roman soldiers: but for that which followeth,  
— Vidi ego civium  
Retorta tergo brachia libero,  
I wonder that all Commentators, that I have seen, should interpret it of the slavery of the Romans, which is spoken of the fearless walking up and down of the Carthaginian citicens with their hands behind them, after their conquest obtained: and this is evident by the next words.  
Portasque non clausas, et arva  
Marte coli populata nostro.  
A fourth sort of mistake is in the different pointing of a sentence, as you may see in the same Ode:  
Si pugnat extricata densis  
Cerva plagis, erit ille fortis  
Qui perfidis fe credidit hostibus.  
Which if it be read with an interrogation, I can see us sense in it: therefore I read it as a mere concession upon an impossibility, that you may as well make a Dear stay and fight valiantly, when she is escaped from the hunter's toil, as a soldier once freed from his captivity. The last sort of mistakes may be in different readings, as in the seventh Ode of the first book (to give no more instances) where some read, Undique decerptam fronti praeponere olivam: I prefer that other reading, Undique decerptae frondem praeponere olivae: since there the Poet speaks of preferring Athens, Pallas city, and the Olive three sacred to her, before all other cities and trees.  
Take, gentle Reader, these my labours in good part; and if I in this shall give thee any contentment, I hope hereafter to increase it to thee in some other subject; whose study in this hath been, to afford thee both profit and delight.  
Thine in the best of his endeavours, HENRY RIDER.   

THE FIRST BOOK of the Odes of HORACE.  

ODE I. TO MAECENAS. HORACE describeth how several men are delighted with several sorts of life; but himself only with the Name of a Lyric Poet, as that which will prove most for his glory.  
MAEcenas, my protection, and sweet grace,  
Fron great great-grandsire Kings that hadst thy race;  
There's some who love in charrets to raise high  
Th'olympic dust; and then the goal passed by  
By their swift heated wheels, and noble praise  
The Lords of th'earth up to the Gods doth raise.  
Him, if the fickle Roman rout contend  
With trebly doubled honours to commend;  
That man, if he in his own barns have heaped  
What ever from the Libyan floors is swept,  
Loving with's plough to cut his country field,  
With richest proffers you shall ne'er make yield;  
That as a trembling seaman he should rip  
Myrtilus sea up in a Cyprus ship.  
The Merchant lauds his country's ease and rest,  
Fearing the South-west-wind that does contest  
With Icarus seas, strait his torn ships doth rear,  
Being unskilful poverty to bear;  
This man doth love bowls of old Sack to taste,  
And some part of the solid day to waste,  
His corpse being now beneath some green tree spread,  
Now near some sacred fountains gentle head,  
Tents and confused din of fife and drum,  
●nd matron-hated battles do please some:  
The hunter mindless of his tender bride,  
Does under the cool-freezing air abide,  
Whether his trusty hound did spy a Deer,  
Or Marsyan Boar his round holed nets did tear.  
Ivy, the learned heads meed, ranks me above,  
With the high gods; me the coole-sh●ded grove,  
And Nymphs and Satyrs nimble train divide  
From the rout, if Euterpe do not hide  
Her pipe from me, nor Polyhymnia  
Refuse upon her Lesbian lute to play:  
But if 'mong Lyric Poets you'll prick me down,  
He touch the stars with my advanced crown.   

ODE II. TO AUGUSTUS CAESAR. He describeth the tempest, and inundation of Tiber, and intimates that they were sent for the slaughter of Julius Caesar in the Capitol; complaining also of the civil wars that followed upon it; and concludes with a prayer for Augustus.  
NOw hath our Father sent upon this land  
Snow and dire hail enough, and, with fierce hand  
Casting our sacred towers down, hath dismayed  
Our City; he the Nations made afraid,  
L●st Pyrrha's woeful age (who did complain  
Of new-sprung monsters) should return again.  
When Prote●● drove up all his herds to see  
The tops of hills, and on the high elm-tree  
The fishes clung (which was the doves known seat)  
And fearful does on the tossed waves did beat.  
We yellow-sanded Tiber did behold  
With billows from the Tyrrhene Ocean rolled,  
Hurry to beat down our King's monument,  
And Vesta's temple, very violent:  
While he himself a champion did display  
For his too much lamenting Ilia,  
And the wife-serving flood enraged does slide  
(Though love gainsaid it) o'er his cursed side.  
Our youths diminished by their father's fault,  
Shall hear tell that our Citizens have wrought  
Their swords, with which the Persians severe  
Might better fall; they of these wars shall hear.  
What God now shall our people invocate  
Unto our ruine-fearing Empire's state?  
With what prayer shall our sacred virgins call  
Vesta who now hears not our prayers at all?  
On whom will jupiter the office lay  
Of wiping our impieties away?  
Prophet Apollo, come, we pray, at last,  
Thy shoulders with a white cloud being o'rec●st;  
Or if ●ai●e Venus thou please to step out,  
(Whom Mirth and Venus ever fly about)  
Or whether thou our Father cast an eye  
On thy neglected stock and progeny;  
Thou (ah) with too long bloody pastime filled,  
Whom clamour pleases, and the glittering shield,  
And countenance of Indian swift to go,  
Most violent against his wounded foe:  
Or if that thou the winged messenger,  
Thy form being changed, like our young Prince appear  
Upon the earth, thou son of Maia mild,  
Caesar's avenger pleasing to be styled;  
Mayst thou return to heaven again, but late;  
And long live gracious to our Roman state;  
Nor from us let ore-swift fate carry thee  
Offended much at our impiety.  
Here mayst thou purchase worthy conquests rather,  
Here love thou to be styled our Prince and father;  
Nor let the Medians unpunished ride,  
So long as thou, o Caesar, art our guide.   

ODE III. To the ship in which Virgil sailed to Athens. He prayeth the ship to deliver Virgil safe to Athens, then condemneth the rashcesse of him that first went to sea.  
O Ship that ow'st back Virgil trusted to thee,  
Restore him safe to Athens shores, I woo thee,  
And keep the one half of my soul: so, ever,  
May Cyprus potent goddess thee deliver,  
So Helen's brothers, two bright stars, thee guide,  
So the winds Father, (all else up being tide  
Except the west-wind.) Oak and threefold brass  
Went over his heart, who first of all did pass  
The slender ship unto the flood severe,  
Nor rude north struggling 'gainst the south did fear,  
Nor rainy Hyadeses, nor south-wests mood,  
Than which the ruler of the Adrian flood  
Is not more potent, whether he do please  
To raise aloit, or to calm down the seas.  
What step of death feared he, who with eyes dry  
Did gaze upon the monsters swimming by,  
Who did behold the Ocean still uneven,  
And the ill-famed rocks whose tops touched heaven.  
Foreseeing heaven hath parted, all in vain,  
The earth from the unsociable main,  
〈◊〉 for all this these impious ships do go  
Beyond those seas should not be reached unto.  
" Mankind that dares do any thing, hath run  
" Into those sins forbidden to be done.  
Iäpetus bold son toth' earth hath thrown  
Fire by pernicious craft: this fire stolen down  
From heaven's court, Leanness, and a new trained band  
Of fevers reveled in every Land.  
Daedalus passed through the yielding cloud,  
With pinions unto mankind not allowed:  
Hercules labour did through Acheron sail:  
Nothing's too hard for men: even heaven we seal  
By folly, nor through our own sin will let  
jove his revenging bolts aside to set.   

ODE iv TO L. SEXTIUS. A description of the Spring, an exhortation to mirth from the common condition of man's mortality.  
BY Spring and West-winds gentle change about  
Sharp Winter's gone; the engines now launch on  
The long-dry keels, nor do the beasts desire  
The stable, nor the husbandman the fire,  
Nor do the fields with hoary frosts look grey:  
Now Cytherean Venus leads the way,  
While the moone'gins to shine, and sweet-faced Graces  
Joined with Nymphs, shake the earth with mixed paces:  
While the flame-scattering Vulcan now doth fire  
His Cyclops-toiling forges: now to tyre  
The head with myrtle green, and with the bud  
Which the earth now unprisoned bears, is good.  
Now fit to sacrifice in groves close hid  
To Faunw, whether he crave lamb or kid.  
" Pale death with the same foot knocks at the bowers  
" Of the poor men, and at the Prince's towers.  
O happy Sextius, this our lives short scope  
Forbids us to conceive a lasting hope.  
Now, now will death, and ghosts held fabulous  
Seize upon thee, and Plato's fairy house;  
Wither being gone, you shan't at dice acquire  
The rule ' o'th' wine nor Lycidas smooth admire,  
For whom our Youths now all on fire do grow,  
And maids ere long in their desire will glow.   

ODE V TO PYRRHA. The misery of them that do●e on her.  
WHat tender boy upon a rosy b●d,  
Being with liquid odours overspred,  
Within some pleasant bower, doth to thee sue  
(●O Pyrrha) for thy love? for whom do you  
Bind your gold locks, plain in your ornament?  
Alas, how oft shall the proud Boy repent  
Thy false faith, and contemned deities,  
And look with wonderment on those thy seas  
Made rough with black winds, who (too credulous Boy)  
〈◊〉 thee now as some golden prize enjoy?  
Who hopes thou'lt still be free to him, still fair,  
Ignorant of thy all-deluding air.  
Wretched are they to whom untride you shine;  
The wall, by sacred tables made divine,  
Shows I have hung my shipwrecked robe on high  
Unto the Ocean's potent Deity.   

ODE VI TO AGRIPPA. That his battles must be sung by Varius; Horace himself being fit only for meaner subjects.  
THou valiant man, and conqueror of thy foes,  
Shalt be by Varius sung in hymns like those  
Or Homer's muse, what ere thy warlike forces  
Under thy conduct did by ships or horses.  
(Agrippa) we nor strive these things to welld,  
Nor Peleus' sons stout heart, who could not yield,  
Nor yet the wand'ring of Ulysses' sly,  
By sea, nor Pelops bloody family.  
We that are weak ones great things do not use,  
While shame and our weak lyre ore-swaying muse.  
Forbids me worthy Caesar's praise to slain,  
And thine with the ill working of my brain.  
Who worthily can with his pen denote  
Mars armed with an Adamantine coat,  
Or Merion with the Trojan dust besmeared,  
Or Tideus son by Pallas aid upreared  
Equal toth' gods? We sing of Banquet,  
We sing of angered Virgins bicker  
'Gainst young men with paired nails, being free to muse,  
Or, if in love, not lighter than we use.   

ODE VII. TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS. Divers men extol diverse countries, the Poet only likes Tiburtus grove, and exhorts to wash away cares with wine.  
SOme will bright Rhodes or Mitylene extol,  
Or Ephesus, or two-seaed Gorinths' wall,  
Or Thebes by- Bacchus, or else Delphos high  
By Phoebus, or those fields of Thessaly.  
Some there are whose sole work it is to raise  
The virgin Pallas town with lasting lays,  
And to prefer the branch o'th' olive tree  
Fore any boughs that elsewhere gathered be.  
The most part do for juno's honour pitch  
On horse stored Argos, and Mycaene rich.  
Not Lacedaenion so enured to toil  
Did ever so affect me, nor the soil  
Of fat Larissa did me so much sway,  
As th'house of echoing Albunea,  
And steepy Anio, and Tiburnus grove,  
And orchards laved with streams that ever move.  
As oft the cleared north the darkness scours  
From the black heaven, nor breeds perpetual showers;  
So thou, being wise, remember to confine  
Thy griefs, and life's toil, Plancus, in mild wine;  
Whether the Camps with banners glistering hold thee,  
Or that thy Tiber's shady banks shall fold thee.  
From Salamis and's sire when Teucer fled,  
Yet it is said, that he did bind his head,  
Well drenched in Bacchus, with a Poplar crown,  
Thus speaking to his friends so much cast down:  
 fortune, better than my father,  
Shall bear us, mates and friends we'll go together.  
Ye nothing need despair, while Teucer is  
Your guide and aid: for Phoebus promised this  
(Unerring he) that in a newfound land  
A Salamis as good as this should stand:  
O valiant men, and that ofttimes with me  
Have suffered far worse calamity,  
Now do you all your griefs with wine restrain;  
Tomorrow we'll to the vast sea again.   

ODE VIII. TO LYDIA. Concerning a young man wasted with her love.  
LYDIA, speak, by all the gods I pray,  
Why strive you Sibaris to cast away  
For love? Why doth he thus the wide field shun,  
Being enured both to dust and Sun?  
Why rides he not as soldier 'mongst his train,  
Nor with sharp bits his Flanders steeds doth rain?  
Why fears he to swim yellow Tiber o'er  
And shuns, more warily than viper's gore,  
The Olive wreath, nor doth his shoulders show  
Now with the arms he bears made black and blue?  
Oft by the Discus being made renowned,  
Oft by the arrow shot clean through the bound:  
Why lurks he as the sea-queen Thetis boy  
(They say) did, 'bout the woeful fall of Troy,  
Lest that his manlike habit should command  
Him to the wars, and to his Lycian band?   

ODE IX. TO THALIARCHUS. The sharper the winter is, the sweeter our mirth should be.  
Seest thou Soracte white with a deep snow?  
How the bowed trees their weight can't undergo?  
And how the streams bound with sharp ice, do stand?  
Dissolve the frost, laying with bounteous hand  
Wood on the fire, and with a courage bold  
Draw, Thaliarch, thy wine of four years old,  
Out of thy Sabine two-eared pot: the rest  
Leave to the gods, who when they have suppressed  
The winds on the rude sea maintaining war,  
Nor Cypress, nor old Ash-trees shaken are.  
" Inquire thou not what shall to morrow be,  
" And whatsoever day fortune giveth thee,  
" Put it upon thy gains; nor sweet love-glances  
Do thou abhor Obey, nor yet our dances,  
While crabbed age forbears thy youth a space,  
Let both the martial field and wrestling place,  
And softly-whispers when the night comes in,  
At a fit season be revived again;  
And the maids pleasant laugh that her betrayed  
Within some private corner closely laid,  
Or favour being snatched from her arm  
Or finger having done some trifling harm.   

ODE X. An Hymn to MERCURY. The praises of him from several things.  
ELoquent Hermes, Atlas daughter's child,  
That hast reformed rude men's behaviour wild,  
Smooth in thy speech, and in thy managing  
Of the neat wrestling place; thee will I sing,  
Great joves' and the gods Nuntius, and the sire  
Oth'crooked harp, what ere thou didst require,  
Being skilful in a jesting theft to hide:  
Whilst thee, a lad, Apollo terrifi●de  
With threatening words, unless thou didst re●  
The kine that had been stolen away before  
From him by thy deceitfulness; he smiled  
When of his quiver too he was beguiled.  
Nay Priam too (happy in leaving Troy)  
Left Atreu● proud sons, (thou being his convoy)  
The Greek flames, and Troy's weak camps: thou dispossess  
Blessed souls in pleasant shades, and thou inclosest  
The airy drove in with a golden rod,  
Loved from the highest to the lowest god.   

ODE XI. TO LEUCONOE. That she should not trouble herself with future things.  
(IT is a sin) do not thou seek to know  
What fate the gods will on myself bestow,  
What upon thee, Leuconoe, nor try  
The Babylonian Astrology;  
The better to endure what ere may be,  
Whether more Winters jove will grant to thee,  
Or this thy last, which with opposed rocks  
In thunder breaks the Tyrrhene ocean shocks.  
Be wise, and rack thy wines up, and quite break  
Thy long hope off in short space:" while we speak,  
" Envious time flies: lay hold upon this day,  
" Trusting the next as little as you may.   

ODE XII. TO AUGUSTUS. Of Orpheus, of the gods, Heroes, and brave Commanders of Rome, lastly of Augustus.  
WHat man, or Demi god wilt thou aspire  
(Cl●o) to celebrate upon thy lyre,  
Or shrill-tuned pipe? what god? what persons name  
Shall the deluding echo reproclaime  
Or in the shady banks of Helicon,  
Or Pindus, or cold Haemus' tops upon?  
From whence the forests wildly took their way  
After harmonious Orpheus, who could stay  
The floods rough current by his mother's skill,  
And the swift winds, and to his music shrill  
The then-quick-hearing trees had art to raise:  
What rather than our parents usual praise  
Shall I first sing? or him that does command  
Th'affairs of men and gods, rules sea and land,  
And does the world by various seasons guide?  
Than whom no greater power does live beside,  
Nor any equal is, or next in place,  
Yet Pallas hath obtained the nearest grace.  
Nor of thee, Bacchus, will I silent be,  
Valiant in quarrels; nor, O maid, of thee,  
An enemy to savage beasts that art,  
Nor thee, O Phoebus, feared for thy sure dart.  
Alcides I, and Leda's sons will sing,  
The one renowned, for horseback conquering,  
Tother for handy-strokes; whose glorious stars,  
When they appear unto the marinars,  
The forced water from the rocks doth flow,  
The winds are laid, the clouds away do go,  
And presently (because they so do please)  
The threatening waves are still upon the seas.  
Whether, next these, to sing of Romulus,  
Or the serene reign of Pomp●lius,  
Or of Tarqvinius proud dominion,  
Or Cato's noble fate, I stick upon;  
I gratefully will in a lofty verse  
Regulus and the Scauruses next rehearse,  
And Paulus prodigal of his brave blood,  
What time the Carthaginian victor stood,  
Next him Fabritius: crushing poverty  
And a small field left from their ancestry,  
With a meet cell, him fit for war did square,  
And Curius with his uncurious hair;  
Camillus too: Marcellus fame is grown  
Like to a tree, unto an age unknown.  
Among all these the julian star aspires  
Like to the Moon among the lesser fires.  
Thou father and preserver of mankind,  
Begot by Saturn, unto thee assigned  
Let all the care of Caesar's fortunes be;  
Do thou reign chief, and Caesar next to thee,  
He, whether he in a just victory  
Chain the tamed Parthians foes to Italy,  
Or he subdue the Seres and the Moors  
Dwelling upon the oriental shores;  
Inferior to thee, shall as partner take  
The wide world's rule; but thou alone shalt shake  
Heaven with thy ponderous chariot, and shalt cast  
Thy vengeful thunders on the groves unchaste.   

ODE XIII. TO LYDIA. A complaint that she prefers Telephus afore him.  
WHen thou the rosy neck of Telephus,  
Telephus smooth arms (Lydia) praisest thus,  
Ah, my scorched heart with untamed choler swells,  
Nor sense, nor blood in their due station dwells,  
And sweat drops down my cheeks, at it would say,  
With what slow flames am I consumed away?  
I am intaged, whether some ore-hot broil  
Sprung out of wine, did thy white shoulders soil,  
Or whether with his teeth the mad cap spark  
Upon thy lips have set some noted mark.  
You cannot hope, if you will yield to me,  
That he will yours for everlasting be,  
Who barbarously does your sweet kisses harm,  
Which Venus with the Quintessence did warm  
Of her own Nectar." OH thrice blessed are those,  
" And more, whom an unsevered band does close;  
" Nor their loves, by false scandals ren taway,  
" Shall ere unknit until their dying day.   

ODE XIV. TO BRUTUS. A perpetual Allegory against his civil war.  
O Ship, new floods again shall carry you  
Into the sea; o, what dost mean to do?  
Steare quickly to the port: do not you see  
How destitute of oars your portholes be?  
And the main mast, and saile-yard too do crack,  
Being by the swift-winged North wind put to rack;  
And ships without their tackling can't prevail  
On the rough sea; thou hast not one whole sail;  
Thou hast no gods to whom thou out may'st cry,  
Being again oppressed with misery;  
Though thou a Pontic pine (the noblest breed  
Of all the forest) boastest of thy seed,  
And fruitless name; the fearful mariner  
Trusts not in painted boards: then do tho fear,  
Unless thou'lt be a may-game for the wind;  
(Thou that wast late my fearful grief of mind,  
Now my desire and chief care) shun the seas  
Winding among the shining Cyclades.   

ODE XV. Nereus prophesy of the ruin of Troy.  
Where that false shepherd brought by sea away  
In Projan ships his mistress Helena,  
Nereus with an unpleasing laziness  
Fettered the winds, until he did express  
His woeful fate. With an ill omen thou  
Dost bring her home, whom Greece, bound in a vow  
To break thy match, and Priam's ancient reign,  
With many an armed band shall fetch again.  
O what a sweat doth horse and man annoy,  
What slaughters for the nation of Troy  
Dost thou procure? Now Pallas ready hath  
Her helmet, Aegis, charrets, and stern wrath.  
In vain shalt thou comb out thy locks, being stout  
On Venus' aid, and warble thy songs out  
Pleasing to women, on thy feeble lyre;  
In vain shalt thou fly from the javelins, dire  
To beds of love; their shafts of Cretian reed,  
Their clamouring, and Ajax swift of speed  
To follow thee; yet thou, alas, though late,  
Thy lecherous hairs in dust shalt vitiate.  
Dost thou not think upon Laertes son,  
The overthrow of all thy nation,  
Nor Pylian Nestor? Salaminius,  
And Teucer, and the war-skilled Sthenelus  
Fearless pursues thee, who, if need there were,  
To fight on horse, is a swift charioteer.  
Thou shalt know Merion too: Tydeus stern son,  
Stouter than's sire, to find thee mad doth run;  
Whom thou faint heart with panting breath dost fly,  
As a Dear mindless of his prey, doth high  
From the Wolf seen in the vales farther side;  
Thou made not such a promise to your bride.  
The furious navy of Achilles shall  
Procure to Ilium an utter fall,  
And to the Trojan dames: some winter's past.  
The Grecian fire the Trojan towers shall blast.   

