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 THE I. AND II. BOOKS 
 
 OP 
 
 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
THE I. AND II. BOOKS 
 
 ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE, 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED 
 
 THE CABMEN S^CULARE, 
 
 AND 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 BY 
 
 HUGO NICHOLAS JONES. 
 
 Nec olim, 
 Omnia, quae fovere Augusti tempora, nostro 
 Conveniunt Genio, nec honore ferentur eodern 
 Reddita : sed proprie sensus, quos continet autor, 
 Qui docet, hie interpres erit. 
 
 Roscommon Be poetis transfer end is. 
 
 WILLIAMS & NORGATE, 
 
 14, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON ; 
 AND 20, SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH. 
 
 MDCCCLXV. 
 
 v 
 
o> 
 
 ^>^\o 
 
 HERTFORD: 
 
 PRINTED BY STEPHEN AUSTIN. 
 
TO THE HONOUEABLE 
 
 HENRY GEORGE HUGHES, 
 
 ONE OF THE BARONS OF HER MAJESTY'S COURT OF EXCHEQUER 
 IN IRELAND. 
 
 -My Lord, 
 
 I dedicate to you the following pages, fully con- 
 scious how undeserving they are of such distinguished 
 patronage ; and with every sentiment of gratitude and 
 regard, 
 
 Believe me, 
 
 Your Lordship's 
 Most obliged and faithful Servant, 
 
 HUGO X. JONES. 
 
ERRATA 
 
 Page vii (Preface), line 7, for secnndus, read secundis. 
 
 „ xvi „ first line (note), /or Ode LI I., r^^ Ode XXXYI. 
 
 ,, xxxvi (Adv.), line 3, for Secular e, read Sceculare. 
 
 „ 11, last line, for Ode XXIII., read Ode I. 
 
 ,, 41, line 12, for reflection, read refection. 
 
 „ 42, „ 4 from the bottom, for and like the Romans, etc., 
 read and which, like the Romans, etc. 
 
 ,, 84, ,, 3, for Decian, read Dacian. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 F an apology be deemed necessary for an 
 attempt "to translate the untranslatable," 
 what excuse shall the author of the fol- 
 lowing pages offer to an indulgent Public ? 
 What apology has he to offer to himself? Does con- 
 science reproach him with time misspent, and shall the 
 too candid critic confirm the accusation ? 
 
 As to the first, his plea is leisure and retirement, 
 which required, and found in a congenial labour, an 
 employment that served at least to fill up the blanks 
 of time, and afford a welcome variety, to chequer the 
 occupations of a country life, and the occasional 
 resources of the chase. 
 
 "A Horace in English like Horace in Latin," says 
 the London Quarterly Review \ " would be something 
 beyond price Noblemen, Diplomatists, States- 
 men and Bishops, as well as poets and scholars, have 
 
 b 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 trodden the same ground." The peculiar difficulty of 
 translating an author, who shines in the graces of 
 expression, rather than copiousness of thought or depth 
 of feeling, one, distinguished as his last translator tells 
 us, by "a simplicity, monotony, and almost poverty of 
 sentiment," lies principally in the exercise of those 
 powers that are called upon to supply the deficiency. 
 
 In imitating the conciseness of his author, Mr. Con- 
 nington has displayed a wonderful mastery of his own 
 language, and in overcoming its inflexibilities, has 
 shown us how its iron can become malleable in the 
 Are of a superior genius. But this is the peculiar gift 
 that must separate his performance from the rivalry in 
 which others may be involved. The instances are not 
 a few, in which the native idiom, if made available, 
 will give opportunities of condensing even beyond the 
 original itself. We should not hesitate, within certain 
 limits, to expand the expression, when at the same 
 time we are developing the idea ; but nothing can be 
 more foreign to the genius of our author than that 
 straggling verbosity, the "inanium turba verborum," l 
 in such violent contrast to the great models of classic 
 antiquity. "When copiousness of thought preserves its 
 natural richness in comprehensiveness of expression, we 
 need aspire no further; for it is worse than useless to 
 aim at coercing a language beyond its capabilities of 
 
 1 Quintilian, 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 compression, 1 but rather to submit to those natural pro- 
 lixities, for which there will be found so many oppor- 
 tunities to compensate. 
 
 In the Preface to Lord Ravensworth's translations, 
 we find this remark : ""Who can translate the following 
 stanzas without some degree of expansion and circum- 
 locution, ' Sperat infestis, metuit secundus,' down to 
 'Tendit Apollo?'" I find, on examination, that Mr. 
 Connington has kept within the limits of the original, 
 the last line in each stanza, corresponding in brevity 
 with the Adonic of the Latin. The following transla- 
 tion of this Ode, which is avowedly an effort at mere 
 condensation, without actually omitting any portion of 
 the original, I take the liberty to submit in this place. 
 
 BOOK II. ODE X. 
 
 Licinius, would' st thou mend thy ways, 
 And free from envy pass thy days, 
 A middle course will shun the shock 
 Of stormy wave or hidden rock. 
 Nor proud nor mean thy habitation, 
 
 The golden rule is moderation. 
 
 The pine's vast bulk, the mountain's height, 
 The storm will shake, the thunder smite, 
 And more tremendous is the fall 
 Of the tall turret's tottering wall. 
 The breast well disciplined, will ne'er 
 In w r eal presume, in woe despair ; 
 
 1 brevis esse laboro, 
 
 Obscurus no. — Hor. Ep. ad Pis. 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 The God that rules the storm and calm, 
 Inflicts the wound, and pours the balm : 
 The same that sped the arrow's ire, 
 Unbends the bow, and strings the lyre. 
 Put the best face on things, but mind, 
 Should veering fortune raise the wind, 
 However fair, in boisterous skies, 
 Take in a reef, if you be wise. 
 