ODE XVI. A Recantation. To a maid whom he had libelled, and transfers the cause upon rage, which he describes.  
DAughter more fair than thy fair mother was,  
Upon my libelling iambics pass  
What ever doom you will; whether you please  
To cast them in the fire, or Adrian seas.  
Not Cybele, nor the inhabiter  
Of Pytho, does so much his Priests minds stir  
From his hid cell, nor Bacchus his so much,  
Nor Corybants their tinkling brass so touch,  
As fell wrath us: which nor the Turkish blade,  
Nor the devouring sea can make afraid,  
Nor cruel fire, nor love himself keep under,  
Rushing upon us with his wrathful thunder.  
'Tis said Prometheus, being forced to it,  
Unto his curious piece of clay did knit  
A portion cut from every thing, and pressed  
The raging Lions fury on our breast.  
Rage with a sad destruction overthrew  
Thyestes, and the chiefest causes grew  
In greatest Cities, that they perished all,  
And the insulting foe drove on the wall  
His hostile plough: stop rage; for my breast heat  
Did in my flowing youth on me too beat,  
And upon sharp iambics sent me mad:  
Now with mild songs I seek to change what's sad,  
And since my scandals have recanted been,  
Be friends with me, and give me life again.   

ODE XVII. TO TYNDARIS. He inviteth her to Lucretilis, which he highly praises.  
SWift Faunu● from Lycaeum changing is  
Ofttimes to the sweet aired Lucretilis,  
And parching heat, and cold winds doth remove  
Still from my goats unharmed through each safe grove.  
The strong-smelled he goats mates wand'ring about,  
The sheltering shrubs, and beds of Time seek out,  
Nor the kid fold the green skinned serpent dreads;  
Nor martial wolves; when, Tyndaris, the meads,  
And smooth-trod stones of steep Usticas ground  
With the sweet-tuned pipe do thorough sound.  
The gods keep me; my piety and Muse  
Is grateful to the gods: from hence accrues  
Unto the full, out of the plenteous horn  
A wealthy treasure of the country's corn.  
In a retired vale here shalt thou flee  
The Dog-stars heat, and of Penelope  
And beauteous Circe both for one at suit,  
Shalt thou relate upon thy Teian Lute.  
Here shalt thou drink beneath a shady tree  
Goblets of Lesbian wine ne'er harming thee,  
Nor Bacchus upon Semele begot  
Shall any quarrelings with Mars complot;  
Not yet suspected shalt thou Cyrus fear  
So rash left he his rude hands up should rear  
'Gainst thee too weak, and rend thy fastened crown  
Off from thy hairs, and tear thy harmless gown.   

ODE XVIII. TO QUINTIUS VARUS. That the moderate use of wine makes men pleasant; immoderate, turbulent.  
'Bout Tiburs pleasant pasture, and the wall  
Of Catilus, plant thou no tree at all,  
O Vorus, sooner than the sacred vine;  
For Bacchus to the sober does assign  
All hard afflictions, nor otherwise  
Can they avoid sharp-toothed calamities.  
Who in's wine prates of tedious woe or want?  
Who, father Bacchus, does not of thee chant,  
And thee, fair Venus? but lest some indeed  
The liberties of moderate wine exceed,  
The Centaur's quarrels with the Lapythae,  
Skirmished in their wine, admonish thee.  
Bacchus advises thee, the Thracians foe,  
When greedy of their appetite they go  
Through right and wrong with small distinction.  
Thee, gentle Bacchus, He not set upon,  
Without thy leave, nor bring into the light  
Thy secret rites with many boughs bedight.  
Thy trumpets shrill, and Trojan horn restrain,  
Which blind self-love succeeds, and glory vain,  
The empty head more than is fitting swelling,  
And glasse-transparent trust, hid secrets telling.   

ODE XIX. OF GLYCERA: He is so tormented with love, that be cannot write of war, but wantonness.  
THe Cupids cruel mother, and the son  
Of The bane Semele commands me on,  
And wanton liberty, again to move  
My mind unto my long forsaken love.  
Glycera's beauty fireth me alone,  
Shining more bright than Parian marble stone.  
Her lovely skornfulnesse inflameth me,  
And look too dangerous for me to see  
Venus upon me rushing with her might,  
Left Cyprus, nor would suffer me to write  
Of Scythians, and of Parthians valorous  
On wrong-turned steeds, nor what concerns not us.  
Young striplings, lay for me green fresh turf here,  
Vervine and frankincense dispose me there,  
With bowls of wine of two years old well filled:  
she'll be more mild, the sacrifice being killed.   

ODE XX. TO MAECENAS. He inviteth him to a mean banquet.  
WEak Sabine wine in small cups shalt thou taste,  
Which in a Greek Pot closed myself had cased  
Dear Knight Maecenas) when that the applause  
Was given thee in the Theatre; the cause  
That thy own rivers banks, and prattling air  
Of the hill Vatican, did again declare  
Thy praises unto thee. Thou shalt digest  
Thy Caecube wine and grapes that have been pressed  
Out of the Calene fat: nor Falern wine  
Nor Formian hills adorn these cups of mine.   

ODE XXI. He exhorteth young men and maids to the praise of Apollo and Diana.  
YE tender Virgins Diana sing,  
Ye young men long haired Phoebus' ring,  
And Latona loved dear  
Of the mighty jupiter.  
Sing ye her that pleased is  
With rivers and the leaves of trees.  
Which in cold Algidum do move,  
Or Erimanthus shadle grove,  
Or Cragus green: Ye youngmen raise  
Tempe with as many lays;  
Do ye also Delos hollow  
Being the birthplace of Apollo,  
And his shoulders dignified  
With shafts and's brother's lute beside.  
He woeful war shall chase from hence,  
He wretched dearth and pestilence  
From people, and from Emperor Caesar,  
For the Persians up shalt treasure,  
And against the British nation,  
Moved with your supplication,   

ODE XXII. TO ARISTIUS. The integrity of life is every where safe, which he proves by his own example.  
THe sound of life, and from corruption freed,  
(Fuscus) nor Indian darts, nor how doth need,  
Nor quiver full of poisoned shafts, though he  
Thorough the patching sands to travel be,  
Or the inhospitable Caucasus,  
Or places which Hydaspes fabulous  
Runs through; for in the Sabine grove from me  
Being unarmed, a Wolf away did flee,  
While I did chant my Lalage, and go  
Beyond my bounds, being devoid of woe:  
A monster which nor warlike Daunia feeds  
In her large fields, nor Iuba's kingdom breeds,  
The Lion's dry nurse. Say you banish me  
Unto those frozen lands, where never tree  
Is recreated by the Summer heat,  
Which part' o'th' world fogs and bad mists do beat:  
Place me beneath the car ' o'th' too-neere Sun,  
Even in a Land where habitation  
Was never known; yet will I still love thee,  
My sweet-faced, and my sweet-tongued Lalage.   

ODE XXIII. TO CHLOE. That she should not fear him, but forsake her mother, being ripe for a husband.  
LIke to a Hind thou Chloe dost me fly  
That seeks his dam upon the mountains high,  
With a fond fear of winds and trees.  
For if the spring-time with moved leaves did rush,  
Or green-skind Adder brustled through abush,  
He trembles both in heart and knees.  
But I not like a Tiger fell,  
Or a Getulian Lion, will  
Pursue to rear thee: cease at length to flit  
After thy dam, being for a husband fit.   

ODE XXIV. TO VIRGIL. Of the death of Quintilius.  
MELPOMENE, thou unto whom thy fire  
Gave a sweet voice together with thy lyre,  
Sing thy sad tunes; what mean can be, or end  
To the bewailing of so dear a friend?  
Does then an everlasting sleep possess  
Quintilius? unto whom both modestnesse  
And Justice sister (Faith from scandal clear)  
And naked Truth when will they find a peer.  
Bewailed of many good men died he,  
Bewailed of no man, Virgil, more than thee.  
Thou pious man (alas) but all in vain,  
Demandst Quintilius of the gods again,  
Not lent them to that end: but if that you  
Should tune that Lute which trees did hearken to,  
Better than Thracian Orpheus, yet again  
Life to that airy shape can ne'er come in,  
Which Mercury (who never could be won  
To reverse faces upon petition)  
Hath once commanded down to his black guard  
With his most dreaded rod; the case is hard.  
But" that by patience is made more light,  
" Which 'tis not in our power to set aright.   

ODE XXV. TO LYDIA. He insulteth over Lydia, that now being old she is despised of youngsters.  
BOld youngsters thy closed windows seldom shake  
With doubled blows, nor thy sleeps from thee take,  
And still the door keeps shut, which heretofore  
His oiled hinges moved over and over:  
Now less and less thou'rt famed: whilst, Lydia,  
I fall from thee, thou sleepest whole nights away.  
In like sort, base old bawd, thou shalt complain  
For thy proud lechers down in some by-lane,  
Whilst near th'eclipse the northwind blows more high,  
When thy inflamed love, and lechery  
That's wont to make ma●es mad, shall rage's upon  
Thy diseased heart, with lamentation  
That more in love each sprightful youngster grows  
With green leaved svie, and fresh Myrtle boughs,  
And the d●le withered leaves does dedicated  
To Hebrus stream the frosts associate.   

ODE XXVI. In the praise of Lamia's.  
I That unto the Muses am a friend,  
My griefs and fears to rough winds will commend  
Into the Cretick Ocean them to fling.  
Nor will I notice take, by whom the King  
Of the cold clime near the North pole's obeyed,  
Nor what makes Tiridates sore afraid.  
O thou harmonious Pimplaean muse,  
That dost a bout the full-b immed fountains use,  
Compose together flowers newly blown,  
O make thou for my Lamia's a crown.  
My praisings can do nothing without you;  
It doth behoove thee, and thy sisters too,  
Him with your new strung Lutes to raise on high,  
Him with your Lesbian Harp to deify.   

ODE XXVII. To his Companions. Against quarrelling in drink: desiring M●gella's brother to drink his mistress health, hearing her name, he pities him.  
IT is the course of Thracians to fight  
With cups made for increasing of delight:  
Take that Barbarian custom hence, and stay  
Your ruddy wine from any bloody f●ay.  
From wine and midnight revels strange it is  
How much the Median Scimitar disagrees.  
Alloy, companions, this tumult ill,  
And lean upon your rested elbows still.  
And would you have mequaffe my part up too  
Of quarrell-breeding Falern wine with you?  
Let Opus-bred Megellaes' brother say,  
With what wound he blessed soul doth pine away?  
By what dart? what now, slacks your disposition?  
I will not drink, except on this condition.  
What love so ere thee quells, it burns thee yet  
With no base fires; and with ingenuous heat  
Thou still dost fry; what ere thou hast, impart,  
Trust it with my safe ears: Ah wretched heart!  
In what a vast Charybdis dost thou tyre,  
My boy more worthy of a better fire?  
What witch, or what enchanter can you free  
With his Thessalian drugs? what deity?  
Scarce Pegasus shall theo once bound at stake  
From this three-shaped Chimaera ever take.   

ODE XXVIII. An answer of Archytas, the Philosopher, to a Sailor, concerning the common necessity of death.  
THee the surve your both of sea and land,  
And of the never to be numbered sand,  
The small gifts of a little dust do stay  
Thee, Archytas, near the Portuguese bay:  
Nor does it profit thee, (being to die)  
To have searched heaven, and run through the round sky  
In thy conceit. Why, Pelops father died,  
Though the god's guest; Tithonus too beside  
Caught up into the air: and Minos chose  
One of love's privie-councell: hell doth close  
Pythagoras once more to hell resigned,  
Though he the Trojan age calling to mind,  
By his erected shield, did dedicated  
Nought but his nerves and skin to cruel fate,  
Who (thou being judge) could no mean author be  
Of Physics, and of true morality.  
But there's one night for all men tarrieth,  
And the once-to-be-trodden path of death.  
Fiends on stern Mars do some for sport bestow,  
The sea's the greedy sailors overthrow.  
Mixed funerals of old and young are heaped;  
Dire Proserpina o'er no man's head hath leapt:  
The southwind western Orion's rude mate to  
Me in th' Illyrian ocean o'erthrew.  
But thou (though cruel-hearted) Mariner  
Some of thy waste sand spare not to confer  
Upon my bones and head unburied yet;  
So whatsoever the southeast wind may threat  
Upon the Spanish seas, while safe thou art,  
Let the Venusian forest feel the smart;  
And may much traffic (whence it best may prove)  
Flow in unto thee from propitious love,  
And Neptune's hallowed Tarentine deity;  
But if you fear not to do an impiety  
Harmful unto thy harmless progeny,  
My unpaied rites and hard fate watch for thee;  
And till my prayer be answered He not bate,  
And thee no sacrifice shall expiate.  
Though you make haste, (it will be no long stay)  
Throw mould thrice on me, you may run your way.   

ODE XXIX. TO ICCIUS. Wondering that he should turn from a Philosopher to a soldier.  
TH' Arabians rich store thou now envi'st,  
(O Iccius) and sharp artillery buy'st  
'Gainst the Sabean Kings ne'er conquered yet,  
And for the horrid Mede thou chains dost knit.  
What barbarous virgin (her bettothed love slain.)  
Shall tend on thee? what boy of courtly strain  
With perfumed locks shall stand thy cup to fill,  
Who by his native archery hath skill  
To shoot the Parthian darts? Who will deny  
Steep rivers may run up the mountains high,  
And Tiber turn, when as thou dost assay  
To change Panaetius brave works away,  
Bought on all hands, and thy Socratic ware  
For Spanish beles; once promising so fair?   

ODE XXX. TO VENUS. Praying her to come to Glycera's Temple.  
VENUS of Cnidus and of Paphos Queen,  
Scorn thy forsaken Cyprus, and come in  
To the neat Temple of my Glycera,  
Who with much incense does unto thee pray.  
Let your most furious stripling com● with you,  
And loose-roabed Graces, and the Nymphs come too,  
And let youths goddess come, (that without thee  
Is nothing beautiful) and Mercury.   

ODE XXXI. TO APOLLO. Requiring only health of body and mind, being he loved frugality.  
WHat craves the Priest from Phoebus' most divine?  
What asks he, pouring from his bowl new wine?  
Not the full ears of fat Sardinia,  
Nor lovely herds of hot Calabria,  
Neither the Indian gold, nor Ivory,  
Neither the fields which Lyris glideth by  
(That silent river with his quiet stream)  
They to whom fortune hath given vines, let them  
Prune them with hooks; and out of bowls of gold  
Let the rich merchant suck is wines were sold  
For Syrian ware: he to the gods is dear,  
Because he three or four times in a year  
Unharmed th' Atlantic Ocean can see.  
Olives and Succory do nourish me,  
And loos'ning Mallows. Grant Latona's son,  
While I am strong, that I may feed upon  
What next comes; and with perfect mind I pray  
To pass a sweet and merry age away.   

ODE XXXII. To his Lute. Praising it, from the comfort it yielded Alcaeus.  
WE are desired, if we (alone) have played  
Any thing on thee underneath some shade;  
Proceed my Lute, a Latin song tune over,  
Which both this year may live, and many more.  
Thou first tuned by that Lesbian citizen,  
Who (valiant man at arms) though he had been  
Amidst his troops, or else had launched out  
His navy from the washed shores tossed about,  
Bacchus, the Muses too, and Venus sung,  
And her boy too that ever on her hung,  
And Lycus beautiful with his black eyes,  
And his black hair: O Lute, Apollo's prize,  
And loved at feasts of mighty jupiter,  
O thou my labours sweetest temperer,  
All happiness be wished to thee from me,  
When in a comely sort I summon thee   

ODE XXXIII. TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS. Comforting him; that loving, was not beloved again.  
Do not thou grieve too much, bearing in mind,  
(O Albius) thy Glycera unkind,  
Nor tune sad lays, 'cause one more young than thou  
Is more accepted, throw her cancelled vow.  
The love of Cyrus doth Lycoris burn.  
Famed for her comely brow; Cyrus doth turn  
After rough-natured Pholoë; but first  
Kids shall among Apulian Wolves be nursed,  
Ere Pholoë sin with that loathed Sodomite;  
For so to Venus it doth seem most right,  
Whom it delights in brezen yokes to bind  
With cruel sport unequal shapes and mind.  
When once there sued to me a love much better,  
Myrtale held me with a pleasing fetter,  
That slave that louder than the sea could roar  
Of Adria curling the Portuguese shore.   

ODE XXXIV. He forsaketh the irreligious Epiturcan sect.  
THe gods but scarce and seldom worshipper,  
While skilled in mad Philosophy I err,  
I now am made to turn my sails perforce,  
And fall back to my long-forsaken course.  
For with bright flames the cloud dividing jove  
His thunder-shod steeds, and swift chariot drove  
Through the bright air, with which the earth so great,  
The winding floods, Styx, and the horrid seat  
Of hated hell, and the Atlantic border  
Is thorow-shaken: jove can quickly order  
Small things instead of great, the man of worth  
He makes a beggar, bringing hid things forth.  
The all-confounding fortune with loud cry  
Hence had her height: on this she loves to lie.   

ODE XXXV. To Fortune. Praying her to preserve Caesar in his expedition against the Britain's.  
Goddess that pleasing Antium dost steer,  
Being potent from the lowest step to rear  
The putrifying bod●, and to turn  
The proudest triumphs ●o the funeral urn:  
The Country poor swain with his trembling vow  
Seeks thee; and who the Turkish seas doth blow  
With Greek ships, as the sea's Queen honours thee:  
The Dacians fierce, and Scythians apt to flee  
From place to place, cities and nations too,  
And warlike Italy stands in awe of you,  
And barbarous King's mothers are afeard,  
And Tyrants too with purple gore besmeared.  
O do not thou wi●h a destructive foot  
Our firm fixed pillar from his basis root,  
Nor let the gathered rout to arms command  
Our quiet troops, to arms, and waste our land:  
Severe fate ever does before thee pass,  
Carrying sharp pikes in her hand of brass,  
And wedges; nor from it is severed  
The torturing gibber, nor the molten lead.  
Hope, and Faith (seldom found) being veiled over  
With a white vestiment, does thee adore,  
Nor thee for her companion denies,  
When, as a foe thou leav'st great families,  
With thy changed robe: but the perfidious rout,  
And strumpetizing perjured crew slink out;  
" Friends, when our hogsheads to the lees are dry,  
" Failing to bear the yoke with us, all fly.  
Guard Caesar (ready now to set upon  
The Britain the world's utmost nation)  
And our young soldiers fresh-waterd powers  
So Terrible to all the Fasterne shores,  
And the Red-sea: Ah, ah it shameth me  
To think of homebred scars and cruelty,  
And brother against brother. We, hard seed,  
what have we shunned? we, most accursed breed,  
What left untried? when did our young-trained band,  
In reverence to the gods, restrain their hand?  
What Altars did they spare? would heaven that you  
Would fashion over upon an vills' new  
Those weapons to be hammered out again  
Against the Goths and the Arabian train.   

ODE XXXVI. A gratulation for Numidas safe coming home, and an exhortation to be merry.  
I Love with frankincense and harmony,  
And heifers vowed blood to gratify  
Numidas guarding deities, who again,  
Safely returned from farthest part of Spain,  
Gives many kisses to his friends away,  
But to none more than his dear Lamia;  
Counting their youths spent under the same guide,  
And their gowns changed both at the same tide.  
Let not that glorious day want a white stone,  
Nor stop page of the pierced butt be known;  
And (as the manner of the Salis is)  
Let not our feet have rest, nor Damalis,  
Powerful to drink much wine, Bassus control  
With the longest breathe exceeding Thracian bowl.  
Let's want no roses at our banqueting,  
Parsley still green, ●ilie● soon withering.  
And all shall cast their eyes with lust to stained  
On Damalis, yet shall not she he trained  
Away by any new adulterer,  
Though she more fond than clinging Ivy were.   

ODE XXXVII. Exhorting his compeers to mirth for the victory at Actium.  
NOw must we drink, now freely dance, my mates,  
Now it is time to deck with Saliar cates,  
The table of the gods: it was a fault  
Of late to fetch wine from the ancient vault;  
When the Queen with a loathsome mustered breed,  
(A most infectious hospital indeed)  
Hammered the fancied death and funeral  
Both of the Capitol and state withal;  
Conceiting that she any thing could do,  
And being drunk with her sweet fortune too:  
But scarce one ship escaping from the flame  
Pulled down her rage; and Caesar new did frame  
Her soul, made drunk with her Egyptian crown,  
To real fears, pursuing her straight down  
By sea, when she escaped from Italy,  
(Like as the Hawk at the poor Dove doth fly,  
Or huntsman swift after a hare doth go  
Through fields of Thrace quite covered over with snow:)  
That he in chains the fatal beast might lay;  
But she, who sought to die a nobler way,  
Nor woman-like afraid of swords did stand,  
Nor with quick sails fled tooth Egyptian stand;  
Who brave soul, durst her ruined palace see,  
With countenance full of serenity,  
And handle stinging snakes, that she might drain  
Into her body their infectious bane;  
Growing by her determined death more stout;  
Scorning as captive to be borne about  
In strong Liburnian ships in vaunting show,  
Being a woman of a spirit not low.   