 The writer in the London Quarterly of October, 1862, 
 makes the following very judicious observation : " The 
 task," he says, "is so very difficult, of translating 
 Horace in any way, that no sensible man will lay down 
 rigid rules as to what ways are admissible, and what 
 are not." This is a latitude, however, that I would 
 rather accord to others than myself. 
 
 " Nicety is everything," says the same writer: to 
 preserve the niceties of Horace, requires the rigid 
 observance of some rules which cannot well be over- 
 looked. A scattered style of versification would be 
 utterly out of place; clearness and regularity, to- 
 gether with harmony of numbers, are the peculiar 
 characteristics of Horace ; the expression, as Mr. 
 Connington says, " of obvious thoughts in obvious 
 tho' highly finished language," as opposed to "the 
 exuberance of over expression, a constant search for 
 thoughts that shall not be obvious, and words which 
 shall be above the level of received conventionality." 
 This severe stricture on a prevailing style of composi- 
 tion, coming from the classic pen of so able a writer, 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 cannot be without its due influence in matters of 
 criticism and taste. It is this style which Blair de- 
 scribes, as " wandering thro' so many different measures, 
 with such a variety of long and short lines, correspond- 
 ing in rhyme at so great a distance from each other, 
 that all sense of melody is utterly lost." 1 
 
 Doctor Johnson tells us that "the essence of verse is 
 order and consonance:" and elsewhere, that "enthu- 
 siasm has its rules, and that in mere confusion there is 
 neither grace nor greatness." 2 I cannot resist quoting 
 here the observation of M. De la Motte, "Si on les en 
 croit, Fessence de l'enthousiasme est de ne pouvoir etre 
 compris que par les esprits du premiere ordre, a la tete 
 desquels ils se supposent, et dont ils excluent tous ceux 
 
 que osent ne les pas entendre II n'y auroit 
 
 ni commencement, ni milieu, ni fin, dans son ouvrage ; 
 et cependant l'auteur ce croiroit d'autant plus sublime, 
 qu'il seroit moins raisonnable." 3 
 
 Everything Horatian is opposed to this. Horace 
 demands from his translator an elegant perspicuity, as 
 opposed to magniloquence and obscurity. 
 
 1 See also Aristotle, De Poetica, e| airavrcav tojv /jLerpooi/ ouk 
 17577 kcu iroi7)T7)v Trpoaayopevreov. The literal adoption of this ex- 
 pression by Horace, in the Ep. ad Pis., is remarkable. 
 
 " Cnr ego, Poeta salutor f" 
 
 2 The same author says, " This lax and lawless versification so 
 much concealed the deficiencies of the barren, that all the boys and 
 girls caught the pleasing fashion, and those that could do nothing 
 else could write like Pindar." 
 
 3 Discours sur POde. Tom. I. 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 On the subject of analogous metres, the conscious- 
 ness of inferior scholarship warns me to be silent; 
 neither should I dare to criticise in others what I am 
 unequal to myself. He who, to an arduous undertaking, 
 can afford to superadd difficulties of his own creation, 
 may well be pardoned the ambition that may have 
 prompted it. It is admitted that our author applied 
 all varieties of metre to all varieties of subject. "Why 
 not the translator? 
 
 Among the evils of systematic adaptation, let us take 
 the instances, wherever they occur, of short lines suc- 
 ceeded by long. Nothing sounds more inharmonious to 
 an English reader; and here it is that the fault be- 
 comes prominent, of consulting " rather the eye of the 
 scholar than the ear of the unlearned reader. m The 
 tendency, as the same writer with much nicety of 
 criticism observes, "to represent the shape rather than 
 the sound of the particular couplet or stanza." 
 
 If, according to Blair, " an attempt to construct 
 English verse after the form of Hexameters, Pentame- 
 ters, and Sapphics' ' be indeed "barbarous," criticism 
 (should pretensions so humble be found to elicit it, 
 whether for good or evil) will probably bear severe 
 testimony to the success of the following attempt, in 
 vindicating this opinion. It will be perceived, how- 
 ever, that I have observed the only rule of classic 
 
 1 Black. Mag., Aug. 1863, p. 191. 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 metre that it is possible to apply to English, which we 
 understand by position. 
 
 BOOK I. ODE XXXVIII. 
 
 Boy, I detest barbaric apparatus ; # 
 
 Make me no garland braided with the linden ; 
 Seek not one last sad solitary rose that 
 
 Haply may linger. 
 
 Let the pure myrtle twine us each a garland. 
 So it will suit thee, bearer of the wine cup, 
 Me, while carousing under yon o'erarching 
 
 Shade of a vine tree. 
 
 " The endeavour to naturalize the Hexameter is as old 
 as the Tudors ; and the virgin representative of that 
 most ancient British stock did not withhold her hand 
 from this reformation of English poetry. Stanihurst, 
 Sydney, Harvey, and other literary heresiarchs, are 
 now forgotten, or only known to the curious ; and 
 Southey in our own day has repeated their experiment, 
 and participated in their oblivion. So thoroughly dif- 
 ferent is the genius of the two languages, as to render 
 them in this respect utterly irreconcilable with what 
 Philosopher Square would call "the fitness of things." 
 It may be said, by way of precedent, that the Latins in 
 their turn imitated the versification of the Greeks, ds 
 the Greeks that of the Hebrews, 1 which latter assertion 
 
 1 Quod si cui videtur incredulum, metra scilicet esse apud 
 Hebrseos et in morem nostri Flacci, Gmecique, Pindari, et Alcsei, 
 et Sapphus, vel Psalterium, vel Lamentationes, vel omnia ferme 
 Scripturarum cantica comprehendi, legat Philonem, Josephum, 
 Origenem, Caesariensem Eusebium ; et eorum testimonio me verum 
 dicere comprobabit. — St. Jerom. 
 