ODE XXXVIII. He wills his boy to provide nothing but Myrtle to the setting forth of his banquet.  
BOy, I do hate the Persian nicety,  
Their garlands bound with ribbons please not me,  
And do not thou molest thyself to know  
In what place the late springing rose doth blow.  
I chief do take care you should provide  
To the plain Myrtle nothing else beside;  
Myrtle will not shame thee my boy, nor me  
Drinking beneath the shadowing vinetree.  
The end of the first Book of the Odes of Horace.    

THE SECOND BOOK of the Odes of HORACE.  

ODE I. TO ASINIUS POLLIO. He desireth him to lay aside his admirable Tragedies, concerning the civil wars that had been in Rome, and the several occurrences therein, till he have selled the affairs of the Commonwealth. Then he commendeth him, and his rare expressions of the war; whereunto he adjoins the deplorable calamity occasioned by their civil dissensions.  
THe civil war, waged when Metellus was  
Our Consul, and each battles several cause,  
And our corruptions, and State-alterations,  
And fortune's sport & kings firm combinations,  
And weapons stained with blood unexpiated  
(A work with dangerous hazard operated)  
Thou tak'st in hand, and thou on fires dost tread  
Under deceitful ashes buried.  
Oh let the Muse of your sad Tragedy  
A short time from the theatres lie by:  
When thou hast ordered State affairs a while,  
On to thy brave work in thy Attic style.  
Rare help to condemned souls oppressed with woe,  
And thy-aid-craving Court, O Pollio,  
To whom in the Dalmatian victory  
The Laurel gave eternal dignity.  
Now with the Trumpets dread noise my ears you fill,  
And now again the Fises sound very shrill;  
And now the armours glistering terrifies  
The praunsing horses, and the horsemen's eyes.  
Me thinks I now do mighty Captains hear  
Besmeared with graceful dust o'er every where,  
And all parts of the universe suppressed,  
Excepting Cato's never daunted breast.  
juno, and what ere Deitic more stable  
Unto the Africans, yet being unable,  
Fled from their unavenged land away,  
Our Conqueror's posterity did slay  
In sacrifice to jugurth: Oh what field,  
Manured with Roman slaughter, does not yield  
A testimony of our wicked war.  
Even from our graves; and the fame noised as fart  
As to the Persians of Rome's overthrow?  
What Ocean or what Rivers do not know  
Our woeful battles, or what Ocean's bay  
Have not our slaughters in Appulia  
Died of a crimson colour? or what shore  
Has wanted any of our sluced gore.  
But lest (bold Muse) leaving your sports you use  
The office of Simonides his muse,  
Upon a gentle restring thy measures move  
Alone with me under some lovely grove.   

ODE II. TO C. SALUSTIUS Crispus. There is no goodness in the possession of wealth, without the moderate use of it. He truly is a King, and a blessed man, that can command his desires.  
THere is no beauty in the silver found  
While it is hid in the devouring ground,  
Crispus Salustius thou foe to coin,  
Unless it with a moderate usage shine.  
Let Proculeius live time unconfined,  
Famed towards his brothers for his father's mind,  
And his surviving fame him up shall bear  
With wings that dissolution do not fear.  
Thou shalt more amply reign, if thou confine  
Thy haughty spirit, than if thou Libya join  
To furthest Cales, and unto thee alone  
Both Carthaginians vow subjection.  
The direselfe-glutting dropsy does increase,  
Nor slakes the thirst, till cause of the disease,  
And all the waterish corruption  
Out of the veins and the pale corpse be gone.  
Virtue that ranks not with the vulgar breast,  
Dischargeth from the number of the blessed  
Phrahates settled in the Persian Throne,  
And new instructeth every nation  
On false opinions not to relie●;  
Giving him a Kingdom, and firm Royalty,  
And perfect praise, who mighty heaps of gold  
Can with an uncorrupted eye behold.   

ODE III. TO GELLIUS. Since we must die, the mind must neither be dejected in adversity, nor puffed up in prosperity.  
REmember Gellius, since thou must die,  
To keep a strong mind in adversity,  
And in best state from haughty glorying free,  
Whether thou all thy life time pensive be,  
Or whether that thou dost thine own self feast,  
Being in some secret Arbour laid to rest,  
With long stored liquor of the Falerne Vine  
On every holiday, where the tall Pine,  
And white leaved Poplar with their boughs do love  
To knit in one an hospitable grove.  
What's here to do? the gliding river prides  
To run with murmurs by his winding sides.  
Go bid the boys bring wine and odours hither,  
And fragrant buds of Roses that soon whither,  
While our estates, and years, and black threed-skeanes  
Of the three sisters do afford us means.  
You purchased fields, and house, and farm shall lose,  
By which the yellow-sanded Tiber flows;  
These you shall part from, and your heir shall reap  
Your riches raised to a mighty heap.  
It skils not whether you be rich in store,  
Descended from old Inachus; or poor,  
And of the meanest rank i'th' fields dost dwell;  
thou'rt but a feast for all-devouring hell:  
Thither we all are driven, all men's fate  
Is shaken in one box, that soon or late  
Must have an end, and us in Charon's wherrie  
To everlasting banishment must ferry.   

ODE FOUR TO XANTHIAS' PHOCEUS. That he should not be ashamed to be captivated to the love of a maid.  
Xanthias' Phoceuss let not a maid's love  
Shame thee: the captive B●is●is did move  
Achives, stern at first, with her fair look;  
The beauty of captived Tecmessa took  
The Lordly Ajax, son of Telamonius;  
And Agamemnon too was mad upon  
A captive maid, amidst his victory,  
After the barbarous troops did slaughtered lie  
By the Thessalian foe, and Hector slain  
Laid open Troy now easier to be taken  
By the over wearied Greeks: you cannot say  
Whether fair Phyllis princely parents may  
Grace thee their son in law: for certainty,  
She does bewail her kingly family,  
And envious household gods: think not that she  
From a dishonest stock was chose for thee;  
Nor one so loyal, so averse from gain,  
Sprung from a mother meriting disdain.  
I, from suspicion free, do highly prise  
Her arms, and face, and her smooth rising thighs:  
Then scorn thou to suspect the man, whose date  
Hastens his fortieth year to consummate,   

ODE V He dehorteth some one of his friends, from the love of Lalage, araw virgin, and not ripe for a husband.  
ON her tamed neck she yet can't undergo  
The yoke, nor office of a bedfellow  
Can yet perform, nor bear the heaviness  
Of the bull that unto his lust doth press.  
Thy heifers mind is for the flowery fields,  
That now near streams the toil some parching shields,  
Now love's 'mong calves in osiers moist to play:  
Put the desire of the sour grape away.  
Ere long the Autumn will display to you,  
His bluish clusters mixed with purple hue.  
Are long she'll seek you; for strong age makes haste,  
And those years, which it takes from thee, shall cast  
All upon her; thy Lalage anon  
With fretted brow her mate shall set upon;  
So amiable, as not Pholoe  
So swift of foot, nor Chloris ere could be:  
She being with her ivory skin as bright,  
As the clear moon shines in the sea by night,  
Or Cnidian Gyges: whom if you would set  
'Mong troops of girls, he wondrously would cheat  
The prying guests (the difference scarce found out)  
with his lose hairs and looks still moving doubt.   

ODE VI TO SEPTIMIUS. He commendeth the sweetness of the air about Tibur and Tarentum; that he would willingly end his days with Septimius in one of them.  
SEptimius, that must go to Cales with me,  
And to the Spaniards that unused be  
To bear our yokes, and to the barbarous shores  
Where still the Mauritanian Ocean roars:  
Would Tibur, by the Argive builder laid,  
Might be the mansion of my old age made;  
Be that the bound to him that's wearied quite  
With navigations, travellings, and fight.  
Which if the envious destinies deny,  
Unto Galesus pleasing streamesile high.  
Among the well fleeced sheep, and to the land  
Ruled by Laconian Phalantus hand.  
That plat of ground above all pleases me,  
Whose honeys no worse than Hymertian be,  
And Olives with green Venafran contend;  
Where Jove long springs, and winters warm doth send;  
And Aulon, loving to the fertile vines,  
Yields but a little to the Falern wines.  
That portion, and those glorious buildings too,  
Together with myself, do wish for you;  
There with true tears you the warm dust shall blend  
Of me that am thy Poet and thy friend.   

ODE VII. TO POMPEIUS VARUS. He congratulateth his fellow-soldier Pompeius Varus his return from war.  
POmpey the chief of my associates,  
That to the utmost hazard of our fates  
Hast oftentimes along with me been led,  
When Brutus of our Armies was the head;  
With whom in wine I oft the long day spent,  
Crowning my bright hairs with my Syrian scent;  
Who hath restored thee a Citizen  
Unto our gods and Roman air again?  
with thee I tasted of Philippi field,  
And swift flight (having basely lost my shield)  
Wher● our foiled powers (and menacing before)  
The foul earth with their bodies covere door.  
But trembling me swift Mercury did shroud  
Thorough my enemies in a thickened cloud:  
But the flood, sucking thee to war again,  
Once more committed to the raging maine.  
Now then to Jove thy vowed offerings pay;  
And thy corpse, wearied with long warfare, lay  
Under my laurel tree, and do not spare  
My wine tubs that for thee appointed are.  
With care removing wine the smooth bowls fill,  
The oil from the capacious Jars distil:  
Who will take order to make up for me  
Wreaths of moist prasley, or the myrtle tree?  
What arbiter will the Venerean throw  
Allow us for our healths? I will not now  
Be less wild than the Thradians: I delight  
Now my friend's safe returned, to be foxed quite.   

ODE VIII. Against BARINE a whore. 'tis no wonder she fears not to forswear, being she is ne'er struck by heaven for it, but rather grows more beautiful after it.  
IF any punishment of perjury,  
Barine, any time had harmed thee,  
Wert thou deformed in one black tooth or nail,  
I should believe: but thou, when thou dost bail  
Thy perjured head with rows, shinest much more fair,  
And walkest abroad, our young men's public care  
Your mother's hidden ashes you may flight,  
And silent constellations of the night,  
With the whole heavens and gods from pale death tied  
Venus (I say) herself doth this deride,  
The plain nymphs smile, and cruel Cupid, framing  
On bloody hones his arrows ever flaming.  
Add here, that all our youth to you improves,  
New servitors grow up, nor former loves  
The house of thee their impious mistress quit,  
Although they oftentimes have threatened it.  
Thee mothers, thee old father's very ●eare,  
In regard of their youthful sons do fear,  
And wretched young girls wed awhile go,  
Lest that thy breath their husbands should forest we.   

ODE IX. TO VALGIUS. He counsels him to give o'er mourning for his young boy Mists.  
FRiend Valgius, showers do not still abound  
From forth the clouds upon the furrowed ground;  
Nor rough storms on the Caspian sea do roar,  
Nor stiff ice stand on the Armenian shore,  
Nor Gargan woods are by the North wind shaken,  
Nor are the Ash-trees of their leaves forsaken  
All the year long: yet thou dost still complain  
In mournful lays for Mists from thee ta'en,  
Nor cease thy plaints when as the night doth rise,  
Nor when again it from the hot Sun flies.  
But that old man who did three ages live,  
For sweet Actilochus did not all times grieve;  
The parent and the Phrygian sisters thus  
bewailed not always beardless Troilus.  
●ease thy soft plaints then, and lets rather raise  
Augustus Caesar's newly purchased pra●se,  
And strong Niphates, and the Median river  
Mixed 'mongst the conquered nations, that deliver  
Their currents weaker; and the Scythians tide  
Within their bounds, in little closes ride.   

ODE X. TO LICINIUS. That mediocrity and evenness of mind, in both fortunes, are the best things to make our lives happy.  
LIcinius, thou shalt live more uprightly,  
If thou nor always do the Ocean try,  
Nor, while you warily the tempests fear,  
Too much along the uneven shore do steer.  
Who loves the golden means (secure) is free  
From filth of a foul cell: contented he  
Wants envie-moving towers: The tall pine oft  
●s shaken with winds; and turrets reared a loft  
Do with the greater ruin downward fall,  
And thunder strikes the highest hills of all.  
The wel-armd breast hopes in his adverse state,  
Fears in fair weather a contrary fate:  
●ove brings rude winters, he doth them remove:  
If it be ill now, 'twill not still so prove.  
Sometime Apollo raises his still Muse  
Unto his Lute, nor still his Bow doth use.  
Thyself courageous and valiant frame  
In adverse matters, and being still the same,  
Thou very wisely in again shalt hale  
In a too prosperous wind thy swelling sail.   

ODE XI. To Q. HIRPINUS. That we should rather live merrily, than toil the mind with thought of things to come.  
QVintius Hirpine cease to inquire what  
The warlike Spaniard and the Scythian plot,  
Parted by th'interposed Adrian waves;  
Nor be thou troubled for thy life that craves  
But a few things for its necessity:  
Smooth youth and comeliness away do fly;  
While withered hoary heads away do keep  
The wanton dallyings, and gentle sleep.  
The spring flowers beauty is not still the same,  
Nor doth the bright Moon still with one shape flame.  
Why dost thou weary out thy soul that is  
Too weak for the eternal my steries?  
Under this tall Plane, or this Pine being laid  
Thus carelessly, and our white hairs displayed  
With roses, and being dressed with Syrian nard,  
Why, while we may do't, do we not drink hard?  
Bacchus dispelleth carping cares away:  
What boy will quickly now our cups allay  
Of heady wine, with the by gliding spring?  
Who will the by laned harlot Lyde bring  
Out of her doors? go and command that she  
Do with her ivory lute make hast come,  
In a smooth combed knot having tied her hair,  
So as the fashions of the Spartans' are.   

ODE XII. TO MAECENAS. Grave and tragic matters will not agree with the wantonness of his lyric verses: that Maecenas may better write the acts of Augustus in prose.  
Do not command that to the lutes soft strings  
Cruel Numances tedious quarrelings,  
Stern Annibal, or seas of Sicily,  
Made red with Punic blood, should fitted be;  
Nor cruel Lapy thaes, nor Hyleus flamed  
Too much with wine, nor the earth's youngsters tamed  
By th'hand of Hercules, whence the bright sphere  
Of ancient Saturn did destruction fear.  
And thou, Maecenas, better shalt dispose  
The wars of Caesar in thy works of prose,  
And necks of threatening Kings dragged through the street:  
But my muse bids me praise the music sweet  
Of my Licinia, and her eyes bright-shining,  
And breast most loyal to our loves conjoining:  
Whom it nor misb: seemed her foot to fit  
In dances, nor to sport in jest, nor knit  
Her arms 'mong comely virgins, being at play  
On honoured Diana's holy day.  
Would you exchange for my licinias hair  
The wealth that rich Achemenes did share;  
Or fertile Phrygias' Mygdonian prize,  
Or the Arabians full treasuries?  
While she doth yield her head to fragrant kisses,  
Or with mild scorn denies; which yet she wishes,  
More than the suitor, he from her would snatch,  
And sometimes doth prevent him, and first catch   

ODE XIII. Cursing a tree with fall whereof in his own ground he had almost been killed, he thence proveth that dangers of death do compass men every hour when they least think of them: the praises of Sapph and Alcaeus, whose songs (especially Alcaeus his) moved admiration even in the Ghosts themselves.  
TRee, he did plant thee in a day accursed,  
And with a wicked hand, who set thee first  
To the destruction of Posterity,  
And to our town's disgrace; I believe he  
Broke his own father's neck, and did all o'er  
Besineare his house with his guest's night shed gore:  
He Colchick poisons, and what ever sin  
Can any way be thought on, traded in;  
Who thee sad trunk set in my field, to fall  
On thy lord: head not meriting it all.  
" Men never can take heed sufficiently  
" Of what at all hours every one should fly:  
The Carthaginian sailor fears the Straits,  
Nor farther doth he dread his hidden fates.  
Our band the Parthians darts, and nimble flight,  
The Parthian fears our chains and Reman might:  
But yet he destinies unsearched power  
Hath swallowed and all nations will devour.  
How near saw I black Proserpina's whole stations,  
And judging Aeacus, and sixth situations  
Of holy souls, and Sapph who did carp  
Against her country dames on her Greek harp;  
And thee Alcaeus, on thy golden strings,  
Sounding out sea fights cruel sufferings,  
The cruel suffering of banishment,  
Wars cruelties with a more full conce●t?  
The ghosts admire they both could chant upon  
Things worth their hallowed attention;  
But rather far, battles, and tyrants slain  
The crowding rout do in their cares retain.  
What wonder? when the hundred-headed hound  
Hags his black ears, amazed at such a sound,  
And ●ll the Adders woven in the hair  
Of the Eumenideses, refreshed are.  
Nay both Proneth●us too, and Pelops sire  
Are eased of torments by their pleasing choir,  
Nor doth Orion care to follow hard  
The Lion, or the panting Leopard.   

ODE XIIII. TO POSTHUMUS. Since death waits for all, Posthumus should not spare those riches which his heir after him will waste-  
Ah, Posthumus, the swift years glide away,  
Nor can thy piety procure a stay  
For wrinkles, swift age, and stern death; though still  
You should, my friend, relentless Pluto fill  
With full three hundred Bulls, through the years course.  
Him who three bodied Geryon doth force,  
And Titvus in sad streams; the which indeed,  
By all of us (who on the blessings feed  
Of this earth) must be throughly passed over,  
Whether that we be kings, or peasants poor.  
In vain we shall from stern death fly away,  
And the dashed waves of bellowing Ad●ia;  
In vain we from the Sou●h wind shall us arm  
That every autumn doth our body's harm:  
Foggy Cocytus we must all go see,  
Which wanders with his streams thatlazie be,  
And Danaus' hated stock, and Sisyphus  
The long toile-suffering son of Aeolus.  
You land, and house, and pleasing wife must lose,  
Neither shall any one of all those trees  
Which you possess, save Cypresses abhorred,  
Attend on thee their quickly perished Lord.  
A worthier heir shall drink thy wines quite dry,  
Kept with a hundred locks, and he shall dye  
His stately pavement with fare better wine,  
Then that at banquets of the Priests divine.   

ODE XV. He condemns their great pride in building, and praises the frugality of old time.  
OUr princely edifices will allow  
But a few acres for the ploughshare now:  
On every side our fishponds shall be seen  
More spacious than the Lucrine fen hath been.  
The single Planetree shall the Elm excel:  
Then violets, myrtles, and all kinds of smell  
Shall odours in those olive yards afford,  
That have been fertile to their former Lord.  
A set of bay trees, thick with branches, than  
The parching sunbeams out from them shall pen;  
'Twas not decreed by th'act of R●mulus  
And unshaved Cato, and the ancients thus.  
The private wealth with them was very small,  
The Common wealth was then the chief of all:  
No Galleries of ten foot measured forth,  
'Mong private men, stood toward the shady North;  
Nor did the laws permit them to desdaine  
The homely grass; commanding them again  
To build their Towns up at the public charge,  
And the gods Temples with new stones enlarge.   

ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS. That all desire tranquillity of mind, but few obtain it.  
THe seaman prayeth to the gods for ease,  
Being tossed upon the vast Aegean seas,  
When a black cloud has hid the Moon, and Stars  
Appear uncertain to the Marinars:  
Furious Thrace for rest from war doth sue;  
The Medes, adorned with their quivers too,  
Do beg for ease, o Grosphus, that is sold  
Neither for gems, nor purple robes, nor gold,  
For neither can the Magazines of store,  
Nor Consuls officer thrust out of door  
The consciences afflictive terrifying,  
And cares about the fretted chambers flying.  
He with a little does contented dine,  
On whose small board his father's salt doth shine,  
Neither despair, nor sordid coveting  
His gentle slumbers ere from him shall wring.  
Why do we proud souls in our span age plot  
A many things? why unto lands made hot  
With different Suns run we? who being banished  
From his own soil, hath from his own self vanished?  
Vicious care the brasse-keeled ships doth scale,  
Neither from troops of horsemen doth it fail,  
More nimble than t●e Roes, and far more swift  
Than the East wind that sets the clouds adrift.  
The mind that for the present time is light,  
To care for what shall follow, let it slight,  
And with sweet laughter temper all things tart:  
there's nothing prosperous in every part.  
A sudden death did brave Achilles slay,  
Lingering age pined Tithonus quite a way;  
And time perhaps may unto me betide  
The thing which it hath unto thee de●ide.  
An hundred flocks, and kine of Sicily  
Do round about thee bellow; unto thee  
The Mare fit for the team doth raise her cry;  
Garments twice dipped in Africa sca let die  
 thee: my never-failing fare did deign  
To me some small grounds, and a slender vein  
Of Grecian poesy, and with it beside  
The still-malicious vulgar to deride.   