Xll PREFACE. 
 
 has divided the opinion of the learned. Scaliger, Gro- 
 tius, and many others, were of opinion that the Hebrew 
 is incapable of either measnre or feet. 1 Cardinal Beller- 
 mine, however, has the following: " Pedes, qnibns in 
 versibns utunter Hebraei, dno sunt .... ex his dnobns 
 pedibns, varie permixtis, fmnt alii qnatnor qui nobis 
 appellantnr Spondseus, Bacchius, Creticns, Molossus. 
 Per hos quatnor pedes et iambum, qnippe voce nsnqne 
 notiores, Hebrseorum Carmina metiemur. 2 Accepting 
 the opinion of the learned Cardinal, I fear the com- 
 parison will nevertheless fail to sustain the pretensions 
 of the Anglo-Hexameter. 
 
 Scaliger' s idea of the Hexameter was purely classic, 
 being limited to the dactyl and spondee, which would 
 be irreconcilable with the Hebrew, as we have seen ; 3 
 whereas others admitted the Anapast, Amphibrachys, 4 
 etc., on the principle of equivalents. 
 
 Though accent and quantity do not conform to each 
 other, still, in the old languages, in contradistinction to 
 the modern ones, harmony is at all events the satis- 
 factory result. 
 
 I have borrowed the idea from Mr. Newman, of 
 
 1 Consult Moreri, Die. His. Art. Poesie des Hebreux. 
 
 2 Inst. Ling. Heb., 12mo, 1619, p. 245 : We may add the testi- 
 mony of Josephus, who, speaking of Moses, says, "After this he 
 read to them a poetic song, which was composed of Hexameter 
 verse ; and left it to them in the holy book." — Ant. of the Jeivs, 
 Book IV., Chap. VIII., sec. 44. 
 
 3 Francis Gomarus asserts the contrary. See Davidis lyra. 
 
 4 Similar instances are to be found in Virgil and Horace. 
 
PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 selecting an ode to prefix by way of Proem, a less 
 paraphrastic version of which comes in the regular 
 order. The first Ode, which is in the nature of a 
 dedication to the friend and patron of the poet, opens 
 with an allusion to the lineage and " family honours" 
 of Maecenas. Caius Cilnius Maecenas was the last of 
 the Lucumones. Inheriting from his immediate an- 
 cestors the order of knighthood, he could never be per- 
 suaded to accept the senatorial rank : the descendant of 
 the. Princes of Etruria ("atavis edite Begibus") was 
 unwilling to confound with factitious honours, those 
 which no prerogative could confer. 
 
 Of all the foibles to which men are liable, there are 
 few less rational than the vanity, and none more natural 
 than the appreciation, of an ancient and illustrious 
 origin; and its moral results will generally repay the 
 consideration that has ever been accorded to the " dignity 
 of immemorial antiquity." 1 An unalienable heritage, it 
 involves an honourable responsibility ; elevating the mind, 
 even under circumstances of difficulty, above the common 
 meannesses of life : while it enhances the favours, it is 
 superior to the caprices of fortune, and is ever a silent 
 rebuke to the vulgar arrogance of such, as the action of 
 human vicissitude may have thrown into the ascendant. 
 When placed in the rear of merit, like the reflector to 
 the light, it gives an added lustre : to no particular 
 time, condition, nation or complexion does it appear 
 1 Lord Macaulay. 
 
XIV PKEFACE. 
 
 more especially to belong; nor does it seem that the 
 patron of Horace was any exception to the rule. How 
 magnificently does Shakespeare give vent to this grand 
 feeling as it bursts from the lips of Othello, 
 
 " I come of Eoyal siege, and my demerits 
 May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune 
 As this which. I have won." 
 
 To the "lam satis terris ,, I have applied the more 
 solemn measure of the Spenserian stanza. 
 
 Ode IV. is identical in spirit with Ode VII. of 
 the fourth Book, but with this difference : In one we 
 have the " Gratise decentes" tripping it modestly by 
 moonlight, and in the other the "Gratia nuda" whose 
 "open air" developments would have no doubt done 
 honour to the " Groves of Blarney," or still more 
 "enriched" the eye of honest Tarn o' Shanter, than the 
 danseuse of the "Cutty sark" who so energetically figured 
 in the "unco" revelries of Kirk- Alio way. 
 
 The translations of the " Quis mult a gracilis" have 
 most of all engaged the notice of criticism. This is 
 occasioned probably from its being the most difficult 
 passage in the whole of Horace to bring out in trans- 
 lation, and partly that so great a hand as Milton's had 
 been tried on it. The difficulty arises out of the 
 unmanagable metaphor that pervades it, winding up 
 in a piece of nautical piety, and a pilgrimage to the 
 temple of Neptune. According to the commentary of 
 Mr. Newman on this passage, Pyrrha is the "deceitful 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 ocean" 1 which the " puer gracilis" is navigating. 
 (Bon voyage.) Horace, however, to whom those 
 waters had not been unknown, as his " uvida vesta" 
 bore votive testimony, prognosticates the impending 
 disaster, when she shall become obstreperous, and his 
 rival lugubrious, under the overwhelming influence 
 of fickle gods and foul weather. Rare cruising, so long 
 as you may take your soundings on those pleasant 
 undulations that sink and swell on the unruffled bosom 
 of "the deceitful ocean!" But the "Aspera nigris 
 equora ventis" suggest the necessity of brandy and 
 water. 
 
 Lord Eavensworth, in the rashness of his candour, 
 has fallen foul of the established prejudice, in ex- 
 pressing his opinion of Milton's rendering of this little 
 Horatian Paradise Lost. As an unrhymed English 
 lyric it falls under the general anathema, and the 
 " sea rough with black winds and storms " does not in 
 English maintain its figurative connexion. To say the 
 truth, it looks very like an intruder on the general 
 sense of the Ode, or what Mr. Connington calls the 
 English Hexameter, "a struggling alien." 
 