ODE XVII. TO MAECENAS being sick. That there is such union of souls between him and Maecenas, that he nor can, nor will live without him.  
WHerefore with thy complaints unsoul'st thou me?  
Pleasing unto the gods it cannot be  
Nor me, that thou, Maecenas, first shouldst die,  
My states great glory and security.  
Ah, if a swifter fare snatch thee away  
The one half of my soul, why do I stay  
●hat ●m the other, that cannot survive  
Tor dear unto myself, nor all alive?  
The day shall work the ruin of us both;  
N●ave not taken a perfidious oath:  
‛ 〈◊〉  
we'll go, we'll go, when thou the ●ay shalt lead,  
Prepared companions our last path to tread.  
Me nor the fiery Chimera's flame,  
Nor hundred handed Gyas, if he came,  
Shall ever part: it pleased on this wise  
All-p●tent Justice and the destinies.  
Whether the Scales or horrid Scorpion  
(My birth-houres stronger part) looks me upon,  
Or Capricorn the Western Ocean's lord,  
Yet both our stars in wondrous sort accord.  
thou Jove's refulgent turelage took back  
From impious Saturn, and the wings did slacks  
Of swift fate, when the people, gathering round,  
Thrice in the Thea'tre made a joyful sound:  
A tree upon my head almost fallen down  
Had murdered me, if Faunus had not thrown  
The force of it aside with his right hand,  
(The Governor of the Mercurrial band)  
Remember thou thy offerings to pay,  
And thy vowed temple: woe'l a meek lamb slay.   

ODE XVII. That he liveth content with his own lot, and mean fortune, while others toil themselves in building magnificent Palaces, even with the oppression of the poor; as if they had forgot that the same common necessity of dying lies on them, that lies on others.  
NOrivory, nor golden roof doth shine  
In any mansion of mine;  
Nor beams, fetched from Hymettus, stay  
On pillars cut from farthest Africa:  
Nor have I ever (as an heir unknown)  
Usurped Attalus his throne;  
Nor do our lame that honest be  
Spin their Laconicke purple wool for me.  
But I have music, and a vein of wit  
Ful-flowing, and the rich submit  
To me a poor man: nothing more  
Than this is do I of the gods implore;  
Nor greater gifts of my great friends request,  
In my one Sabine field well blessed.  
Day is still expelled by day,  
And new moons do increase to wane away.  
Thou marble stones to be hewn out dost hire,  
Near upon thy funeral fire;  
And, mindless of thy Sepulchre,  
Buildest houses, and dost strive the shores to wear  
Of the sea near the baths making a sound,  
Not rich enough on the firm ground.  
Why? cause you your next landmarks waste,  
And greedy o'er your tenants fences haste:  
The man and wife is thrust out, at their breast  
Bearing their gods and brats undressed.  
Yet no house surer doth attend  
The rich lord, than devouring hells fixed end.  
Why seek you more?" the earth alike must be  
" For the poor man, as king's sons free.  
Hell's porter (ne'er with bribes o'erta'en)  
Cunning Promotheus hath not freed again.  
He the proud Tantalus close up doth tie,  
And Tantalus his progeny.  
" Called, or not called, he prepares  
To ease the dying beggar of his cares.   

ODE XIX. TO BACCHUS. It is meet for him to sing Bacchus his praises.  
I Bacchus in remotest rocks did see  
Teaching his song (believe't posterity)  
And Nymphs a learning, and the pricked up cares  
Of the Goat-footed Satyrs: with fresh fears  
My soul doth Evoe utter; and my breast  
Fall gorged with Wine, doth rumblingly egest  
Evoe: O Bacchus spare me, spare me thou  
All dreadful with thy fatal ivy bough,  
It very fitting is for me to sing  
Thy wanton Thyades, and thy wine's spring,  
And thy full stream of milk to chant again,  
And honey dropping from the hollow cane:  
It's sit for me to descant on the Crown  
Of thy blessed wife, among the stais fixed down;  
And Penibeus house thrown down with no mean blow,  
And Thracian Lycurgus' overthrow.  
Thou rivers, thou the barbarous sea dost still,  
Thou, throughly drenched on some retired hill,  
Together in a viperous knot dost charm  
The Thracian women's tresses without harm.  
When as the Giant's impious Company  
Assailed your father's kingdom through the sky,  
You Rhoecus with his lion's paws o'erthrew,  
And with his horrid jaws: although that you  
Being held more fit for masks, and plays, and sport,  
As one scarce fit for war had the report;  
Yet thou wast found for peace indifferent,  
And war too: Cerberus, then innocent,  
Saw thee adorned with the golden Crown,  
Wagging his tail full gently up and down;  
And with's three-tongued chaps 'bout the feet did play,  
And legs of thee when thou didst part away.   

ODE XX. TO MAECENAS. That he hath got himself immortal glory by his poems, and that he shall be famous with theremotest and most barbarous nations.  
I A two shaped poet will not fly  
With common and mean wings through the moist sky;  
Nor to the earth will any longer cleave,  
And above envy I the world will leave.  
I the succession of my parents poor,  
I, dear Maecenas, whom thou dost implore,  
Will not quite perish, neither will I be  
Stayed in the Stygian pool continually.  
Now, now rough skin upon my thighs doth grow,  
And I a silver Swan am turned unto  
In all my upper parts, and gentle down  
Upon my fingers and my arms is grown.  
Now swifter than Daedalean Icarus  
I'll see the shores of roaring Bosphorus,  
(Being a sweet voiced Cygnet) and the sands  
Of Astricke, and the Hyperborean lands.  
The Colchick and the Dacian me shall know,  
Who at our Marsian troops a fear do show:  
The remote Scytheses, and Spaniard valiant,  
And also Rhodanus inhabitant.  
Far be sad tunes from my mean obsequies,  
And squalid lamentations and cries;  
Keep to yourself all clamours, and defer  
The needless duties of my Sepulchre.  
The end of the second Book.    

THE THIRD BOOK Of the Odes of HORACE.  

ODE I. Blessedness consists not in wealth or honour, but in quietness and contentedness.  

I Do abhor the multitude profane,  
And chase them hence: do ye your tongues restrain.  
I priest unto the Muses, warble over  
To maids, and young men, songs ne'er heard before:  
" Dreadful kings power is over their proper drove,  
" o'er kings themselves is the command of jove,  
Made famous in the giants victory,  
And over ruling all things with his eye.   

It may be one man than another, may  
His trees more largely in his furrows lay;  
This a more generous suitor may descend  
Into the field; another may contend  
Better in his conditions and report;  
More store of client may to him resort;  
" Death by the same law, high and low doth take,  
His spacious lottery every name doth shake.   

Over whose vile head hangs a naked sword,  
Neither Sicilian dainties can afford  
A pleasing relish to him, nor the strain  
Of birds and lutes reduce his sleep again:  
Sweet sleep disdains not country clowns low sheds,  
And shady banks, and Zephyre-fanned meade●.   

Him that desireth only what's enough,  
Neither the Ocean sea, being made rough,  
Nor cruel raging of the falling Bear,  
Or rising Capricorn can strike with fear:  
Neither his vineyards battered with the hail;  
Nor plate of ground that does of bearing fail,  
While now the trees do at the waters carp,  
Now at earth-parching stars, now winter's sharp.  
The very fishes feel the ocean shrunk  
With huge foundations in their bottom sunk  
The busy purchaser, and landlord (grown  
Weary oth'land) sends hither his hew'ne stone,  
With workmen; but" despair and horror got  
" That way their master does; nor will black woe  
" Depart from the brasse-armed keel, and it  
" Even behind the horsemans' back does sit.  
But if not Phrygian stone, nor purples shine,  
More glorious than the stars, nor Falerne wine,  
Nor Western shrubs can ease the grieved spirit,  
Wherefore with pillars that may envy merit,  
And in a new invented way shall I  
A high exalted palace edify?  
Wherefore shall I exchange my Sabine grove  
For riches that more troublesome will prove?    

ODE II. An exhortation to endure hardness and poverty.  

LEt the tough youth in bitter war-fare try  
Easily to endure hard poverty,  
And like a dreadful horseman, with his spear,  
Strike the o'erdaring Parthians with fear,  
And in the open field to lead his life,  
And dangerous adventures; while the wife  
Of the encounting king, and the ripe bride.  
From off their hostile walls, having him spied,  
She Id sigh (alas!) for fear her princely mate,  
Unskilful of the wars, should initate  
This same incensed lion with his blows,  
Whom bloody rage through midst of slaughters throws.  
" It is a sweet and glorious thing to die  
" For our own country: Death does even fly  
" After the flying man, nor does he slack  
" From saint-heart youths heels, and the fearful back.  
" Valour, that base repulses cannot know,  
" With unstained honours does refulgent grow,  
" And by the suffrage of the people's breath,  
" Nor receives honours, nor surrendereth.  
" Valour that does set heaven wide open for those  
" That merit not to die; its journey goes  
" Through envious we yes, and with a soaring wing  
" 'Bove vulgar troops and the dull earth does spring,   

There's sure pay too for faithful secrecy:  
I will forbid that he, who should descry  
Night adored Ceres' sacrifice, should be  
Under the same roof, and launch out with me  
My slender bark: jove, often, being slighted,  
Hath to the full the wicked man requited.  
" Tourture with limping feet seldom gives ore  
" The wicked man that trips away before.    

ODE III. The power of justice and constancy: Juno's prophecy of the stability of the Roman empire.  
THe just man, and unto his purpose standing,  
Not rage of citizens had things commanding,  
Not threatening tyrant's frown, from his firm mind  
Can startle him, nor yet the Southern wind,  
The tumbling Adria's rumbling governor.  
Nor mighty hand of thundering jupiter;  
Though the world fall on him, in sunder fill,  
The ruin on't shall him undaunted hit.  
Pollux, and the far-wandring Hercules  
Steering this course on the bright spheres did seize,  
Among the whom Augustus being laid,  
Drinks Nectar with his lips all purple made.  
Thee, father Bacchus, this way meriting,  
Thy tigers, on their rude neck carrying  
The yoke, did raise thee: Romul●s did part  
From hell on Mars his horses by this art:  
When juno pleasingly spoke in this sort  
To all the Gods assembled then in court:  
An evill-omend Umpire, and unjust,  
And a strange woman turns Troy into dust,  
Of me, and chaste Minerva too abhorred,  
Both with the nation, and deceitful lord,  
Ere since the time in which Laomedon  
Denied the gods their due agreed upon.  
The Spartan strumpers para'mour infamous  
Now triumphs not, not Priam's perjared house  
Weakens the fight Greeks' by Hector's aid;  
And the war by our discords tedious made,  
Is ended; from henceforth my spleen severe  
And hated kinsman whom that Nun did bear  
From Troy descended, I will now bestow  
Oa Mars again: him will I grant to go  
Unto the bright spheres, Nectar's juice to taste,  
And'mong the god's blessed orders to be placed:  
So a vast sea 'twixt Troy and Rome may roar,  
O may this exile-breed on any shore  
Reign glorious: so long as any drove  
O'er Priamus and Paris grave may r●ve,  
And wild beasts fearless there their whelps may hide,  
Refulgent may the Capitol abide,  
And s●o●ne Rome give the conquered Medes a law;  
Dreadful far off may she her knowledge draw  
Even unto the farthest continent,  
(What way the Ocean interjacent  
Furopa from the African d●s bound,  
What way the swelling Nile the fields doth drowned)  
More valiant in despising unfound gold,  
And so best placed when earth doth it enfold,  
Than in congesting it for humane using,  
With a hand every ffollowed thing abusing.  
What part o'th' world so e'er stands out unknown,  
That with her armies let her land upon,  
Thirsting to see what way the fire, and where  
The cloud, and watery dews do domineer.  
But to the warlike Romans I present  
These fates on this ground; if (too pious bent,  
And too much trusting their own strength) they ne'er  
Will old Troy's Palaces anew upreare.  
Troy's pride renewing with an ill staried fate,  
With sad destruction shall be ruinare,  
While I the wife and sister too of jove  
Will my victorious armies onward move.  
Thrice should there rise again a brazen wall,  
And Thoebus' author on't; thrice should it fall,  
Razed by my Greeks: the captive wife thrice o'er  
Her husband and her children should deplore.  
These things agree not to my sporting Lute;  
Muse, whither wilt thou? wanton thing be mute  
Th'orations of the deities to relate,  
And brave things with base lays t'attenuate.   

ODE IU. He is guarded by the Muses, and takes advice from them: power without counsel perishes.  
DEscend from heaven, O Queen Calliope,  
And sound an everlasting harmony  
Upon thy pipe, or, if you it desire,  
With your shtill voice, or harps, or Phoebus' lyre.  
D'ye hear? or d●s a pleasing lunacy  
Enfatuate me? for me thinks that I  
Do hear it, and do range through the blessed grove,  
'Bout which the pleasant springs and winds do rove.  
On the Apulian Praetors hilly ground,  
Beyond my fabulous nurse Apulia's bound,  
Me, than a boy, with play and sleep misled,  
The ringdoves with fresh green leaves covered:  
That might seem strange to all those that possessed  
The lofty seated Acherontia's nest,  
And Bantine pastures, and the fertile ground  
Of low Ferentum; that, my body sound  
From poisoned Snakes, and Bears, I should sleep there,  
That I with laurel boughs that sacred were,  
And gathered myrtles overspread should be;  
(An infant heartened by some deity.)  
Your votary, ye Muses, only yours,  
I'm drawn up to the craggy Sabine bowers;  
Or whether the steepe-sited Tibur hath  
Delighted me, or the serene-aired Bath.  
Me friend unto your fountains and your train,  
Our army from Philippi chased amain  
O'erthrew not, nor that cursed piece of wood,  
Nor Palinure in the Sicilian flood.  
When you shall be with me, I willingly  
The raging straits will as a sailor try,  
And, as a traveller, I will pass o'er  
The parching sands of the Assyrian shore:  
I'll see the Britons cruel to their guests,  
And Concanus with horse's blood that ●easts;  
I'll visit the Geloni quiver-armed,  
And river of the Scythians unharmed.  
You recreate in your Pierian grove  
The Mighty Caesar, labouring to remove  
His troubles, when he in his garrisons  
Has lodged up his war-spent legions.  
You, heavenly souls, gentle advice bestow,  
And glory in't, being so given: we know  
How he with falling lightning overthrew  
The impious Titans, and their savage crew;  
He who with unmoved power the unmoved land,  
And floating se●, and cities doth command,  
And sad-doomed kingdoms, and the gods beside,  
And mortal multitudes alone doth guide.  
Those horrid monsters on their arms relying,  
Did strike in jove a mighty terrifying,  
And all their brothers also menacing  
On shadi'e Olympus Pelion to fling.  
I, but what could Typheous then have done,  
Strong Mimas, and sterne-lookt Porphyrion?  
What Rhoecus, and the Archer impudent,  
Enceladus, with trees by th'roots up rend,  
Rushing 'gainst Pallas shining Aegis? here  
Stood greedy Vulcan, Matron juno there,  
And he who from his shoulders ne'er will spare  
His archery, who drenches his lose hair  
In the pure fountain of Castalia,  
Who does the champain ground of Lycia sway,  
And grove famed for his place of birth; Apollo,  
Whom Delos and whom Patara doth baton.  
" Power voided of poli'cie sinks with its own weight ',  
" We'l-tempered strength the gods do propagate  
" To greater force: they do the powers detest,  
" That raise up all infection in our breast.  
The hundred-handed Gyas is well known  
The witness of my truths, and Orion,  
He who the chaste Diana injured,  
And by the Virgin's shaft was punished.  
Th' earth cast on her own monsters, does lament,  
And grieves her children are with thunder sent  
To s●orie hell, nor can the fires swift some  
Aetna, injected on them, yet consume.  
I, and the vulture never does so bear  
The heart of Tityus the ravither,  
Being set the tort'rer of his lustfulness;  
Three hundred chains lustful Pirithous press.   

ODE V Of Augustus his victory over the Britain's: the dishonourable condation of Crassus' soldiers taken captive: Regulus speech to the Senate, exhorting them not to redeem their captives from Carthage.  
WE believed thundering love reigns in the sky;  
Augustus here a gracious deity  
Shall be esteemed; now that the Britaines be,  
And fatal Medes joined to his empery.  
Can Crassus' soldiers then with barbarous wives,  
(Being dishonoured husbands) lead their lives?  
And; o our State and manners altered!)  
Can then our Marsians, and Apulians bred,  
Grow ancient men in the def●nce of those  
Now fathers in law to them, once their foes,  
Under a Persian king, for getting strait  
Their divine thields, their glory, and their State,  
And also Vesta's never dying fire,  
love and our City Rome being still entire?  
Regulus prudent mind this thing prevented,  
Who from their base conditions dissented,  
And from a precedent might ruin fling  
Upon the after-ages following;  
If that our captive-souldiers might not be  
Without all pity lost. I saw, said he,  
Our ensigns in the Punic temples hung,  
And swords, without blows, from our soldiers wrung;  
I also did their citizens arms behold  
Behind their now-free-backs together rolled,  
And gates not shut, and fields now tilled o'er  
Despoiled by our armies heretofore.  
Sure our gold-ransomed soldiers will again  
Come on more fierce; you add unto your sia  
A detriment;" wool being dipped in grain,  
" Can never after his lost hue regain?  
" Nor does true virtue, when it's once sunk down,  
" Care to be lodged in men that worse are grown.  
If the Stag, from the thick laid nets got free,  
Will stand to fight, then will he valiant be  
Who to perfidious foes himself did yield;  
Then will he vanquish in a second field  
The Carthaginians, who (faintheart) did wear  
Thongs on his fettered arms, and death did fear.  
He being ignorant from whence to take  
His life, in midst of war a league did make:  
O shame, O mighty Carthage, made more high  
By the opprobrious falls of Italy.  
'Tis said, as one condemned to lose his life,  
He put from him the kiss of his chaste wife,  
And children small, and (looking sternly,) bound  
His manly countenance upon the ground;  
While he the faltering Senators set even,  
With counsel, such as like it ne'er was given;  
And in the midst of all his friends aghast,  
This noble exile to his journey past.  
Yet what the barbarous hangman did devise  
For him, he knew: yet he no otherwise  
His remorating kindred did adjourn,  
And all the people stopping his return,  
Then if, the term being done, he did withdraw  
From all his clients tedious suits of Law;  
To the Venafran fields taking his way,  
Or to Tarentum of Laconia.   

ODE VI To the Romans. The baseness of the present age, and the braveness of the former ages.  
O Roman, thou, although thou guiltless be,  
For thy forefather's sins shalt punished be,  
Till thou the gods shrines, and their Fanes decayed  
And statues, fouled with black smoke, new hast made.  
" That to the gods yourself you subject make,  
" Therein you reign: henceall beginnings take,  
" Hither each issue bring: the gods, neglected,  
" Have many plagues on woeful Spain injected.  
Moneses' twice, and Pa●orus his powers,  
Have battered these ill-fated troops of ours,  
And are grown proud that they have ta'neaway  
Them in their little fetters, as a prey.  
The Dacian and the Moor have quice erased  
Our cities with sedition near defaced:  
The one being in his shipping formidable,  
The other in swift-flying darts more able.  
Our times, full-swolne with sin, first overthrew  
Our marches, kindreds, and our houses too:  
Destruction, from thy fountain running down,  
Has o'er the country and the people flown.  
The new ripe girl delighteth to be taught  
Jonick dances, and is nimble wrought  
In all her joints, and from her tends years  
Her unchastelonging in her mind she bears.  
Strait she more wanton paramours pursues  
Amidst her husband's cups; nor does she choose  
One to whom she by stealth may deal about  
Her lawless pleasures when the lights are out;  
But before folks, being bid, she up doth get,  
And not without her husband knowing it;  
Whether some Clerk, or Spanish-ship-master  
(Dear buyer of disgraces) summon her.  
Our youngsters, from such parentage descended,  
The sea with Carthaginian blood ne'er blended;  
Nor Pyrrhus, nor Antiochus the great  
And the abhorred Annibal did beat:  
But a stout crew of rustic Comrades,  
Skilled to dig up the clods with Sabine spades,  
And to bear home their timber hewed down  
By their austere mother's direction;  
At such time as the Sun the shades did alter  
Upon the kills, and did the yokes unhalter  
From the roiled oxen, making to approach  
Nights, pleasing time with his declining coach.  
" What does not wasteful time bring to worse pass?  
" Our father's age, worse than our grandsires was,  
" Bred us far wickeder, who, by and by,  
" Shall show a far more vicious progeny.   

ODE VII. TO ASTERIE. Comforting her in the absence of her husband, and exhorting her to constancy.  
WHy dost thou weep for him, Astorie,  
Whom the mild west-winds will restore to thee,  
By the Springs coming in, with Thine aware breast,  
Thy young man Gyges of a loyal breast?  
To Oricus he by the Southwinds borne  
After the raging stars of Capricorn,  
The freezing nights, not without many tears,  
Yet without any sleep, away he wears.  
And yet a much-enticing harlot's squire,  
Telling how Chloë does in sighs expire,  
And how poor wretch she in thy fires doth fry,  
The cunning knave a thousand ways does try.  
He tells how a perfidious woman trained  
Credulous Praetus with suggestions feigned,  
Against the over-chaste Bellerophon,  
To haste his death: then he proceedeth on,  
How Peleus was nigh sent to death, while he  
Magnessian Hippolyte did flee,  
Being abstinent: and this sly knave brings in  
Histories educating men to sin.  
But all in vain: for he, as yet sincere,  
More the afe than Icarus rocks his words does hear;  
Yet take thou heed lest, more than fit may be,  
●ripeus thy near neighbour work on thee.  
Though not a man, equally skilled to ●ide  
Upon a horse, in Mars his field is spied,  
No any man, equally swift like h●m,  
thorough the Tuscan channel down does swim.  
At the night's entrance sh●t thy doors, nor gaze,  
At his pipes sad sound, into the high ways;  
And unto him calling thee oft unkind,  
Continue thou of an unshaken mind.   