 "Auria" is differently applied to the beautiful and 
 the amiable. Anthon prefers the latter sense. The 
 learned translator coins it into a smile — the old estab- 
 lished currency in the tender commerce to which it 
 appertains. Anacreon has applied it to the Queen of 
 
 1 Page 139. 
 
XVI PREFACE. 
 
 Smiles, 1 which, taking into account her marine attri- 
 butes, exhibits a remarkable coincidence with the 
 commentary above cited. In my own hands I fear the 
 glittering epithet has been degraded into a sort of 
 pinchbeck signification, on the principle of the proverb. 
 The custom of the votive offering has outlived the 
 divinity 2 of Neptune; and Cowley, who with an 
 edifying ambition, declared that he was " not so 
 enamoured of the name of translator as not to wish to 
 be something better,' ' has piously substituted the 
 shrine of Loretto. The " simplex munditiis," having 
 reference to the toilet of a Greek girl, may have meant 
 the fcopvfifios, or simple knot suited to the occasion. 
 
 May I be excused for inserting here the following 
 translation, after the manner of the great Scotch 
 
 lyrist : — 
 
 BOOK I. ODE V. 
 
 In pleasant grot, oh, say by what 
 
 Young birkie slim, and a' that, 
 Is Pyrrha woo'd whase bonnie snood, 
 
 She binds for him and a' that ; 
 
 1 Xpv<rr}s Acppodirrjs — Ode LIT. The fable of the Paphian 
 goddess having been formed from the foam of the sea, arose out 
 of the circumstance of her having been wafted thither, as appears 
 by the following passage from Tacitus : " Fama recentior tradit, 
 a Cinyra sacratum templum, Deamque ipsam conceptam mari hue 
 appulsam." 
 
 2 He answered well to him that showed him the great number 
 Of pictures of such as had escaped shipwreck and had paid their 
 vows : and being pressed with this interrogative, whether he did 
 not confess the divinity of Neptune, answered : " But where are 
 they painted that are drowned ? " — An. of Bacon's Adv. of Learn., 
 by Basil Montague, Vol. ii., p. 82. 
 
PREFACE. XVli 
 
 For a' that an' a' that, 
 
 Sae simple, neat, an' a' that, 
 Around his pow the roses glow, 
 
 Wi* odours sweet an' a' that. 
 
 'Twill gar him greet sic faith to meet, 
 
 The fickle Powers an' a' that, 
 When waters smooth no longer soothe 
 
 Love's gliding hours an' a' that; 
 For a' that an' a' that, 
 
 The storm an' cloud an' a' that, 
 Alas he thought that heart was naught 
 
 But sterling gowd an' a' that. 
 
 He fondly deemed her all she seemed, 
 
 Sae constant, kind, an' a' that, 
 The faithless girl whose heart could whirl 
 
 Wi' every wind an' a' that. 
 For a' that an' a' that, 
 
 Her charms an' wiles an' a' that, 
 The tentless heart will learn to smart, 
 
 That trusts her smiles an' a' that. 
 
 Great Xeptune's shrine, whase power divine 
 
 Rules o'er the wave an' a' that, 
 Doth witness hear that I did there 
 
 A tahlet grave an' a* that ; 
 For a' that an' a' that, 
 
 The stormy floods an' a' that, 
 Snatch' d from the sea, hang votively 
 
 My drippin' duds an' a' that. 
 
 Horace's Athenian tastes, the "Spiritum Graiae 
 tenuem Camena3, M made him so close an imitator of the 
 Greeks, that many paraUel passages are to be found, 
 even among the scanty remnants of Grecian literature 
 
XVlll PREFACE. 
 
 that have been rescued from that deluge of barbarism, 
 iu which have perished so many of the choicest 
 creations of human genius. 
 
 For the suppression, nevertheless, of many of those 
 exquisite effusions, that have but too seductively de- 
 picted the blandishments of pleasure, or too touchingly 
 awakened those tumultuous sensations that agitate the 
 breast of youth, we are indebted to the zeal of mediaeval 
 piety, which refused to perpetuate to the scandal of 
 posterity, those otherwise immortal strains, that would 
 have maintained an imperishable record of the genius, 
 and the frailties, of a Sappho. 
 
 The "Yides ut alta" suggests to us some of the 
 pleasant ways of life, by which we "bear to live," 
 rather than "dare to die." Good fellowship, good 
 wine, and a blazing hearth, are very acceptable at all 
 seasons of life ; and other enjoyments there are, better 
 suited to that particular one, "donee canities abest 
 morosa." 
 
 In reference to Ode XI. (To Leuconoe), criticism 
 has not been backward in vindicating the injured name 
 of this fair votary of the stars; nor was the plea of 
 "licence" held to be a sufficient apology 1 for "length- 
 ening" her "penultimate." 
 
 Ode XIII. is a strange admixture of love, jealousy, 
 uxorious aspirations, and a drunken shindy. The tender 
 
 1 See Odes of Horace, translated into English verse by Theodore 
 Martin, p. 20, note. 
 
PKEFACE. XIX 
 
 laceration of the nectar-moisten' d lip 1 is an object of 
 jealous solicitude ; and certain ardent appreciations of 
 the rosy neck and waxen arms of the Roman Lothario, 
 to the imagination of a less prosperous rival, must have 
 been painfully suggestive of that mysterious and self- 
 sustaining passion that "makes the meat it feeds on." 
 
 The Palinodia (Ode XYI.) has given rise to conjec- 
 ture. Anthon, on the authority of Acron and Porphy- 
 ron tells us that the elder lady was the Canidia of the 
 Epodes. If so, it needed no trifling apology for the 
 Iambics. 2 
 
 In the next Ode the younger lady (Tyndaris) is in- 
 vited to a tete-a-tete in the country, recommended by 
 the charms of rural felicity, light wines, and a secure 
 retreat from the energetic courtship of a too ardent 
 admirer. The lovers of those days appear to have been 
 demonstrative in their manners, more so than would 
 probably be relished by the tender associations of our 
 own time. To derange a head-dress, or profane a cri- 
 noline, would now be considered against rule. 
 