ODE VIII. TO MAECENAS. Exhorting him to mirth on the Calends of March.  
THou being skilled in both tongue's dialect,  
Admirest what I a bachelor project  
On Marches Calends; what my flowers require,  
And pot with incense filled, and coal of fire  
Laid on the fresh green turf; pomise I did  
Sweet cates to Bacchus, and a milk-white kid;  
Being near killed with a trees fall: This day  
Sacred each New-year's tide, shall take away  
The pitch-closed stoppel from the kilderkin  
Ordained to keep the heady liquor in,  
When Tullus Consul was. Maecenas taste  
A hundred healths of thy saved friend, and waste  
Thy watching tapers till the break of day;  
All quarrelling and rage be far away.  
Thy strict cares for the city let alone:  
Slain are the troops of Dacian Cotison;  
The Median, to himself a deadly so,  
With woeful wars does all to pieces god.  
Our ancient foe upon the shore of Spain,  
The Biscaynere tamed in our lare-forged chain,  
Is slave to us; the Scythians do dispose  
To fly out of the field with unbent bows.  
Then, in a remiss way, desist to heed,  
O'er much, of what the people stands in need,  
(Being retired) and of the present hour  
Receive the pleasures, and cast off the sour.   

ODE IX. TO LYDIA. A dialogue for reconcilement.  HOR. 
AS long as I was pleasing unto thee,  
And not a man, better esteemed than me,  
His arms about thy ivory neck did fling,  
I flourished braver than the Persian King.  LYD. 
While with another thou wast not more fired,  
Nor Lydia after Chloë was desired;  
I Lydia of great fame did bear a sway,  
Far brighter than the Roman Ilia.  HOR. 
The Thracian Chloë does command me now,  
Skilled in sweet songs, and well her Lute does know,  
For whom to suffer death I will not fear,  
So fates will her surviving soul for bear.  LYD. 
●alais, Thurine Ornithus his son,  
●n flames me with a like affection;  
For whom I will endure even twice to die,  
●f fates will my surviving boy pass by.  HOR. 
What if our ancient love return again,  
And binds us stragglers in a brazen chain;  
●f beauteous Chloè be cashiered away,  
And door stands  for castof Lydia?  LYD. 
Although that he be brighter than a star,  
Thou lighter than a cork, and fiercer far  
Than the rude Adriatic sea; yet I  
Would love to live with thee, would freely die.   

ODE X. TO LYCE. Exhorting her not to be proud, but pitiful to him.  
LICE, didst thou at utmost Tanais live,  
Wed to a savage man, yet would you grieve  
To cast me to your neighbouring northern wind,  
Being before your frozen doors reclined.  
Hear you with what a creaking noise the door,  
And how the grove against the wind does roar,  
Being planted 'mong the pleasant rooms; and how  
●ove with pure air does glaze the close laid snow?  
Thy scorn ingrate to Venus, lay aside;  
Lest the rope, when the wheel slips, backward slide.  
A Tyrrhene father never begot thee  
Harsh to thy wooers as Penelope.  
O, though nor gifts, not prayers move thee yet,  
Not lovers palen●ssest●in'd with violet,  
Not husband d●ting on some singing maid,  
Yet spare them which to thee are prostrate laid,  
Thou harsher than the toughest oaken tree,  
And bloudier-souled than Aff●ick Serpent's be;  
This body ' of mine for ever can't sustain  
Thepavement, and the heaven-distilling rain.   

ODE XI. TO MERCURY. Entreating him to mollify Lyde with his sweet music; as h● hath done many others: Of the punishment of the Danaides, and the praise of Hype●mnestra.  
MERCURY (for thou being his schoolmaster,  
Learned Amphson did the stones uprea●e,  
With making melody,) and thou O Lute,  
Skilled with seven s●rings to sound (in old times mute,  
And no whit pleasing; at each rich-man's board  
And temples too, now used,) such strains afford,  
Unto which Lyde her deaf cares may raise;  
Who, as it were, in frisking manner plays  
Like a mare three years old in the wide field,  
And being in the marriage bed unskilled,  
And for a full-veind bedfellow unfit,  
Is fearful even to be touched as yet.  
Thou Tigers, and their woods canst lead away  
Along with them, and make swift ●ivers stay:  
Cerberus porter of the dreadful hall,  
Unto thee making music low did fall,  
Though hundred snakes did guard his furious head,  
And loathsome breath and poison issued  
Out of his three tongued chaps. Ixion too,  
And Tityus with forced looks did smile on you;  
The urn awhile stood dry, while thou didst ease  
With pleasing music the Danaides.  
Those maid's fact, and known torture, and their run,  
Empty of water out at bottom run,  
Let Lyde hear, and the flow-creeping fate  
That ey'n in hell on wickedness doth wait.  
Accursed things: what could they do more? they,  
Accursed, with sharp swords-could their husbands slay.  
'Mongst many, one worthy a nuptial fire,  
To her false father nobly played the liar,  
And to all ages lives a glorious maid;  
Who, Rise, rise, to her youthful husband said,  
Lest a long sleep, thou fearest not, fall on thee,  
Thy father in law, and my cursed sisters flee.  
Who (out alas) have all their husbands slain,  
Like Lionesses having heifers ta'en;  
I, gentler far than they, will neither kill,  
Nor in this castle will detain thee still.  
Me with strong fetters let my father guard,  
'Cause I kind heart my woeful husband spased;  
Or let him in a ship send me away  
To th'utmost confines of Numidia;  
Fly what way feet and winds can carry thee,  
While night and Venus too propitious be;  
Go with good luck, and on my monument  
An elegy, mentioning me, indent.   

ODE XII. TO NEOBULE. Of her violent love of Hebrus.  
NOt to give love his sportive exercise,  
Nor drench in pleasing wine our miseries;  
Or to be out of heart, fearing the blows  
Of Kindred's tongues, adds to poor virgin's woes.  
Venus' winged son thy spindle from thee catches,  
And Liparaean Hebrus beauty snatches  
(O Neobule) thy tent-workes from thee,  
And curious Minerva's industry:  
A better horseman than Bellerophon,  
Neither in fight, or for slow pace o'er gone,  
As soon as he in Tiber's streams hath swilled  
His oily shoulders; being also skilled,  
When all the herd is routed up, to wound  
The Roe-bucks tripping o'er the champain ground;  
And swift of foot the wild Boar to invade  
Among the thick-grown bushes closely laid.   

ODE XIII. The praise of the fountain of Blandusia.  
OFountaine of Blandusia, that dost shine  
Clearer than glass, deserving pleasant wine,  
Nor without store of flowers, thou with a kid  
Tomorrow morning shalt be honoured;  
Whose forehead, with his first horns fretted out,  
For lust and war (in vain tho) hunts about.  
For this same youngling of the wanton train,  
Thy cooling streams with his red blood shall stain.  
Thee the hot dog stars dire ti●●e cannot taint:  
Thou gentle cooling yield'st to oxen faint  
With ●lowing, and to stray beasts: verily  
Thou shalt be made a sacred spring, while I  
The oaks set round thy hollow rocks will sing,  
Out of the which thy murmuring waters spring.   

ODE XIV. His joy for Caesar's victory.  
YE people, Caesar who was lately thought  
To go for conquest, would with death be bought,  
In Hercules his way; from coast of Spain  
Is to our gods come conquer our again.  
Each matron, with one husband being content,  
Let now proceed the just gods to frequent;  
And sister of our famous General,  
And, with their braided fillets decked, all  
The mothers of our virgins, and young men  
Lately returned safe to us again.  
You youths, and maids that late have husbands tried,  
Forbear all languages unrectified.  
This day, being truly festival, shall tear  
My black cares from me: I will neither fear  
Commotions, or to die by violent hand,  
So long as Caesar governeth the land.  
Go boy, fetch oil and garlands, and that barrel  
Which bears the true date of the Marsian quarrel,  
If so be any vessel could be hid  
From Spartacus having the land o're-rid.  
And bid sweet-voiced Neara to make haste  
To bind her sweet hairs in a knot up fast;  
If by the surly porter any stay  
Be made at all, come presently away.  
" Hair turning to be white does calm the mind  
" To quarrelings and paltry brawls inclined:  
For I would ne'er have suffered this, alas,  
In heat of youth, when Planous Consul was.   

ODE XV. TO CHLORIS. To for sake lechery, being old.  
WIfe of poor Ibyous, now at length fix  
A period to thy lust, and whorish tricks.  
Forbear, being nigh thy now-ripe funeral day,  
Tosport'mong virgins, and a cloud display  
O'er such-bright stars: that will not become thee,  
O Chloris, that may well fit Pholoe.  
Thy daughter better young men's doors may threat,  
Mad as the Thyades when the drums beat.  
Nothus love makes her like a fond kid play;  
Thee, the wool shorn nearefamed Luceria,  
●ot music fits, nor roses damask die.  
●●●ing old●) nor hogsheads to the lees drawn dry.   

ODE XVI. TO MAECENAS. Of the power and trouble of riches: the benefit of contentation.  
A Brazen tower, and strong gates, and stern guard  
Of watchful curs, sufficiently had barred  
Danae in it from night-lecher, locked;  
If jupiter and Venus had not mocked  
The keeper of the virgin so enclosed,  
(Fearful Acrisius) for they supposed,  
The entrance in would sat and open be,  
When that a god was turned into a fee.  
" Gold uses through full guards to go, more fierce  
" Than thunderbolts, and through stone walls to pierce●  
The Argive auguries palace down is shrunk,  
Being for gain into perdition sunk.  
The Macedonian victor clavae in two  
The gates of cities; and he overthrew  
His rival Kings with presents:" presents snare  
" Those who stout Generals of navies are.  
" Care waits on growing wealch, and thirst of more.  
I very worthily did fear therefore  
(Macenas, glory of our Cheval ie)  
To raise my head up, to be seen on high.  
" The more each man bars himself of, he shall  
" Of the gods get the more: I, stripped of all,]  
Unto their cells that nothing covethye,  
And shifting seek from rich men's gates to fly;  
Being of a mean estate a braver Lord,  
Than if I in my barns were famed to hoard  
What ere the toiled Appulian does blow o'●e,  
Bei'ng amids my mighty riches poor.  
A spring of water pure, and a grove too  
Of some few Rods, and my fields servicetrues  
More blessed in possessing, is unknown  
To him that shines in fertile Africa's throne.  
Though nor Portuguese Bees me honey bring  
Nor wine for me does lie a languishing  
In Formian pots, nor my fat-fleeced flock  
〈◊〉  pastures does increase my stock;  
Yet urgent poverty from me does live,  
Nor, craved I more, would you deny to give.  
My desire being penned in, I better may  
Enlarge my final means, than if I should lay  
Croesu his wealth to the Mygdonian store:  
‛ Much wants to them that many things implore.  
'Tis well for that man to whom God has sent,  
‛ With sparing hand, what is sufficient.   

ODE XVII. TO AELIUS LAMIA'S. His nobility; an exhortation to be merry.  
O Aelius from ancient Lamus famed,  
(Whence the first Lamiaes, they say, were named,  
And every house of your posterity,  
Through all records yet kept in memo ie.)  
Thou from that head drawest thy original,  
Who, being a King of large bounds, first of all  
Is said the walls of For●iae to command,  
And Lyris flowing on Marica's sand.  
●●●mpest sent tomorrow from the West  
●●ch many boughs s●all all the grove invest,  
And all the shore with useless flags, unless  
The weather wise old Raven miss his guess.  
While you may, your dry wood together put;  
Your corpse tomorrow you with wine must glut,  
And with a porkling just of two months old,  
With all thy men from labour bid to hold.   

ODE XVIII. A prayer and sacrifice to Faunus.  
LOver of flying Nymphs, pass gently through  
My bounds, O Faunus, and my fair fields too,  
And part thence kind to our small nurseries;  
Since each year's end, a young kid to thee dies,  
And store of wine's not wanting to the cup,  
Venus' compeer; th'old altar fumeth up  
With many odours: on the grassy plain  
All the beasts sport, when unto thee again  
December's Nones return: the solemn town  
In the fields with their idle droves sit down.  
Among the then bold lambs the wolf does go,  
The wood her country boughs to thee does strew,  
The country man does with his feet delight  
Three times upon the scorned ground to smite.   

ODE XIX. TO TELEPHUS. Not to study too much, but to be merry sometimes.  
HOw long time Codrus lived from Inachus,  
To die for's country no way timorous,  
And Aeacus his stock you do us tell,  
And battles that at sacred Troy befell.  
You tell us not at what price we may get  
A Tun of Chian wine, nor who may heat  
Our baths with fire; who'll make a feast for me;  
What hour I may from Peligne colds be free.  
Boy, quickly fill for the new Moon; fill up  
For midnight; for Muraena fill a cup,  
Late Augur made: with glasses three or nine,  
Easy to take, let pots be filled with wine.  
The Poet that loves the Muse's odd, will crave  
Thrice three cups, being in a vein to rave.  
The naked sister-Graces yoked fast,  
Fearing wars, charge no more than three to taste.  
Why is the Berecynthian pipes tongue mute?  
Why hangs the Fife up with the silent Lute?  
I hate these sparing hands: strew roses there,  
Let envious Lycus our loud roaring hair,  
And his young mate no way commodious  
For Lycus being old: O Telephus  
Thee comely-looking with thy thick grown hair,  
Thee representing much the evening fair,  
〈◊〉 now ripe for marriage doth require,  
But me my Glyceraes slow love doth fire.   

ODE XX. TO PYRRHUS. His danger in drawing Nearchus from his love.  
SEE you not with what danger you do press  
The whelps of the Gerulian Lioness?  
O Pyrrhus, thou a fearful thief shalt flee  
The dangerous combat, afore long time be.  
When she shall run through armed troops of young men,  
Fetching the fair Nearchus back again;  
A grand contention, sooth, whether the prize  
Unto thyself or her would greater rise.  
In the mean time while you do ready get  
Your flying shafts, and she her dire teeth whet,  
He that might arbitrate the war is said  
The conquest under his bare feet t'have laid,  
And recreate with a mild-fanning ai●e  
His shoulders covered with his powdered hair:  
As beautiful as Nireus, or the Boy  
Was stolen away from river-stored Troy.   

ODE XXI. The praises of wine.  
O Sacred tun that w●st bred up with me,  
When Ma●lius Consul was, whether in the●,  
Thou bea●est griefs, or jests, or quarrelling,  
Or raging loves, or gentle stumbering;  
By what so  name marked thou clasp'st about  
Thy Massick wine, worthy to be brought out  
On a good day; when Corvine shall enjoin,  
Descend and yield us forth your gentler wine.  
Though in Socratic precepts drenched he be,  
Yet will he not severely scorn at thee.  
Even ancient Cat●'s gravity is famed,  
Many a time with wine to have been flamed,  
Thou dost an easy to turing procure  
To dispositions usually obdure,  
With merry wine; the studies of the wise  
Thou dost disclose, and profound secrecies.  
In  minds thou dost a hope renew,  
And giv'st the poor man strength and courage too,  
That, after thee once tasted, neither fears  
Kings angry looks, nor yet the soldier's spears.  
Bacchus, and Venus, if she'll merry be,  
And Graces loath to break their unity,  
And burning lights so long with thee shall stay,  
Till Phoebus' rising chase the stirs away.   

ODE XXII. TO DIANA. He consecrates a Pinetree to her.  
VIrgin, of hills and forests part onesse,  
Who being thrice invoked, dost address  
Thyself unto young women travelling  
In childbirth, and from deaths-doore dost them bring;  
O thou three-formed god desk, let the pine  
Adjoining to my mansion, be thine,  
Which every years end gladly I will strew  
With a Boars blood that sideway aims his blow.   

ODE XXIII. TO PHYDILE. Mean sacrifices from pure hands, are most acceptable to the gods.  
IF, rural Phydile, thou raise on high  
At the new-moon thy reared hands to the sky;  
If thou with incense dost thy Lar bow,  
And with this year's fruit, and a greedy sow;  
Then neither shall thy fruitful vineyard bear  
The noxious southwind; nor thy corn i'th' ea●e  
The barren blasting, not thy younglings sweet  
The dangerous season of the Autumn meet.  
For the devoted sacrifice that's fed  
'Mong oaks and elms on hills with snow o'er spread,  
Or in the Alban fields does fatted lie,  
The high-priests axes with his neck shall dye.  
Nothing at all doth it belong to thee,  
Crowning thy little gods with Rosemary,  
And with frail myrtle-boughs, a stir to keep  
With a great slaughtering of thy young sheep.  
" If a pure hand upon the altar lies,  
" You cannot with a sumptuous sacrifice  
" The displeased household gods more pleased make,  
" Than with your hallowed corn, and salted cake.   

ODE XXIV. Against immoderate riches.  
THough richer than th' Arabians wealth unknownes  
Or of rich India, you with your hewn stone  
The Tyrrhene and the Pontic ocean stock;  
If dire fare on the loftiest crowns does knock  
His Adamantine nails, thy mind from fear,  
Thy head from snares of death thou canst not clear.  
The wand'ring Scythians (whose carriages  
Do bear their travelling tents, as their use is)  
And the stern Getae do far better live,  
Whose unmarked lands free herbs and come 〈◊〉 give,  
Nor tillage more than for a years food pleases,  
And a supply with equal labour eases  
Him that left work last: harmless stepdams there  
Their mother-wanting sons in law for bear:  
Nor does the rich-dowered wife her husband sway,  
Nor for a comely trimmed adulterer stay.  
" The parent's virtues, and their own chaste bearing  
" In a firm league, a second suitor fearing,  
" Is their great dowry; and 'tis a thing abhorred  
" To play foul play, or death is the reward.  
O, whosoever would remove from hence  
Our impious broils, and homebred insolence,  
If he do cover registered to be  
In monuments a Pater Patriae,  
Then let him dare his wild desires to tame,  
Famous to after-ages; since (O shame)  
" We living virtue enviously despise,  
" Admire it being once taken from our eyes.  
What profit does our mournful lamentation,  
If sin be not suppressed by castigation?  
What benefit can cobweb statutes do,  
Not having our obedience thereunto?  
If nor this part o'th' wo●ld girt with hot fire,  
Nor continent unto the northward nigher,  
Nor the snow frozen on the ground deters  
The merchant man? if skilful mariners  
Subdue the raging billows? Poverty,  
A great disgrace, commands us both to tri●  
And suffer any thing, and from the way  
Of hard-to-be-found virtue makes us stray.  
Or let us send unto the Capitol,  
Whether the client's noise and train does call;  
Or let us send into the neighbouring flood  
Our gems, and stones, and gold for no use good,  
The fomenters of our chief misery,  
(If for o●● sin we truly sorry be.)  
The rudiments of our unlawful lust  
Must be pulled out, and minds too render must  
Be framed to tougher acts: the noble youth  
Cannot tell how to back a horse forsooth,  
Boing raw, and feare● to hunt: more skilled to sport  
With the Greek top, if you give preceptfored,  
Or, if you please, at diceby law forbidden,  
At which his father's faith being perjured,  
His fellow gamester and his guest doth cheer,  
And for his worthless heir doth money get:  
Thus ill got goods increase, yet evermore,  
I know not what wants to his curtailed store.   

ODE XXV. TO BACCHUS. That being inspired by him be will sing the praises of Caesar.  
WHither, O Bacchus, dost thou hurry me,  
Being in spired with thy deity?  
To what groves, or what caves am I confined,  
Being astonished in my new wrought mind?  
Out of what cells shall I be heard, forecasting  
Egregious Caesar's glory everlasting  
Among the stars, and court of Jove to set?  
I'll sing a new rare song, never sung yet,  
By any other voice: no otherwise  
The Bacchic priest from sleep amazed lies,  
When from the mountains she doth Hebrus see,  
And Thrace all white with Snow, and Rhodope  
Climbed over by barbarous feet. How I desire,  
The rocks, as I am wand'ring, to admire,  
And silent groves! O King of Naiads,  
And of the Bacchaes that the tall ash rices,  
Can pull put with their hands; No trivial thing,  
Or in a low grown measure will I sing;  
Nothing obnoxious to mortality:  
A dangerous thing it is, yet sweet to me,  
To follow thee god Bacchus, that dost twine  
My temples with the green leaves of the vine.   

ODE XXVI. TO VENUS. A farewell to love-tricks: he prays her to make Chloë love him.  
PLeasing to maids I lived in former days,  
And fought my battles too, not without praise:  
Now shall the wall that is on the left hand  
Of sea-bred Venus, all my arms command,  
And lute weary of wars; here, here dispose  
Your light, artillery, and bars, and bows,  
Which against barred doors did use to threat;  
Queen goddess that rich Cyprus makest thy feat,  
And Memphis ne'er vexed with Sithonian snow,  
Once strike proud Chloen with a heavy blow.   