 1 Moore, in a note to the XVI. Ode of Anacreon, quotes JEneas 
 Sylvius, where he describes his heroine as possessing "labia corol- 
 lini coloris ad mar sum aptissima." 
 
 2 Of the formidable Iambic, said to have been invented by Ar- 
 chilochus ("proprio rabies armavit Iambo," Hor. Ep. ad Pis.), 
 Aristotle says, MaXisa yap Acktikou root/ fierpooi/ to la^eiov esi. 
 According to Horace, "Alternis aptum sermonibus. ,, Schrevelius 
 derives it from lov $a(eiv. Iacula loqui (Angl. forsan " To speak 
 daggers"). In like manner from BaAA», Iacio, and VaySaos, Im- 
 wtuosus, we have (Hybernice) "To ballyrag:" equivalent to the 
 Anglicau phrase, " To pitch into." 
 
XX PREFACE. 
 
 Ode XX. is remarkable for the flattering compliment 
 to Maecenas, which it so delicately insinuates. The 
 "vile Sabinum" amply compensated for all its defects, 
 by being of the precise age that gave it all its flavour ; 
 sealed as it was on that particular day, when the 
 plaudits of the theatre bore testimony to the popularity 
 of the "first commoner of Rome." 'No music on the 
 waters could be more grateful than that which floated 
 to the ear of Maecenas, in the echoes of the "ancestral 
 river." 
 
 At the close of Ode XXI. the young psalm-singers 
 are charitably admonished to invoke all sorts of good 
 things in the shape of pestilence and famine, not only 
 on their old enemies the Persians, but on their in- 
 domitable island cousins, who, if we believe old Jeffrey 
 of Monmouth, came from the same stock, and whose 
 Dardanian blood has been restored and transmitted since 
 the accession of the Tudors. 1 Our own "anthem" is 
 not over forbearing, and invokes on our foes the most 
 edifying maledictions. 
 
 1 Pennant, speaking of the Earl of Richmond (afterwards Henry 
 VII.), says : " Many contemporary bards, by feigned names, recorcl 
 this part of his life under the names of the lion, the eagle, and the 
 like, which were to restore the empire of the Britons." Gibbon 
 denies the Dardanian origin of the earlier inhabitants of our island, 
 in consequence of those remote annals having been afterwards made 
 the subjects of poetry and romance. In like manner, in the lapse 
 of ages, the "tales of the Crusaders" will in all probability be 
 brought in evidence against the " history of the Crusades." The 
 ground on which the historian of the " Decline and Fall" attri- 
 butes the colonization of Briton to the Gauls is purely geographical, 
 and has nothing more to recommend it than mere propinquity. 
 
PSEFACE. XXI 
 
 That Horace, as Mr. Martin observes, should have 
 some points in common with Burns, is not surprising. 
 The "thoroughly Horatian sentiment' ' which pervades 
 that noble lyric, " A man's a man for a' that," is trace- 
 able to an idiosyncracy, attributable to circumstances 
 not dissimilar. Both, though in different degrees of 
 temperament, were poets ; both, though differing in 
 their after associations, were derived from the same 
 class ("pauperum sanguis parentum"), and both felt 
 and asserted, with equal consciousness, the Aristocracy 
 of Nature. In making these general observations on 
 points of similitude, we may notice parallel passages 
 that cannot under all circumstances be put down to 
 imitation. Among others in Ode XXXI. take from 
 "me pascant olivse" down to "Cithara carentem" and 
 we have in Burns precisely the same idea. 
 
 "While ye are pleased to keep me hale, 
 I'll sit down to my scanty meal, 
 Be't water-brose or muslin-kail, 
 
 Wi* cheerful* face, 
 As langfs the Muses dinna fail 
 
 To say the grace." 
 
 The ode "on Divine Providence," as Mr. Newman 
 rather solemnly designates it, appears to me to be one 
 of those unavoidable hypocrisies not to be too rigidly 
 canvassed, but which a translator, in a little prefatory 
 note, may turn to an edifying account. I greatly 
 doubt the "incipient reaction," and the "reverential 
 
XX11 PEEFACE. 
 
 belief." 1 It may have possibly been called for by some 
 circumstance of the time of which we are ignorant, but 
 we may easily believe that one who had openly attacked 
 the orthodoxy of the day, may have found it prudent to 
 retract, and the ode before us would seem to be a re- 
 cantation of the errors of Epicureanism, 2 which Horace 
 had on a former occasion so unmistakeably professed. 
 
 namque Deos didici securum agere aevum ; 
 Nee, si quid miri faciat natura, Deos id 
 Tristes ex alto coeli demittere tecto. — Serai. 1, v. 
 
 The laxity of Polytheism, however, extended a chari- 
 table indifference to the varieties of Pagan worship ; 
 leaving it to the disciples of a holier dispensation, to arrive 
 at that high state of religious perfection, which developes 
 itself in the zeal of polemical acerbity. It is curious to 
 observe the paradoxical tendency of modern systems, 
 which, instead of endeavouring to reconcile to the conclu- 
 sions of reason, 3 those things which the limited comprehen- 
 sion of man is unable to embrace, seek rather to surround 
 them with the haze of an exaggerated mysticism. 
 
 1 Odes of Horace, translated into unrhymed metre, by F. W. 
 Newman, p. 105. 
 
 2 Gibbon quotes the authority of Diogenes Laertius to show that 
 Epicurus was an assiduous devotee. The same account is given of 
 Hobbes; nor was it till after his death that the real opinions of 
 Spinoza were made known through the Ethics, a posthumous pub- 
 lication. The conversation of Spinoza was orthodox and edifying. 
 There is a sensible aphorism from Seneca quoted by St. Austin 
 (De civitate Dei) in reference to doctrines "by law established :" 
 " Qure omnia sapiens servabit tanquam legibus jussa, non tanquam 
 diis grata." 
 