ODE XXVII. TO GALATAEA. Dehorting her from going to sea by the example of Europa.  
LEt the ill omen of the hooting owl,  
And whelping bitch, and brown wolf that doth prowl  
o'er the Lanuvian fields, and fox with young  
Keep company the wicked crew among:  
And let a snake their resolved journey stay,  
When like an arrow it doth horses fray  
From the hedge side. I, wherefore should I fear,  
Being a provident Astronomer?  
Before the bird presaging imminent rain,  
Shall to the standing pools return again,  
I will invoke from rising of the sun  
The smooth voiced crow to my petition.  
O Galatoea, happy mayst thou be,  
Where thou best lik'st, and mindful still of me;  
And let not the ill-boding pie, nor crow,  
Wand'ring about, prohibit thee to go.  
But do you see with what a blustering blast  
Declining Orion doth stand aghast?  
I know what Adria's cloudy bay portends,  
And wherein the clear westarne wind offends,  
Let the wives and the children of our foes,  
Feel the east-rising Goat's insensat blows,  
And the tempestuous oceans bellowing,  
And seashores shaken with their battering.  
Europa so herivory body threw  
On a delusive bull, and pale she grew  
At th' ocean with monsters covered over,  
And frauds i'th' mids descried, though bold before;  
Late in the meads for flowers being wholly set,  
And the contriver of a coronet  
Vowed to the nymphs, in an obscure night she  
Nothing besides the stars and waves did see.  
Who so soon as to potent Crect she came,  
With hundred towns; O father, O that name  
Disclaimed by me thy child O piety,  
Being over come with fury she did cry.  
Whence, whither am I come? one death's too poor  
For virgin's faults: do I awake deplore  
My fouleoffence? or doth vain fantasy,  
(Which through an ivory portal passing by  
●oth usher in each dream) thus mock at me,  
Being as yet from all offences free?  
Was it to travel through the vast seas rather  
Fit for me, or the fresh flowers to gather?  
If any one would now unto me show  
This odious bull, I being incensed so,  
I'd with a sword in pieces strive to pull,  
And break the horns of that so late loved bull.  
Impudent I my father's court forsaken,  
Impudent I for hell do waiting look;  
O, whatsoever god these plaints does hear,  
Would I'mong I on's wand'ring naked were  
Afore that ugly meagerness shall slain  
My comely checks, or that my moisture drain  
From me that will for a soft prey be put,  
Faice as I am, I tigers wish to glut.  
Wicked Europa, why dost seize to dye?  
Thy absent father thus does on thee cry:  
Thou with thy girdle haply come with thee,  
May'st break thy hanging neck from this ash tree.  
Or if the rocks, or stones for death sharpened fit,  
Do please thee more: go, go, thyself commit  
To a swift ●●orme, unless you more mind have  
To carded your mistress wool, and as a slave  
To be confined to some barbarous dame,  
Thou being of royal blood: To her than came  
False-suiling Venus (while she did lament)  
And her son also, with his bow unbent:  
Anon, when she sufficiently had played,  
For bear thy wrath and thy hot rage, she said;  
Since that this heifer being by thee hated,  
Shall yield his horns to be dilacerated.  
To be the wife of unquelled ●upiter,  
Know'st thou not how? these sobbings then for be are:  
Thyself to bear thy great fare bravely frame;  
The world divided shall retain thy name.   

ODE XXVIII. TO LYDE. That she should celebrate Neptune's feast with him.  
DRaw lustic Lyde, thy hid Caecube wine,  
And 'gainst abstemious wisdom force combine;  
What else on Neptune's holiday shall I do?  
You see the noontide hastens on, yet you,  
As if the swift day stayed, spare to draw dry  
Your barrel from your cellar, ha'ving lain by  
Since Bibulus consul was: with altern share  
We Neptune will extol, and the green hair  
Of the sea-nymphs: thou to thy crooked lute  
Latona, and swift Cynthia's darts shalt suit.  
In our songs burden we will her express  
That Cuidus rules, and the bright Cyclades,  
And Paphos with her yoked swans doth view;  
The night with fit lays shall be praised too.   

ODE XXIX. TO MAECENAS. He invites him to a mean feast, which he hopes will give him content. That mortals should not trouble themselves with the times to come. His contempt of fortune's power.  
MAEcenas sprung from Tyrrhene kings, for thee  
There hath been gentle wine long time with me  
In a tun ne'er before now turned about,  
With rosebuds, oil too for thy hair's pressed out.  
Withdraw thyself from all occasion,  
Nor do thou still moist Tibur gaze upon,  
And fields of Aesula declivious,  
And hills of particide Tellegonus.  
Thy loathsome plenty at the length for bear,  
And palace to the waving clouds son●a●e:  
Do thou forbear to wonder at the fume,  
And wealth, and tumult of enriched Rome.  
" Enter change ofttimes please rich men well;  
" And poor men's homely fare in a low cell,  
" Have made the clouded for head smooth to lie,  
" Without your Arrass, and purple die.  
Now does Andromeda's translucent sire  
Display unto us his long hidden fire;  
Now protion raves, and the mad lions star,  
While the sun brings the parching days from far.  
The weary shepherd with his fainting drove,  
Now seeks the shades, the river, and the grove  
Of Sylvane rude; and from the wand'ring wind  
The silent bank is free: Thou yet dost mind  
What state may fit the city, and dost fear  
(Being careful for thy country) what the Sere  
And Bactrians which by Cyrus governed are,  
And mutinizing Tanais do prepare.  
" Provident God in a black cloud doth hide  
" Th'event of future things, and doth deride  
" If mortal man farther than's fitting goes;  
" Mind thou what's present calmly to compose:  
Other things like the river on are driven,  
Now i'th' mid channel gently gliding even,  
To the Etrurian ocean, and anon  
The eaten rocks, and rend trees driving on,  
And beasts, and tents, with roating of the hills,  
And neighbouring woods, when the fierce deluge fills  
The quiet streams:" O'er himself bearing sway,  
" And merry shall he live, that thus can say,  
" I to this day have lived; let Jove o'errun  
" Or with a black cloud, or a bright-raid sun  
" All heaven to morrow, yet what once is passed  
" He never shall make void, nor ere uncast,  
" Or make that thing of no validity,  
" Which once the posting hour hath carried by.  
Fortune unto her cruel work intent,  
And to show her vain glorious sport bent,  
Her flitting honours up and down doth wind,  
Now to myself, now to another kind:  
I praise her being constant; if she shake  
Her swift wings, what she gave me, I forsake;  
And me in my integrity do save,  
And honest poverty without dowry crave.  
'Tis nought to me, when the mainmast doth crack  
With northern winds, to my poor prayers to pack,  
And covenant with promises, for fear  
The Cyprian and Tyrian ships should bear  
My wealth unto the avaricious flood:  
Then with help of a two-oard trough of wood,  
The wind and Pollux twins shall bear me hence,  
Safe thorough the Aegaean insolence.   

ODE XXX. That he is immortalised by his poems, better than by statues and Pyramids.  
A Monument more durable than brass,  
And higher than the princely structure was  
Of the Pyramids, I have set forth;  
Which neither eating storm, nor raging north,  
Or the unnumbered rank of many a year  
And revolutions of times can wear.  
I shall not die all, and some part of me  
Shall from the funeral Goddess power be free,  
I fresh with after praise a●lory, shall grow,  
As with the silent Nun the Priest shall go  
Unto the Capitol: I shall be ren●●nd  
What way the violent Aufid●● doth sound,  
And what way Daunus, being of water scant,  
Is over the country rout p●t dominant;  
That I from feeble rising being strong,  
Did first of a I bring down the Grecian song  
To the Italian measures: then inherit:  
A stateliness acquired by thy merit:  
And thou, Melpomene, my temples tie  
About with Delphic laurel willingly.   
The end of the third Book of the Odes of Horace.   

THE FOURTH BOOK of the Odes of HORACE.  

ODE I. A complaint that Venus hath made him a lover again: he dotes upon Ligurinus, and desires Venus to forsake him, and go to the house of Paulus Maximus.  
O Venus intermitted many a day;  
Dost thou again wage wars? spare, spare, I pray.  
I am not now as I before did stand  
Under my lovely Cyaaraes' Command.  
Spare, cruel mother of all-plessing love,  
A man 'bout fifty years of age to move,  
Now hardened to thy soft commandments. go,  
Where young men's pleasing prayers do thee woe,  
In Paulus Maximus his palace you,  
Being winged with Cygnets of a purple hue,  
More opportunely may together feast,  
If you delight to fire a fitting breast.  
For he, being both noble and complete,  
And for poor souls condemned, ne'er silent yet,  
And a youth of a hundred tricks beside,  
Shall spread the ensigns of thy war full wide.  
And when he shall triumph, being of more power  
Than the lare gifts or his competitour,  
Near to the Alban springs he'll setup thee  
All marble, underue the Cition tree.  
There with thy nose thou shalt draw much sweet smell,  
And there thou shalt be pleased very well  
With intermixed music of the late.  
And Bear cynthian pipe and with the flute.  
There youths with tender virgins twice a day,  
While that they do thy deity display,  
According as is now the Satians guise,  
With their clean feet thrice on the ground shall rise.  
Me neither woman now, nor boy doth move,  
Nor a too credulous hope of mutual love;  
Nor doth it please me to contend with wine,  
Nor with fresh flowers my temples round to twine.  
But why, O Ligurinus, why alas  
Do my rare seen tears o'er my cheeks thus pass?  
Wherefore in silence, no way fit at all,  
Amids my words does my smooth tongue thus fall?  
Now close-clinged in my nightly dreams I woo thee,  
Now through the grass of Mars fie field pursue thee  
So swift of foot, and cruell-hearred thee  
Among the streams that ever moving he.   

ODE II. TO ANTONIUS JULUS. The praise of Pindarus, with the extenuation of himself and therefore desires julus himself to sing of Caesan victories.  
WHocuer strives to equal Pindarus,  
(Julus) by the art of Daedalus,  
With pinions waxed unto him, doth frame  
To give the glassy ocean a byname.  
Like to a Current running down a hill,  
Which storms above his noted banks did fill,  
So rages Pindarus, and rowles along,  
Unfathomed in his profoundest tongue;  
Fit to be crowned with Apollo's bays,  
Whether he tumbles forth his new made lays  
In daring dithyrambs, and ca●…ed be  
In numbers from authority set free.  
Whether that he of God, or kings doth tell,  
(The seed of Gods) by whom the Centaurs fell  
With a deserved destruction, and the fire  
Of terrible Chimaera did expire:  
Or whom th' Elean victory home brings,  
Being deifi'de, or of the champion sings,  
Or of his horse, and with a gift worth  
Than hundred ensigns, highly sets him forth;  
Or wails some young man from his sad wife ta'en,  
And then his courage and his heart again,  
And golden constitutions to the skies  
Raises aloft, and sooty hell envies.  
Much air doth the Dircaean swan up-raise,  
When, Antony, it to the clouds high ways  
Doth soar aloft; I in the quality,  
And the condition of a Matine be,  
Gathering pleasant honey with much toil,  
About the wood and watery tybur's soil,  
Do warble out, being of slender vein.  
My melodies of a laborious strain.  
Thou poet, on an in instrument more shrill  
Shalt Caesar praise, when o'er the sacred hill,  
With his deserved laurel honoured,  
He shall the stern Sicambri forward lead:  
Than whom the fates and the good deities  
Have given the earth no more, nor greater prize;  
Nor ever shall give, though our times unfold  
Themselves again into the ancient gold.  
The jovial festivals, and public sport  
Of the whose city too thou shalt report,  
And every court from causes cleared out  
For the obtained return of Caesar stout.  
Then (if ●ought worth hearing shall begin)  
A good part of my voice too shall come in,  
And, O bright Sun, O worthy praise, He strain,  
Happy that Caesar is come home again.  
And all our city while he marcheth by  
Not once alone will lon triumph cry,  
O lon triumph, and will sacrifice  
Incense unto the gracious deities.  
Ten oxen, and as many heifers, thee,  
A tender calf me of my vow shall free,  
Whose dam was late forsocke, which for my vows  
In spacious meadows, yet more sportive grows;  
The horned fires, upon his forehead showing  
Of Luna her third change again renewing,  
Where he has got a mark, white to be spied,  
Being yellow in all other parts beside.   

ODE TWO TO MELPOMENE. Whosover she looks upon with mild aspect at his nativity be becomes a rare Poet. And that he hath gotten credit by poetry.  
WHom thou Melpomene but once shalt spy  
Being near his birth, with a delighted eye;  
Him neither Isthmian labour up shalt life  
To be a champion; nor the horses swift  
In an Achaick chariot bring from fare,  
Being a victor, nor affairs of war  
Bring to the Capitol a captain dressed  
With Delian bays, because he hath suppressed  
King's swelling threatenings: but the stream that moves  
In fertile Tybur, and thick leaves of groves,  
Shall make him famous in Aeolian ditties:  
●en so the youth of Rome the queen of cities,  
Daignes me 'mong poets pleasing troops to knit,  
And now with envious teeth I less am bit.  
O thou my muse, that of the golden lyre  
Dost ever temper the harmonious choir!  
O thou that on mure fishes canst bestow  
The singing of the sw●n, if't please thee so!  
It only is thy bounteousness, that I  
Am marked with fingers of the passers by,  
The Roman lutes musician that I breath,  
And please (if yet I please) thou dost bequeath.   

ODE FOUR The conquests of Drusus Nero: some valiant acts of Claudius Nero, with the fortitude and success of the Romans, in the battles against Annibal and Asdrubal.  
LIke to the bird the thunder's harbinger,  
(Upon whom love, the god's king did confer  
The reign o'er wand'ring fowls, experienced  
That he was true, 'bout beauteous Ganymed)  
Whose youth long since, and his fires courage pressed,  
Unskilful then of labour, from his nest;  
And the spring winds (tempests being now blown o'er)  
Taught him (yet trembling) flights unused before.  
His lively valiantness did by and by  
'Gainst folds of sheep send him an enemy;  
Then love of food and fight did anon  
Against resisting dragone what him on.  
Or like unto the lion being bear  
From the milk of his yellow haired dams tear,  
The kid intent on the sweet fields did see,  
That straightway to●● with his young teeth must be:  
The Rhoetis and the Vandals saw afar  
Drusus about the Alps maintaining war,  
Whose custom how derived from all ages;  
Their hands with Amazonian axes gauges,  
I have deferred to inquire of yet,  
(Nor is it, to know all things, a thing fit.)  
But their hands long ●icto ios, and f●ll wide,  
By our young captains counsel tamed, have tried  
What wisdom, what an ingenuity,  
Well fostered in a happy family,  
And what Augustus fatherly care ●o●.  
Upon the nero's, being youths, could do.  
" Strong things are bred of strong, and the fires forces,  
" Are in the lovely heifers, are in horses;  
" Nor do strong eagles the weak dove beget,  
" But learning do● the in bred goodness whet,  
" And right instructions make the soul more strong;  
" When manners fail, sins do good natures wrong.  
What thou, O Rome, dost to the nero's own,  
Metaurus flood and Asdruhall cast low,  
Are witness of, and that refulgent day  
To Italy, when clouds were chased away;  
Which first in glorious victory did pride,  
When as the fatal African did ride  
Our Roman cities over, as fire through wood,  
o'er the West wind through the Sicilian flood.  
After this time, with prosperous success  
The Roman youth did evermore increase,  
Our temples had their gods anew erected,  
Late by the Poem's impious bonds dejected.  
Then faithless An●ibal at length did say,  
We Deers to ravening wolves being made a prey,  
Pursue them of ourselves, from whom to flee,  
And scape from, is a glorious victory.  
The valiant nation which from fired Troy,  
Tossed on the T●s●an ocean, did convoy  
Their sacred orders, and their progeny,  
And aged fire, to towns of Italy,  
Like to the oak with hard-edged axes peeled,  
In Algidum with shady branches filled,  
Through damages, through slaughters doth afford  
Glory and courage from the very sword.  
Hydra with h●wn corpses did not more increase  
'Gainst grieving to-be-conquerd Hercules,  
Colchos, nor Thebes yet by Echion builded,  
A greater wonderment have ever yielded.  
In the sea drown it, it will rise more glorious;  
Wrestle, 'twill cast the conqueror victorious  
With wondrous credit, and will wars maintain,  
Fit to be sung of by their wives again.  
Now unto Carthage I no more will post  
My lofty messengers: all hope is lost,  
And fortune of our family is dead,  
Ever since Asdiubal was slaughtered.  
The Claudian powers will any thing effect,  
Which Jove doth with his gracious power protect,  
And consultations searching very fare  
Do carry through the very brunts of war.   

ODE V A prayer for Augustus return home, as being the health as safety of his people.  
BEst guardian of the stock of Romulus,  
Sprung from blessed Gods, th' art now too long fort  
Return thou, having promised quick resort  
Unto our Senators most sacred court.  
Dear governor, light to thy country bring;  
For when thy look smiles on us, like the spring,  
The day more pleasingly doth then decline,  
And suns upon thy people brighter shine.  
As doth a mother call for her young son  
With vows, presages, and petition,  
Whom the southwind with envious blast doth stay  
Beyond the floods of the Carpathian bay,  
From his dear home staying more than a years space,  
Nor from the crooked shores doth turn her face:  
Just so our country Caesar back requires,  
Being all stricken with sincere desires.  
For now the ox treads safely o'er the fields,  
Ceres and sweet good luck our country shields,  
The sailor ●ore the quiet seas do fly,  
True loye feare● to be vexed with jealousy.  
The chaste house with no lecherie's defamed  
Good life and law that spotted sin has tamed  
Young folk with children like themselves are blessed,  
Attending torture hath that sin suppressed.  
Who will the Parthian, who could Scythian dread,  
Or who the brood rude Germany hath bred,  
While Caesar is entire to us? who'll weigh  
The wars of terrible Iberia?  
●ach man in his own hills the day doth spend,  
●nd to the widowed trees his vine doth bend;  
●hence very jocund to his wine doth hie,  
●nd at next health makes thee his deity.  
●hee with much prayer, thee he seeks with wine  
●owr'd out of bowls and does thy god head join  
●o his house-gods, like Greece that mindful is  
Of Castor, and the mighty Hercules.  
●ayst thou, O dear guide, to Hespe●ia bring  
●ong festivals; thus we all day do sing,  
Dry in the morning; thus we sing being drunk,  
When that the sun is in the Ocean sunk.   

ODE VI Asecular song to Apollo and Diana.  
THou god whom all the Niobean kind  
The scourge of her imperious tongue did find,  
And lustful Tityus, and the Phthian boy,  
Achilles well-nigh victor of great Troy,  
Than all the rest a greater champion,  
Yet weak to thee, though marine Thetis son,  
Though he victorious with his dreadful spear,  
Did the Dardanian palaces down tear.  
He like a pine with the sharp axe cu● down,  
Or like a Cypress with the West-wind blown;  
Did fall down prostrate all along, and thrust  
His very neck beneath the Trojan dust.  
Th'ill-well eased Trojans he'd not have destroyed  
And Priam's court with dances overjoyed,  
Not being at all within that horse remaining,  
A sacrifice unto Minerva feigning:  
But (O abhorred, O) openly dire  
Unto his captives, would with Grecian fire  
Children that ne'er knew how to speak, consume,  
And those yet resting in the mother's womb:  
If the god's father, being by the prayer  
Of thee ore-ruled and of Venus' fair,  
Had not permitted to Aencas state  
Walls reared up with a far better fare.  
Luce-master Phoebus to Thalia shrill,  
That dost thy hal●es in yellow Xanthus' swill,  
Smooth-faced Aguieus, O do thou maintain  
The reputation of our Roman strain.  
Phoebus' the soul of verse, Phoebus the art,  
And name of poet did to me impart.  
Ye prime of virgins, and from parents rare  
Ye boys derived, the Delian goddess care,  
That with her bow swift pards and stags doth wound,  
Keep your Greek measures, and my finger's sound,  
Praising Latona's son in a due rite,  
The fire-increasing moon that shines by night;  
In a due sort, to all fruits prosperous,  
And swift to snatch the hastening months from us.  
And when that thou art married, thou shalt say,  
I to the gods a pleasing song did pay,  
When the full age our holy-days had brought;  
In poet Horace measures being taught.   

ODE VII. Of the brevity of life, and the speediness of death.  
THE snow is past, the grass returned is  
Unto the fields, and leaves unto the trees;  
The earth doth change her courses; and the tides,  
Being decreased run low on the bank side.  
The Grace and Nymphs, and her two sisters dure  
To usher in their dances, being bare.  
The year, and hour which hence the sweet day flings,  
Warns thee thou shouldst not hope immortal things.  
Frosts melt with the spring-winds; the summer than  
Thrusts out the spring, and that must perish, when  
Fruit-bearing Autumn doth her store power out;  
And then again stiff Winter comes about.  
Yet the swift moons their he venly wainer can mend:  
When we, where good Aencas is, descend,  
Where wealthy ●●llus, and where Ancus be,  
Then ashes and a very shade ●●e we.  
Who can tell whether that the high gods may  
A morrow add to this last present day?  
All that on your ow●e dea●e soul you bestow,  
Beyond your heirs all-catching grasp shall go.  
When you're once dead, and Minos upon you  
His rare determinations shall show;  
Torquatus, nor your stock, nor eloquence,  
Nor piety shall ere release you thence.  
For nor Diana from infernal night  
The chaste Hippolytus can ere acquit;  
Neither has Theseus' power to break in twain  
From dears Pirithous his Lethien chain.   