 3 The claims of reason and science in matters of religion have 
 recently been fully and ably vindicated by the Bishop of London. 
 
PREFACE. XX111 
 
 To this prostration of reason before ruling influences, 
 is to be ascribed all the most extravagant illusions that 
 have taken the form of religion, and imposed upon the 
 ignorance, the fears, and the credulity of mankind. 
 Hence the dark empire that superstition has established 
 over the human mind; that over-awes the rational 
 being before the faculty has been sufficiently matured 
 to examine or resist, surrendering itself to the instincts 
 of a blind persuasion, which, never venturing into the 
 liberty of opinion, maintains its dogmatic steadfastness 
 with unreasoning fidelity. 
 
 " There is safety in numbers." 3tlany gods, and 
 many creeds, present a parallel in curious conformity 
 with the proverb. In Pagan times, as Gibbon informs 
 us, they approached " with equal reverence, the altars of 
 the Lybian, the Olympian, and the Capitoline Jupiter.''' 
 Among us, the same liberality seems to unite that great 
 Section, which, in the charitable antagonism of many 
 creeds, 1 fraternizes under a common designation ; in 
 opposition to that, whose inexorable unity raises up the 
 barrier of an exclusive communion. 
 
 1 " Unbounded religious liberty," says Doctor Mosheim, "natu- 
 rally produces a variety of sects." Further on he alludes to "the 
 ministerial labours" of Mr. George "Whitfield, who maintained the 
 doctrine, " that true religion consists alone in holy affections, and in 
 a certain inward feeling which it is impossible to explain ; and that 
 Christians ought not to seek the truth by the dictates of reason or 
 by the aids of learning, but by laying their minds open to the direc- 
 tion and influence of divine illumination." This theology is any- 
 thing but dogmatic, and seems to be as impregnable as it is 
 certainly unaggressive, while it altogether supersedes the labours of 
 a Paley or a Colenso. 
 
XX1Y PEEFACE. 
 
 Nothing is more conservative of the essentials of 
 faith than liberty of investigation, in search of which 
 but too many have forsaken the "living waters,' ' to 
 drink at those seductive fountains of wit and wisdom, 
 that have sparkled on the shores of Leman, or in the 
 shades of Ferney. 
 
 It is much to be regretted, that the humanizing 
 influences of education in our own time and country, 
 have not had their due effect in smoothing down those 
 asperities that have disturbed the order of society, and 
 caused its ordinary landmarks to be confused or for- 
 gotten ; but the spirit of dissension will not be un- 
 profitably cultivated, so long as the passions of the 
 votary subserve the interests of the altar. 
 
 It appears from a passage from Lucretius, quoted by 
 Anthon, that thunder in a serene and cloudless sky 
 was deemed physically impossible. There is a singular 
 coincidence with this passage of Horace, in the case of 
 a nobleman, remarkable in his time, (I believe the 
 same who gives his more euphonious patronymic to a 
 family that " blend him with their line"); I mean 
 Lord Herbert of Cherbury, author of the treatise "De 
 Veritate prout distinguitur a revelatione, verisimile — 
 possibile, et a falso." Doubting whether it might be 
 conformable to the divine will that he should publish 
 his book, he had recourse to devout prayer to obtain 
 "a sign" from heaven to direct him. He tells us 
 that he had no sooner spoken than he heard a loud 
 
PREFACE. XXV 
 
 noise from the heavens, and that "in the serenest 
 sky, without all cloud," (" per purum tonans") which 
 did "so comfort and cheer him" that he resolved 
 to print his hook. I do not know if this coincidence 
 has ever before attracted observation. 
 
 In translating the " Motum ex Metello," I have 
 again used the Spenserian stanza, as the one best suited 
 to the gravity of the Ode. That adopted for the suc- 
 ceeding one, I find is the same used by the brilliant 
 Pastor of Watergrasshill ; and next in succession is the 
 " Aequam memento," which gives its gloomiest colours 
 to the philosophy of Epicurus. The commencement 
 and the end — each lifts a corner of the veil from the 
 ghastly image, and the intervening precepts of pleasure 
 assume the melancholy aspect of "Smiles, that might 
 as well be tears." Flowers are scattered before the feet 
 of Mortality, too soon to wither under the blight of his 
 advancing footsteps — nimium breves ! Everything that 
 could most bind us to life is brought before our view 
 only to remind us of its instability, and all breathes the 
 dreary spirit of those words, which, though traced 
 in ashes, eternity alone can obliterate — "Memento 
 homo tu a pulvis es et ad pulverem reverteris." 
 
 The "Ne sit aneillae," is not altogether to my taste, 
 though not so far advanced beyond the Eighth Lustrum, 
 that I may not still continently appreciate the loveli- 
 ness of a fair arm or gentle look, not forgetting the 
 " teretes suras ;" or, as Byron says, 
 
XXVI PEEFACE. 
 
 " The many-twinkling feet so small and sylph-like, 
 Suggesting the more secret symmetry 
 Of the fair forms that terminate so well." 
 
 Fearing these prefatory remarks may grow tedious, 
 and sooth to say they have already extended much too 
 far, I will here cut them short, merely adding a few 
 sentences, to supply as briefly as possible, a sketch of the 
 
 BIOGRAPHY OF HORACE. 
 
 He was born at Venusia a. v. c. 689, b.c. 65. His 
 father (a freedman) possessed some small property in 
 the neighbourhood, which, with the profits of an 
 humble calling, enabled him to remove to Rome for the 
 education of his son, who subsequently completed his 
 studies in the schools of Athens. It was at this period 
 that those remarkable events were in progress that 
 commenced with the assassination of Caesar. Horace 
 was among the number of those who joined the Repub- 
 lican standard of Brutus and Cassius. He obtained the 
 rank of Military Tribune, was present at the battle 
 of Philippi, where he tells us (as it is generally believed, 
 in a spirit of ironical pleasantry) that he forsook his 
 shield. When he returned home, his father was dead, 
 his inheritance confiscated, and little remained to him 
 but those old thread-bare associates, poetry and poverty. 
 He had to write for bread. Horace, however, who was 
 no doubt an agreeable companion, a bright scholar, and 
 a staunch friend, was not without sympathy and encou- 
 
PREFACE. XXV11 
 
 ragement from those whom he had known in less 
 adverse circumstances. He was twenty-seven years of 
 age when Virgil introduced him to Maecenas, who, 
 after an interval of nine months, renewed the acquaint- 
 ance, under circumstances that led to one of the most 
 remarkable instances of intimacy and friendship that 
 we have on record. Among the substantial fruits of 
 the attachment that had thus sprung up between the 
 poet and the minister, was the Cottage at Tibur, the 
 Sabine Farm, and the favour of Augustus, by whom we 
 learn, on the authority of Suetonius, he was offered the 
 lucrative post of private secretary. 
 
 That Horace was a sagacious man of the world, with 
 a keen wit, and a sound understanding, seems to be the 
 opinion that posterity has formed of his character ; a 
 man of ease rather than of pleasure, one, 
 
 " Whose blood and spirits were so well eommingled, 
 That he was not a pipe for fortune's finger 
 To play what stop she pleased." 
 
 Nevertheless are there grounds to believe, that he 
 was of a less unimpassioned disposition than even his 
 loves would bespeak him, and if 
 
 " The pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover" 
 throbbed less tumultuously at his lay, it was perhaps 
 the fault of circumstances rather than of Nature. He 
 has shown himself notwithstanding a spiteful lover, and 
 fully justified our great English poet in saying — 
 " Sweet is revenge, especially on women." 
 
XXV111 PEEFACE. 
 
 If we believe himself ("puellis nuper idoneus^), he 
 possessed that quality in a high degree, which is set 
 down by the naturalist, 1 as the redeeming virtue of an 
 otherwise phlegmatic quadruped ; yet is it questionable 
 that his susceptibilities were ever sufficiently awakened, 
 save in a single instance, to cause him a restless 
 pillow. Neither was sleep in her turn "so coy a 
 dame," as to refuse him the boon of a remedial solace. 
 When cheated of the real, she often substitutes those 
 balmy resources that flow from the ideal, and lulls the 
 disappointed spirit, among those dreamy emanations, 
 that so sweetly compensate, and so soothingly relieve. 2 
 That Horace was a patriot, we have sufficient testimony, 
 independent of the cause which he espoused. It is true 
 he offered incense at the shrine of despotism, but after 
 all, the despot was the deliverer. Perhaps the Imperial 
 administration, in the hands of a master spirit, may have 
 been necessary to the restoration of order, from an ocean 
 of turbulence and conflict. As in modern France — 
 w Motos prestat componere fluctus." 
 
 In November, a.v.c. 745, only a few weeks before 
 the death of Horace, expired one of the most remarkable 
 men, whose counsels have influenced the destinies of 
 nations; the able statesman, the accomplished scholar, 
 the patron of letters, and the last of a Eoyal line, on 
 whose fallen fortunes had arisen the liberties of Eome. 
 
 1 See Goldsmith's Animated Nature. 
 
 2 The curious may consult B. I. Serm. v. 
 
PEEFACE. XXIX 
 
 Imagination may here be allowed to take her stand 
 for a brief moment by the side of History, while we 
 contemplate those two mighty actors in the great 
 drama, from which one was about to make his last 
 exit, Augustus and his minister. "We can fancy to 
 ourselves this great master of the world, as he hung 
 over the dying statesman, the one who had counselled 
 him in his difficulties, assuaged his passions, and directed 
 the conduct of his affairs to a successful issue. These 
 are the moments that speak to the hearts of Monarchs. 
 "Where then, the animated energy, the keen sagacity, 
 the consummate ability, that were once brought to 
 bear on those stirring events, which marked one of the 
 most eventful passages in the history of mankind ? 
 Fading into the shadows of death ! and the voice, once 
 fluent in discussing the projects of power and empire, 
 more eloquently proclaimed in the feebleness of its 
 dying accents, the vanity of human greatness. The 
 narrow frontier was about to be passed that separates 
 time from eternity. No longer were needed the strains 
 of distant music, the murmurs of the Anio, or the 
 drowsy plash of its falling waters, to lull the watcher 
 to repose. 1 Among the last words of Maecenas, the poet 
 
 1 The natural infirmities of Maecenas were fearfully aggravated 
 towards the close of his life by want of sleep, which Antonius 
 Musa, his physician, endeavoured to remedy, by having recourse to 
 these means, which were not altogether without effect. The re- 
 mains of Maecenas's villa at Tivoli is one of the most interesting 
 relics of antiquity, and the cascades of the Anio, still bring to the 
 ear of the tourist, their historical associations. 
 
XXX PREFACE. 
 
 was not forgotten: "Horatii Macci, utmei, esto memor." 
 
 But his solicitude Blight have been spared. 
 
 " Ibimus, ibimus, 
 Utcuuque precedes, supremum 
 
 Carpere iter comites parati." — n. xvn. 
 
 It was verified almost to the letter. 
 
 Of Horace it might be said with truth, that his 
 strongest sentiment was friendship, and from this it 
 was that he drew his tenderest inspirations. Quintilius 
 he mourned, and Valgius he consoled, but Maecenas was 
 unsung. Too fatally did he keep his word to him, who 
 was the "decus columenque rerum." How soon did he 
 follow, when such friendship could decay ! He traced no 
 epitaph, and sang no elegy over the tomb, beside which 
 he was so soon to take his place — the string was 
 broken, and the Yenusian lyre, like the harp of Judah, 
 was hung upon the willows. 
 