ODE VIII. That he can give his friends nothing but poems, which he esteems the best gifts.  
Bowls, and neat brass I'd give (O censorine)  
Being bountiful unto all friend, of mine,  
Tripods, the valiant Greeks reward I'd give,  
Neither shouldst thou my worst of gifts receive.  
If I were furnished with those rarities  
Parrhasius or Scopas did devise  
This skilled in stone; in oily colours he,  
To form a god now, now a deity:  
But I have not such plenyie nor indeed,  
Does your estate or mind such dainties need:  
You verses love; we can give verses yet,  
And on our present can the value set.  
Not marble stones graved with the public strain  
By which the soul and life returns again  
To brave words after death; not flights full fast  
And threats of Annibal behind him cast;  
Not impions Carthage fires more loud proclaim  
The praise of him who having got a name  
From conquered Aftrica, came thence away,  
Than do the poems of Calabria.  
Neither if histories do disregard  
What you do well, shall you receive reward.  
What thing would Ilia's and Mars son be,  
If that repining taciturnity  
Hindered the wouth of Romulus? the sense  
Of potent Bards, their smoothness, eloquence  
Doth consecrate unto the glorious woods  
Aecus taken from the Stygian floods.  
" A Muse won't let a man praise worthy die,  
" A muse in heaven doth him beautify;  
So the untoiled Hercules draws near  
To the desired feasts of jupiter.  
The glorious stars, the twin- Tyndaridae  
Snatch battered ships from forth the oreprest sea:  
Bacchus his temples decked with the green vine,  
Doth bring his wishes to a good design.   

ODE IX. TO LOLLIUS. Of the immortality of poetry, and how many are forgotten for want of the poet's pens. He celebrates Lollius deservings.  
Do not believe those songs can ere be dead,  
Which I, at lowd-noised Aufidus being bred,  
Did warble out, by arts ne'er shown before,  
Upon the viols to be tune over.  
Although Maeonian Homer first place get,  
Pindarus Muses do not lie hid yet,  
Simonidaean, nor Alcaicks fierce,  
No nor Stesichorus his ponderous verse.  
What ere Anacreon did sport about  
In former time, age hath not yet razed out.  
The love yet breathes, and still survive the fire●  
Inspired to the Aeolian virgins lyres.  
The Spartan Helen was not only fired  
With an adulterers smooth locks, and admired  
The gold on's robes laid over and over again,  
And his majestic carriage, and his train;  
Nor Teucer first, in a Cydonian bow  
His arrows shot; Troy more than once felt woe;  
Great Idomene and Sthenelus ne'er fought  
Such combats (only) worthy to be taught  
By Muses; nor did Hector venturous,  
Nor the most violent Deiphobus  
Heavy strokes first of all men undertake  
For their chaste wives, and for their children's sake  
Many brave men 'fore Agamemnon lived,  
But all of them are passed away ungrieved,  
And in an everlasting night unknown,  
Because a sacred poet they have none.  
" Virtue concealed is little different  
" From sluggishness within the grave up-pent:  
O Lollius I will not suffer thee,  
Ungraced, concealed in my lines to be;  
Nor will I let black-toothed oblivion  
Those thy so many labours gnaw upon.  
Thou hast a mind both provident in state,  
And both in prosperous times and adverse strait;  
Punishing griping coz'nage, and abstaining  
From money all things to itself constraining,  
And not being Consul only for one year,  
But while he being a judge good and sincere,  
Chose goodness above gaining, and forsook  
The bribes of guilty men with a brave look,  
And through whole troops of them that stopped his way,  
Conqueror like his ensigns did display.  
" The man that is of many things possessed,  
" You cannot truly term him to be blessed,  
" He better doth the name of blessed enjoy,  
" Who understands how wisely to employ  
" The God's gifts, and hard poverty to bear.  
" And wickedness far worse than death doth fear.  
For his dear friends and for his country he  
To suffer death will never fearful be.   

ODE X. The poet tells Ligurinus, that when the flower of his youth is past, he shall grieve to think he had not that understanding then which now he hath.  
O Thou, yet cruel, and imperious grownei  
By Venus' gifts, when the unhoped down  
Shall steal upon thy pride, and thy hairs shed  
Which now fly over thy shoulders, and thy red  
That's choicer than the damask roses grace,  
Being changed shall turn unto a wrinkled face  
Thee Ligurinus; thou wilt cry (alas)  
(When thou shalt see thee, not thee in thy glass)  
When I was young why had I not this mind?  
Or to these thoughts why not sound cheeks assigned?   

ODE XI. The celebrating of Maecenas birthday, Phyllis must n●t aim too high.  
I Have a tun of Alban wine full-gaged,  
(O Phyllis) that is more than nine years aged,  
And I have parsley in my garden plot  
To make us garlands: I have also got  
I vie great store, wherewith when thou dost twine  
Thy tresses up, thou wondrous bright dost shine.  
With silver all my house doth glister round,  
The Altar with chaste Vervine being bound  
With a slain elambe to be besprinkled joys;  
Every hand now makes haste, girls mixed with boy●●  
Trudge up and down; the flames do blaze about  
From the housetops whirling the thick smoke our.  
But what delights you are invited to,  
That you may understand, these Ideses by you  
Must be solemnised: which every tide  
Does April sea-bred Venus' month divide.  
Solemn indeed, and almost unto me  
●o●e sacred than my own nativiri●.  
Because that my Maecenas from this light  
His years still flowing in to him doth write  
That Telephus, at whom thou dost so aim  
(〈◊〉 young a man not of thy inferior fraime)  
A wench both rich and sportive hath obtained,  
And in a pleasing fetter keeps him chained.  
Burned Phoëton ambitious hopes doth fray,  
And the winged Pegasus doth well display  
A heavy precedent, falling upon  
The earthborn horse-rider Bellerophon,  
That things befitting thee thou shouldst affect,  
And counting it unlawful to expect  
Farther than's meet, from thy superiors move;  
Come then the Ne plus ultra of my love,  
(For never after this time will I be  
In love with other woman) learn with me  
Songs which with thy sweet voice thou mayst express;  
Black cares with melody will soon grow less.   

ODE XII. He inviteth Virgil (conditionally) to a banquet.  
THe Springs companions which the sea do still,  
The Thracian winds do now our ship-sailes fill;  
Now neither meadow's freeze, nor rivers roar,  
With winter snow being forced to swell over.  
The hapless bird, and the eternal shame  
Of the Cecropian Court, her nest doth frame,  
Mournfully sounding Itys, 'cause that she  
Kings barbarous lusts revenged wickedly.  
The keepers of the rich-fleeced sheep do raise  
Unto their reeds in the soft grass their lays,  
And recreate the God to whom the herd  
And shed chills of Arcade are endear.  
These times breed thirst, but if you well on't think,  
Virgil, my wine trod out at Cales to drink,  
Thou crafficker with all our noble youth,  
Must with thy ointments buy my wine forsooth.  
A little oile-gill draws my vessel dry,  
Which now does in Sulpitian cellars lie,  
Rich enough fresh hopes out for us to square,  
And strong to drench the bitterness of care.  
Unto these pleasures if your course you bend,  
Come quickly with thy wares: I don't intent  
Like to some rich man in a full stored house  
To drench thee free from charge with my carouse.  
But put delays of love and gain away,  
And mindful of your funeral, while you may,  
Mingle some short-breathed folly with your reason;  
'Tis pleasing to be foolish in due season.   

ODE XIII. Against old Lice, who would fain seem young.  
LICE, the gods have harkened to my moan,  
Lice, the gods have heard: thou old art grown,  
And yet thou beautiful wilt seem to be.  
And thou dost sport and drink audaciously,  
And after Cupid flow to thee dost seek  
With palsied note; he in the be●ureous cheek  
Of the now freshly coloured Chian wench,  
And throughly skilled in pricksong does entrench.  
For hasty he over the dry oaks fleeth  
And runs from thee, because thy rotten teeth,  
Because that those thy wrinkles, and the snow  
Upon thy head do vitiate thee so.  
Nor Tyrian purples now, nor glistering stones  
'Gan fetch again those times to thee, which once  
The winged day hath very firmly closed  
In memorable registers disposed.  
Wither (alas) now is thy beauty gone,  
Or where thy sweet face, where thy action?  
What hast of her, of her that breathed love,  
Which didst myself from my own self remove?  
A handsome face next after Cynara's,  
And famous too, and full of moving ways:  
But fates gave Cyna'ra few years, keeping thee  
Equal with some old ravens age to be,  
That lusty youths might see with mirth enough,  
Thy taper wasted to a very snuff.   

ODE XIV. Augustus' his glory, and Victories.  
WHat care of Senators or Commoners,  
By statues and recording registers  
Can with full gifts of honour deify  
Thy worths, Augustus, to posterity?  
O thou the chief of Kings which way so   
The Sun the habitable shores doth clear;  
The Vandals, Latian rites, unused to,  
Have lately felt what thou in war couldst do.  
For with thy troops brave Drusus did deface  
More than at one about, an unruly race,  
The Genovese, and Brenni swift of foot,  
And tower's upon the dreadful Asps tops put.  
The elder of the Nero's fought of late  
A dreadful battle, and with prosperous fate  
The savage natured Rhaetians out did fling,  
Plain to be seen in's warlike combating,  
With how great slaughters he put out of breath  
Their lives designed to revell-keeping death.  
As the north (when the troop of Pleiades  
Rendeth the clouds) swells up the raging seas;  
●o swift was he his enemies troops to tyre,  
And spur his foaming horse through midst of fire.  
So is the bull-formed Aufidus rolled out,  
Which runs Apulian Daunus Realms about,  
When it swells up, and on the field new swoon  
Threatens to pour a horrid deluge down.  
As Claudius did with a destructive power  
The armed troops of the Barbarians scour;  
And as he (conquering) van and rear did mow,  
Them without loss o'er all the field did strew:  
While thou thy aids, advice, and gods didst lend;  
For what day th'Alexandrian port did bend  
Humbly unto thee, and set open clear  
Her empty court, from thence the fifteenth year,  
Well-boding fortune did to thee present  
Of the than war most prosperous event;  
And did both praise and wished dignity  
Procure to thy completed Empery.  
The Spaniard not afore then captivate,  
The Mede, the Moor, Scythian runagate  
Admire thee; O thou help assistant come  
To Italy, and its chief city, Rome.  
Nile that conceals the birthplace of his spring,  
And Ister too, and Tig●is ravening,  
The monster-bearing Ocean thee adores,  
That 'bout the world-divided Britain's roars.  
The Land of France that doth not death regard,  
And of Iberia parched very hard;  
Thee the Sicambri that in blood take pride  
Do fawn upon, their arms being laid aside.   

ODE XV. The praises of Augustus' prudent government.  
PHOEBUS rebuked me minding to suit  
battles and conquered Cities to my Lute,  
Lest I should spread unto the Tyrrhene main  
My little sails: Caesar, thy age again  
Did plenteous fruits unto our fields afford,  
And ensigns to our jupiter restored,  
Pulled from the Persians proud posts, and did bar  
Romulus' temple close, being freed from war,  
And brought in a right-governed policy,  
And bridles for our wand'ring liberty,  
And our iniquities did quite subdue,  
And did our ancient arts again renew;  
By which again sprung up our Roman name,  
And our Italian forces, and the fame  
And glory of our Empery forth spread  
To the Suns rising from his western bed.  
While Caesar is the guardian of our state  
Not civil rage or power our rest shall bate;  
Not indignation which swords doth whet,  
And wretched cities doth at discord set.  
Those who at deep Danubius do drink,  
Shall not the Julian edicts  unlink;  
Not Geteses, nor Seres, nor Persians infidel  
Nor those who near the river Tana is dwell.  
And we on working days, and holy tides,  
Amids blithe Bacchus' bowls, with sons and brides,  
First to the god in right sort having prayed,  
Of gen'ralls long since valorously decayed,  
(As our forefather's manner was to do)  
And of Troy also, and Anchises too,  
And beauteous Venus' progeny will sing  
With songs to Lydian music answering,  
The end of the fourth Book of the Odes of Horace.    

THE EPODES of HORACE.  

EPODE I. Horace desires to go with Maecenas to war.  

THou, friend Maecenas, on Liburnians necks  
Will't go unto the ships high decks;  
Being prepared to undertake alone  
All Caesar's peril as thy own.  
And what then shall I do,  
To whom, so long as you  
Do still survive, my life is pleasing,  
But if contrary, 'tis diseasing?   

Shall we, being bid, embrace security,  
Not sweet, unless it be with thee?  
Or undergo this labour with that spirit,  
As befits brave men to bear it?  
And the Alps-hills clean through  
With stout mind follow you,  
And Caucasus by none possessed,  
And utmost confines of the West?   

You'll ask how with my pains I can ease your,  
Being feeble and unsure;  
Being with you I shall be in fear much less,  
That does the absent most oppress.  
As the bird sitting o●●  
Her unfledged young, does more  
When they're alone, the snakes twines fear,  
Not that she could help, were she there.   

These and all enterprises, we will prove,  
Freely, in hope to gain your love.  
Not that my ploughs, being made fast unto  
My many teems, much work may do;  
Or that my cattles may  
From Lucan pastures stray  
To the Calabrians situation,  
Before the fiery constellation.   

Nor that my upland Tusculums hot bower  
May reach as far as Circestower:  
Sufficiently has thy benignity,  
And too much enriched me;  
I will not crave that, like  
Some greedy-griping tike  
I in the earth may deep inhume,  
Or like some riotous spark consume.    

EPODE II. The prases of the courtrie life.  
Blessed is the man, who, free from molestation,  
(As were the mortals ancient nation)  
With his own oxen tills his country ground,  
From all usury unbound;  
Nor, soldier like, with shrill alarms is raised,  
Nor at the angry sea's amazed;  
And flies the courts of law, and the proud gates  
Of Citizens of great estates.  
Then either with the fruitful stems of vines,  
He the tall poplar trees conjoins,  
And, with his knife cutting the waste boughs out,  
Graft in better roundabout;  
Or tendeth on his oxens grazing drove,  
In a close retired grove,  
Or his pressed nonny tuns in vessels clear,  
Or his sweltered sheep doth shear;  
Or when the Autumn o'er the fields doth spread  
With ripened fruit his comely head,  
How blithe is he his grafted trees divesting,  
And grapes with purple die contesting.  
Wherewith, Priapus, he may thee reward,  
And thee, Sire Sylvane, his lands guard.  
Now under some old oak he loves to lie,  
Upon the long grass by and by:  
Mean while the streams along their high banks spring,  
The birds do in the forest sing;  
The Springs with flowing drops a whispering keep;  
Which may call in gentle sleep.  
But when the thundering Inpiters' cold tide  
Does the storms and snow provide,  
With many dogs he here and there besets  
The fierce Boars 'gainst the toiling nets;  
Or on his smooth hook hangs his slender snares,  
Gins for the devouring Stairs;  
Or else the fearful Hares about pursues,  
Or Crane a stranger to our noose;  
(Delightful sports! who amids these will not  
Forget the sad cares love has got?)  
But if the chaste wife, for her part, doth cheer  
Her family and children dear;  
(Like to the Sabine or the sunburned bride  
Of the Apulian swift to ride)  
Does with old wood a sacred fire begin  
'Gainst her toiled husbands coming in;  
And in closed pens shutting her fair ewes by,  
Milks their full-swolne udders dry,  
And from her sweet pots broaching this year's wine,  
Makes him with unbought viands dine;  
Nor Lucrine shel-fish'better shall me please,  
Nor Rhombus, nor the Porpuses;  
If that the winter swelled with eastern waves,  
Any to our Ocean laves.  
No Turkeycock shall down my belly fleet,  
Nor lonian Quail, more sweet  
Than th' Olive-betry that new-gathered is  
From the richest boughs of trees;  
Or Sorrell-leafe that loves the meadow ground,  
And Mallows good for bodies bound;  
Or else a lamb on Terminus feasts slain,  
Or a Kid from the Wolf new ta'en.  
Amid these cates how I desire to see  
How the full ewes bend homeward be;  
To see the wearied oxen, as they halled  
The o'erturned plough with necks all galled;  
And, the rich houses swarm, the servants set  
About the chimney trimmed near.  
When as the Usurer Alphius thus had said,  
Who strait a farmer would be made,  
I'th'ldes he gathered all his money in,  
Next month would let it out again.   

EPODE III. Against the eating of Garlic.  

IF any one with hand accursed  
His father's aged neck hath burst,  
Garlic more fell than Hemlock let him eat.  
O the strong guts of country swains!  
What kind of poisons this that reigns  
Within my breast? hast Viper's blood (being h●●  
Among these herbs) from me been hid aside,  
Or did ●anidia these bad cates provide?   

When as Medea did admire  
'Bove all the seamen one fair Squire,  
jason with this she charmed, when he did tie  
Yokes on the bulls to them unknown;  
With presents stained with this alone,  
Torturing her rival she away did fly  
On winged Snakes; nor ere did such a smoke  
Down from the stars the parched Apulia choke.   

Neither did that present crack  
More ragingly upon the back  
Of the laborious Mercules; but I pray,  
O blithe Maecenas, if you crave  
Any such like stink to have.  
At any time, that then your sweetheart may  
Her hands forthright against your kisses spread  
And lie on farthest side of all the bed.    

EPODE iv Against upstert Maenas, late a slave.  

WHat hate betwixt wolve and lambs does use to be  
So much i● 'twixt me and thee,  
Whose sides with Spanish whips are scared  
And whose legs with setters hard:  
Though you with wealth do strut vaingloriously,  
The fortune does not change the quality.   

See you, as through the sacred street you throng,  
With a gown of six else long,  
How the passengers free scorn  
Their faces to and fro doth turn?  
He flayed with Bridewell whips, to th'whippers toil.  
Tills thousand acres now of Falern soil.   

The Appian way he with his Jennets beats,  
And upon the chiefest seats  
He sitteth as a doughty Knight,  
And does marshal Otho slight.  
What profit is't that with a heavy load  
So many ships bowed keels are in the road  
Against these pirates, and these slavish powers,  
He, he being tribune of these bands of ours?    

EPODE V Canidia tortaring a boy, to make a love potion of him.  

O O, what ever God in heaven doth guide  
The earth and all mandkind beside,  
What does thi●●● roar mean, and wherefore be  
All your stane looks 'gainst ●nly me?  
●hee by thy children, if Lucina e●e,  
To thy true l●●ou●s call●d, was there;  
By this my purples fainting die I pray,  
By jove that will these thing gainsay,  
Why like a stepdame dost thou on me look,  
Or like a Whale struck with the hook?   

While thus the Boy did stand, and did complain  
With trembling voice, his ●obes being from him ta'en  
A body very smooth, and such a one  
As might the Thracians cruel breasts atone;  
●onidra having think embroidered 〈◊〉  
With little snakes her locks and uncombed head,  
Commands that figtrees wild from graves up torn,  
Commands that cypress sprigs at funerals worn,  
And eggs with blood of a black toad made fouls,  
And feathers of a nighty flying owl,  
And herbs jolcos' and ●beria  
(Fertile in poisons) does transport away,  
And bones out from a hungry curs chaps sp●●●d,  
〈◊〉 Magic flames should be to ashes burned.  
〈◊〉 busy Sagana the house throughout  
sprinkling Avernall waters round about,  
●●ke a sea Porpus, or a bristling Boar,  
With her hair staring up, about doth ro●e.  
Veia with no fear stopp' digged out the dust  
With her hard spades, grunting at every thrust,  
That the boy rammed in might pine away  
At sight of meat changed twice or thrice each day;  
While he peered up with's head, as bodies sunk  
Tothth' chin in water stand; that his pith shrunk,  
And liver dried might be a love-drink made,  
While his eyes fixed on meats forbidden, did fade.  
Both lazy Naples, and each Village near  
Thought Ariminian Folia was there,  
(A man in lust) who pulleth from the sky,  
Stars and Moon charmed with spells of Thessaly.  
Cruel Ca●●dia here biting away  
Her long nails with black t●●th, what did she say,  
Or what did she not say?—   

O you that to my projects be  
True helpers, Night, and Hecate,  
Who the silence dost command  
While our night-spells are in hand,  
Now come, and on these hostile bowers,  
Throw your anger and your powers.  
While beasts in their sad dens do creep  
Wearied with pleasant sleep;  
Let the Suburan dog's all snarl  
At the old adulterous carl,  
And (which all the town may jeer)  
Besmeared with Spikenard every where,  
" And such a one, as a more true  
●st these my hands did never do.  
Be●● ma●'s happed? why does my direful charm  
Than sell Medea's do less harm;  
Wherewith having tortured fore  
Create Creon's daughter, that proud whore,  
Away she fled thence, when a gown,  
A present o'er with potion strowne,  
Carried from them all on flame  
The but newly married dame.  
Nor plant nor root, yet, hidden in  
Sharp rocks to me unknown hath been;  
Yet he in bed of all his whores,  
Besmeared with oblivion snores.  
Ah, ah, he walks freed from harm,  
By some more skilful witch's charm,  
Thou Varus with no trivial potion  
Back to me shalt make thy motion,  
(Thou whose head for this shall pay)  
Nor shall thy heart, though called away  
With Marsian spells, from me  slide;  
I'll a stronger draught provide,  
I'll a pow'rfuller power out  
For thee that at my love dost flout.  
First heaven beneath the earth shall lie,  
The earth stretched over both on high,  
Than you not flame in my desires,  
Like brimstone in the sooty fires.   

At this the Boy did not, as heretofore,  
These damned hags with gentle words implore,  
But doubtful how he might his silence break,  
Did Thyestaean imprecations speak;   

Poisons, a great help and harm,  
 humane courses countercharm  
I'll curse you all; a dire curse is  
Removed with no sacrifice.  
But when by you being bid to die,  
I shall give up the ghost, than I  
A mighty terror will you meet,  
And as a ghost your faces greet,  
With crooked naises, (which is the power)  
Of the gods in feriour)  
And lying on your panting breast,  
With horror drive away your rest.  
You, loathe some Witches, all the town  
In each street shall batter down,  
Throwing stones now here now there,  
Then wolves and funeral fowls shall tear  
Your unburied limbs in sunder,  
Nor from my parents shall this wonder  
Be concealed, who after me  
Must (alas) survivers be.    

EPODE VI Against Cassius Severus.  

WHerefore, O Cur,  
Dost thou the harmless stranger fright  
Not daring against wolves to stir?  
Why do not you this way  
Your vain threats (if you can) display,  
And seize me that again dare bite.   

For Mastiffe-like,  
Or like unto the brinded hound,  
(The shepherd's loving help) I'll strike  
Through she deep snow, full near  
Unto thee with my pricked up ear,  
What e'er game shall before me bound.   

When thou hast filled  
The forest with thy hideous cry,  
Thou with one cast scrap art stilled:  
O be warned, be warned then,  
For I most fierce 'gainst wicked men,  
Advance my ready horns on high.   

I like unto  
That son in law held in disdain,  
By Lycambes most untrue  
Or the fierce foe of Bupalus,  
If with black tooth one bite me thus,  
Shall I like a weak boy complain?    

EPODE VII. An execration of the civil war.  

O Whither now, O whither  
Run ye (ye cursed men) together;  
Or why are your long laid-by swords made fit,  
For your right hands? is there yet  
Too little wasted of our Latian blood  
Upon the fields and in the flood?   

Not that our Romen might  
Burn the stately towers down quite  
Of Carthage vile; or th'unfound Britain tread  
Our sacred way, being manacled;  
But that unto the Parthians wish this Land  
Might perish by her own right hand.   

'Mongst Wolves and Lions ne'er  
Was such a use, unless it were  
'Gainst beasts of different sort: does hoodwinked fury  
Or stronger force, or sin allure ye?  
Return an answer: they are silent still,  
And paleness won their looks doth fill.   

Their consciences pierced through  
Are all astonished: 'tis too true,  
Sad destiny, and sin of brother's slaughter,  
Our Roman race still followeth after,  
 since just Remus blood o'th'ground did lie  
Fatal to its posterity.    

EPODE VIII. and XII. That obscenitis which cannot in fit words be covered, is not fit in any words to be discovered.   

EPODE IX. Foretelling Caesar's victory against Antony.  
O Blessed Maecenas, when shall I  
(So please jove) in thy palace high  
Taste the wine kept for feasts most glorious,  
When Caesar shall return victorious,  
Being merry with thee, while the lyre  
Doth mixed songs to the pipes inspire,  
Upon this a Doric tone,  
Upon them a Barbarous one?  
As of late we did when (he  
That would Neptune's bastard be)  
The Captain of the Ocean chased  
With his fired ships away did haste;  
Threatening fetters to our city,  
Which formerly he, taking pity,  
Knocked off from slaves turned renegade;  
A Roman Squire, now captivate  
To a female creature, bears  
Her trenching engine and her spears:  
(Ah posterity, you'll say  
This never was) and can obey  
Eunuches with their wrinkled face;  
And the Sun (O vile disgrace)  
'Mongst ensigns fit for chivalry  
Does look upon a canopy.  
But the French-menturned together  
Two thousand foaming horses hither,  
Singing Caesar; and there lie  
The hostile navies sterns close by  
In harbour, looking a wrong way:  
Iö Triumph thou hast brought  
Us a general back from war  
Exceeding Jugurths' victor far,  
And Africa's conqueror, whose glory  
Over Carthage raised his story.  
Our foe by land and sea o'erthrown  
Has put on a homely gown  
For his scarlet, and now he  
With winds against him means to see  
Crect for its hundred cities praised,  
Or sails against the quicksands raised  
By the South, or's tossed aloft  
On the Ocean varying oft.  
Boy, bring larger glasses hither,  
And Chian wine, or Lesbian either,  
Or Cecube liquor for us fill,  
That may the rising stomach still.  
All care and fear for Caesar's State  
In sweet wine I must mitigate.   

EPODE X. An execration against Maevius.  
THe ship's launched out with fate unprosperous  
Carrying in't that stinking Maevius.  
Remember, Southwind, that thou both sides batter  
With horrid waves: let the black Eastwind shatter  
The rackling and the oars all burst in twain  
With the tossed sea; let the North swell again  
As high, as when upon the mountains great  
The trembling oaks it doth in pieces beat.  
Nor let propitious Star that dark night shine,  
When storm presaging Orion does decline.  
Nor calmer sea let him be born upon  
Than was the Grecian Captains legion;  
When Pallas had her indignation turned  
'Gainst Ajax impious ship from Ilium burned.  
O what a sweat does on thy seamen stand,  
And on thyself a paleness swarthy-tanned,  
And that same (not a man beseeming) crying,  
And prayers unto love they suit denying!  
When the lonian creek 'ginning to roar.  
'Gainst the moist Southwind has your vessel tore.  
But if, as a rich prey, being laid flat  
On the crooked shore, thou shalt the crows make far,  
A lustful hee-goat and a lamb besides  
Shall offered be to the tempestuous tides.   

EPODE XI. That he is lovesick, and cannot write verses.  

Petty, it doth not me delight  
Verses, as before, to write,  
Quite thorough thrust  
With deeply wounding lust.   

With lust, the which doth me desire  
'Bove all men else to set on fire  
Or for young boys,  
Or for some female toys.   

This the third winter off has tore  
The forests dress, since I forbore  
To pine away  
For my Inachia.   

Through town O what a sport was I?  
(For I'm shamed at such foolery)  
And I repent  
My feasting-merriments   

In which my grief and silent tongue,  
And sighs from my heart's bottom sprung,  
Argued me  
Inamorate to be.   

And mourning to thee, I did cry,  
A poor man's candid ingeny  
Was all but vain  
To stand against her gain;   

When as the uncivil power  
Of raging wine, had from its bower  
My secret thought  
With stronger liquor wrought   

But in my breast if free rage boil,  
That to the winds it may assoil  
My sighs ingrate  
Which my sore wound can't bate   

Then my modestnesse cast by  
Shall give over presently  
To strive so long  
With rivals over strong.   

When (vexed) I to you had enlarged  
These things, to high me home being charged;  
Along I went  
With feet full imporent,   

To those posts (ah) unkind to me,  
And doors (ah) full of cruelty  
Where mightily  
My loins and sides bruised I.   

Lyciscus love me now doth press,  
Boasting that he in tenderness  
Does far surpass  
Any young married lass.   

Whence nor the free-spent consultations,  
Nor the rigid increpations  
Of my friends ere  
Me off again shall tear:   

But some other flame, in sooth,  
Of some fair maid, or some plump youth,  
Knitting up fair  
His long grown head of hair.    

EPODE XIII. From the present storm to take occasion to be merry.  

A Horrid storm doth cloud heaven o'er,  
And rain and snow do even unthrone love:  
Now the sea, and now the grove  
With the Thracian northwind roar.   

Friends, let's catch opportunity  
Even from this very time; and while our knees  
Are lusty, and it seemly is  
Let age from cloudy brow be free.   

Broach the wine made when Torquat was  
My Consul; cease to speak aught of the rest:  
jove perhaps with change full blessed  
Will these things into order pass.   

Now I desire with Persian oil  
To bespread o'er, and with Mercurial lyre  
from all pertur bations dire  
My cogltations to assoil.   

As the brave Centaur sung unto  
His Pupil ●all; Moral unconquered,  
Boy by goddeste Thet is bred,  
The Land of Troy doth wait for you.   

Which small Scamander's cool streams lave,  
And Simois smooth; whence Fates with destined third  
Thy return home again forbidden  
Not thy sea-mother home shall have.   

Then being there do thou suppress  
Every ill thing with wine and melody,  
The sweet-easing company  
Of deformed distractivenesse.    

EPODE XIV. An excuse for not finishing his iambics.  
WHy a feeble laziness  
Does so great oblivion press  
On my de●p senses, as if I  
Had swallowed down, with chaps parched d●ie,  
Drinks Lethaean slet pes in piring,  
You me kill with oft enquiring,  
(O Macenas dear) for why  
That god, that god does put me by  
My lambicks (some part penned,  
A song long promised) e'er to end  
In no other sort they say  
Anacreon of Te●a  
For Samian Bathyllus burned,  
Who on his hollow Lute oft mourned  
In careless measures his desire;  
You poor heart too are all on fire:  
But if that flame was not so bright  
That burned besieged Troy down quite,  
Joy in your choice: Phryne made free,  
Nor with one man content, pines me.   

EPODE XV. A complaint of Neaera's perjury.  
IT was at night, and in the cleer-browed sky  
The moon among the lesser stars did shine,  
When thou, about to blast the majesty  
Of the great gods, swar'st to these words of mine,  
(Clinging more closely with thy arms twined round,  
Than the tall oak is with the ivy bound)  
While the wolf to sheep a foe,  
And Orion to seamen so,  
Should irritate the winter swollen sea,  
And the wind should every way  
Apollo's uncut locks display,  
This our love interchangeable should be.  
Naera that much for my resolves shalt grieve,  
(For if there's aught of man in Flaccus yet)  
he'll not endure thou all thy nights shouldst give  
To a rival; and being vexed a mate hee'il get.  
Nor shall his constancy ere yield again,  
To thy false face, if fixed grief once step in.  
And thou blessed man who ere thou art,  
That struttest proudly army sma●t  
Though thou be rich in cattles and much ground,  
And Pactolus to thee flow  
And thou Pythagoras secrets know  
(Thrice born) and Nireus dost for face confound,  
Ah thou wilt weep to see her love to steer  
Another course, but I'mean time will jeer.   

EPODE XVI. A deploring of the evil wars, and an exhortation to forsake their country, as untuckie.  
A Second age with civil wars is spent,  
And Rome itself with her own powers is rend;  
Which bordering Ma●sians could not waste away,  
Nor Tuscan band or threatfull Prosena,  
No● Capua's emulo is strength, nor Spartacus  
So violent, nor French perfidious  
To new affairs, nor savage Germany  
Had ever wasted with her painted fry,  
Nor Anni ' bal by his parents cursed still,  
We wicked brood of cursed seed will spill;  
And now our land again shall be o'erspread  
With savage beasts; the barbarous victor tread  
Upon our ashes, and the horseman greet  
Our city with his horses sounding feet;  
And proudly scatter (O abhorred to see)  
Romulus bones from wind and sun set free.  
Perhaps you all, or best part pitch upon  
What must, to scape these wicked wars, be done:  
Let no advice than this be prized more high;  
As did the Phocians cursed city fly,  
Fields, household gods, and temple, too forsook,  
By boars and cruel wolves to be next took.  
Let's go where ere our feet can carry us,  
Where ere the south or north wind boisterous  
Shall call us through the seas: what? does this like?  
Or has some else a better stroke to strike?  
Wherefore do we delay our ships to st●are  
With prosperous fate? but let's to these things swear:  
When rocks, raised from their deep seas up, shall flow,  
Then back again it be no sin to go,  
Nor be a shame our sails towards home to set,  
When Padus shall the Matine hill tops wet.  
Or towering Apennine sink in the main,  
And strange love with new lust shall monsters chain,  
That Tigers shall to mate with Bucks delight,  
And Pigeon shall adulterate with the Kite  
Not credulous herds from yellow lions shall move,  
And the smooth goat the brinish floods shall love:  
Let's swear to these things, and what ever may,  
Take all our sweet hopes of return away.  
Let our cursed city all at once go our,  
Or some part better than th' untutored rout.  
Let the hen-hearted and despairing wretch  
Himself in these ill fated chambers stretch.  
The girdling sea calls us; let's seek out straight  
Those fields, blessed fields and Lands fortunate,  
Where th'earth until each year her fruit doth give,  
And vineyard never pruned doth everlive;  
And the nere-fuling olives branch doth sprout,  
And the ripe fig her native tree sets out.  
From hollow oaks drops honey; from high hills  
The nimble spring with rattling feet distils  
There goats uncalld unto the milk pails come,  
And the fair flock their full swollen bag, brings 〈◊〉;  
Nor evening bear about their fields doth yell,  
Nor does the fertile land with vipers swell.  
And we blessed men shall more admire, as how  
The wet south don't the meads with large storms mow;  
Nor the far seed is parched in furrows dry;  
The heaven's king both so well doth qualify.  
No ship with Argonaures doth hither steer,  
Nor impudent Medea sets foot here,  
No Tyrian sailors hither their sails bend,  
Not yet Ulysses long-toiled regiment.  
Jove for a pious stock these shores selected,  
When he the golden age with brass infected,  
With brass, than iron hardend the age; whose flight  
To those blessed souls by my presage stands right.   

TO CANIDIA. An ironical recantation.  
NOw to thy strong art I my hands assign,  
Humbly, and crave byth' realms of Proserpina,  
And by the unmoved power of Hecate,  
And by the books of spells which able be  
To call the loosened stars down from their sphere,  
Canidia, yet thy damned charms forbear,  
And wind, O wind thy nimble spindle back:  
Telephus so did Nereus grand child slack.  
'Gainst whom proud he his Mysian troops had bend,  
And against whom he had his sharp darts sent.  
The Trojan mat on's murderous ●ector ointed,  
To ravenous birds and dogs before appointed,  
When that the King, descended from the wall,  
Down (ah) at proud Achilles' feet did fall;  
Ulysses' galley-slaves, when C●ree pleased,  
Their bi●●●led members of their hard skin eased.  
Then was their mind and voice restored again,  
And glory in their countenance most plain.  
Thou much by sailors and by factors loved,  
Enough and too much penance I have proved;  
My youth is vanished, and my comely red  
Has left my bones with swarthy skin o'erspread.  
My hiars turned white all over with thyoile,  
No intermission quitteth me from toil.  
The night on day, and day on night doth seize,  
Yet nothing can my wind-swoln entrails ease,  
Therefore poor wretch I am captlved, that I  
May credit what I did before deny,  
That Sabine charms could do a body wrong,  
Or wit be crazed with a Marsyan song.  
What would you more than this?— O earth and seas!  
I flame, as neither poisoned Hercules  
By Nessus' foul blood, nor Sicilian fire  
Raging in burning Aetna can flame higher:  
Thou even a shop of Colchick witchery  
Do●t flame so long, till I, being ashes day,  
To the rude winds shall shattered be: what end?  
Or what amercement does upon me tend?  
Speak, I will truly bear my imposed task,  
Prepared to expiate, whether you ask  
A hundred bulls; or on my false lute you  
Will flattered be; you modest dame and true,  
Being a golden constellation,  
Even the stars themselves shalt tread upon.  
Castor, and mighty Castor's brother shamed  
At the report of Helena defamed,  
Or-come with supplication, did again  
Restore the eyesight from the poet ta'en.  
And you (for you can do't) free me from madness,  
O thou ne'er tainted through thy father's badness,  
Nor old hag skilled from poor men's sepulchres  
The dust scarce nine days covered to disperse;  
Thou hast a loving breast, and righteous hands,  
And yet thy womb for childbirth sitting stands.  
And the nurse washes up your blood-stained clout  
When thou a lustic childbed wife leapest out.   

CANIDIA'S answer.  
WHy pour you prayers into my lockt-up cares?  
The winter-swelled Neptune never tears  
The rocks more deaf to sea men ship wracked  
On the rough sea: should you untortured  
My (by you published) bawdy rites despise,  
The nor-to-be-wronged Cupid's sacrifice?  
And censor of my spells on the watch-hill,  
(Unpunished) with my name the town shouldst fill?  
Wher● in will it avail you rich to make  
The Pelign hags, or quicker poison take,  
If flower destinies on you attend  
Than your desires? you wretch must to this end  
Spin out a loathed life, that so you may  
For new found torments evermore find play.  
Tantalus wanting his still furnished feast,  
(Pelops his faithless father) begs for rest;  
Prometheus craves it, to his eagle tide;  
Sisyphus begs to make his stone abide  
On the hill top; but loves decrees deny:  
So you may wish to leap from turrets high,  
And other while with a Bavarian blade  
To ri●●● entrailes up; and you may braid  
Halters for your own neck, and all in vain,  
Being distracted at your tedious pain.  
Then I'll in state ride on your hateful back,  
Beneath my insolence the earth-shall crack:  
Shall I that can make waxed pictures go,  
(As you yourself ore-curious fool do know)  
Can with my cha●●s the moon from heaven constrain,  
Can raise the  dead bodies up again,  
And make a drink of love, th'event deplore  
Of all my art that hath on thee no power?   

A secular Hymn for the protection of the Roman Empire.  

PHOEBUS, and Diana precedent  
Offorrests, heavens bright ornament,  
Still worthy praise, and still adored,  
Afford  
Those things for which we pray  
Upon our holy day.   

On which the Sibylls' books ordained,  
That virgin's choice, and youths unstained  
Should to those deities rehearse  
A verse,  
With whom our seven hills  
Have purchased good wills.   

Bright Sun that in thy chariot pure  
Dost clear the day, and dost obscure,  
Seem'st various, yet still in one wise  
Dost rise,  
O mayst thou nothing see  
Greater than Rome to be.   

O Ilithuia truly mild  
To bring forth the ripened child,  
Protect our matrons whether thou  
Allow  
To be Lucina famed,  
Or be amid wife named,   

Goddess do thou our stock increase,  
And give our senates laws success,  
'Bout marrying wives; and that, law then  
For men,  
That married they may breed  
A new increasing seed.   

That the world informed clear  
Every hundred and tenth year,  
May make solemn hymns and plays  
Three days  
Bright-shining, and by night  
As long, with all delight.   

You destinies too propagate  
To our past fortunes a blessed fate,  
Let the firm determining  
Of things  
Keep safe what once 'tis seaed  
 firmly prophes'ed   

Let the earth full-stored with corn  
And cattles, Ceres then adorn  
With a coroner of wheat,  
And let  
Sweet rain and breath of Jove  
Our nurseries improve.   

Apoll● mild and pacified  
(Thy artill'rie laid aside)  
To our suppliant youth give ear:  
And hear  
Thou horned Queen of the sky,  
(Luna) our female fry.   

If Rome be a charge of yours,  
And the Troy-descended powers  
Have kept the Roman shores, some few  
By you  
Being bid with course secure  
Their gods and land t'abjure;   

For whom thorough Troy all-fired  
Chaste Ae●eas, not expired  
With's country, without loss did lay  
Free way;  
Willing to give them more  
Than all they left before.   

Ye gods bestow conditions sage  
On our trained youth; to sweet old age  
Give rest: both wealth and issue too  
Give you,  
And all Majestic grace  
To Romulus his race.   

And he that offers ' you white kine,  
(The posterity divine.  
Of Venus and Anchises) let  
Him get  
Power o'er his warring foe  
Mild to him when brought low.   

The Mede now fears our potent band,  
And Roman arms by sea and land,  
The Scythians now our answers wait,  
Of late  
That were so full of pride,  
And th' Indians beside.   

Now Faith and Peace, and Honour too,  
And Chastity famed long ago,  
And long-scorned Virtue dares again  
Come in,  
And blessed Plenty here  
With full horn doth appear.   

And Phoebus' future things divining,  
Adorned with his bow bright-shining,  
And beloved of the nine Muses,  
Who jooses  
With health-restoring arts  
The bodies toiled parts;   

If he our Palatine altars see,  
Rome's weal, and glorious Italy,  
Being propitious, let him still  
Fulfil  
Them to a longer date,  
And fate more fortunate.   

And let Diana who doth hold  
Th' Aventine hill, and Algid cold,  
Our fifteen rulers prayers attend,  
And bend  
Her cares of mild condition  
Unto our youth's petition.   

And I a skilful Chorister,  
Phoebus and Phoebe's praise to rear,  
Bring home good hope, and ne'er to move,  
That Jove  
And all the Deities  
Assent unto our cries.    
FINIS.