 Horace was the Moore of his day, and his Odes 
 might not be inaptly designated the Eoman Melodies. 
 Both poets broke fresh ground; for the English language 
 really had no lyrical idiom before Moore, and, in many 
 ways, a parallel might be drawn between them. The 
 genius of both was polished, to the highest, by the litera- 
 ture of Greece and Rome. Both lived in times of high 
 civilization and mental culture, both rose from an 
 humble position in society, 1 both were associated, 
 
 1 Though, born of parents in an humble, but respectable con- 
 dition, the celebrated author of the "Irish Melodies" could have 
 laid claim to the most illustrious ancestors that have figured in 
 
PREFACE. XXXI 
 
 through their respective careers of life, with all that 
 was high, and noble, and gifted, in their day, and each 
 was, of his own country, the "fidicen lyrae." Each was 
 
 the history of his native country, on grounds as authentic and 
 conclusive as any that could be relied on, in the absence of a 
 detailed pedigree, so rarely to be found, but more particularly 
 in a country that has passed through so many revolutions. We are 
 indebted to the learned editor of M Macariae Kxcidium," and author 
 of " The Irish Brigades in the Service of France," for the light- 
 that has been thrown on the family history of the great poet, 
 whose descent he deduces from Conal Cearnach of the line of Ir, 
 which reigned about the commencement of the Christian era. From 
 this line is derived the 0' Mores of Leix, who held their possessions, 
 according to Hardiman, to the year 1606, when they were finally 
 subdued, and a considerable part of their territory fell to a family 
 of Cosbies, or Crosbies, said to be a branch of the Crosbies of Great 
 Crosbie in Lancashire. (See Doctor Smith's "Hist, of Kerry"). 
 Doctor 0' Donovan, however, on the authority of a document in the 
 State Paper Office, London, dated 1600, contradicts this statement. 
 The Earl of Ormonde, writing to Sir Robert Cecil, a.d. 1601, on 
 the subject of the fraudulent conduct of the government officials, 
 makes mention of Crosbie, whose real surname it appears was not 
 Crosbie, but Maccrossan, and whose ancestor had been attached to 
 the 0' Mores in the capacity of Chief Rymer. This Patrick Crosbie 
 became the principal agent for the removal of the Seven Septs 
 of Leix into Kerry. Donatus O'Mooney, a con temporary writer, 
 alluding to the 0' Mores of Leix, says, " JNon licet cuique nato in 
 tota ilia regione (Lisise) qua? pene integrum comitatum continit, 
 sistere aut habitare in aliquo loco infra triginta milliaria a finibus 
 suae patriae." It appears also that in 1631, by order of the govern- 
 ment, the O'Mores were to be transplanted "into some remote 
 
 place beyond the mountains of Sleievelougher." In May 
 
 j 1702, at Chichester House, Dublin, were sold the forfeited lands of 
 
 ! Delis, the property of Ambrose Moore, Collector of the port of 
 
 Dingle in the reign of James II. Thus, finally stripped of every* 
 
 thing, they migrated to Dublin, where they engaged in mercantile 
 
 I pursuits. Ambrose Moore is mentioned as having been a merchant 
 
 ! of eminence, and, like the poet, "remarkable for his social 
 
 qualities." " Of those Moores," says my authority, " were also 
 
 Messrs. Garrett and John Moore, brothers ; the latter the father of 
 
 our great poet, Thomas Moore. For the account given of the 
 
 O'Mores in extenso, see O'Callaghan's "Irish Brigades," pp. 131, 
 
XXX11 PEEFACE. 
 
 attached, by ties of the sincerest friendship, to a brother 
 poet, of a genius superior to his own, and each mourned 
 over an untimely grave. Even in personal resemblance, 
 the parallel does not fail; nor, in drawing the com- 
 parison between those great masters of song, does it 
 seem entirely to die out, when we consider the very 
 similarity of their contrasts ; the brilliant vivacity of 
 Horace, with the majesty of Virgil, and the sparkling 
 gaieties of Moore, with the dreary sublimities of Byron. 
 It is to the misfortunes of that great, but singularly 
 unhappy man, that we owe the development of his 
 peculiar genius. Poetry itself owes infinitely more to 
 our sorrows than our joys, and true it is, that even 
 an inspired pencil has more elaborately pourtrayed the 
 " afflictions of Job," than the " felicities of Solomon." 
 
 In a critical examination of the two bards, we must 
 give the palm to the modern lyrist. More tender in 
 his pathos, more refined in his sentiments, more im- 
 passioned in his feelings, and more delicate in their 
 expression, he possessed that musical sensitiveness 
 which enabled him to subdue the harshness of his 
 native dialect into the melody of Italian numbers. 
 
 310. I may mention in passing, that it was well for the trans- 
 planted Septs and their descendants to have obtained a settlement, 
 even such as their friend Crosbie was willing to concede to them, 
 "beyond the Sleievelougher mountains ;" for by the 6th Anne, c. 11, 
 all " pretended Irish gentlemen" were liable to transportation, and 
 there is no knowing what would have been the fate of the celebrated 
 Thomas, had he lived some generations earlier, without the indis- 
 pensible "local habitation," as by the 10th and 11th Car. I., c. 16, 
 " wandering poets" were subject to imprisonment. 
 
PREFACE. XXX111 
 
 The life of Maecenas, which he would have clung to 
 on any terms, lingered to its close. The death of Horace, 
 which, under all circumstances, appears not to have 
 been unwelcome, is known to have been sudden, and 
 believed to have been voluntary. He was fifty-seven 
 years of age at the time of his death, small of stature, 
 and delicate of constitution. His tomb was on the 
 Esquiline Hill, near that of Maecenas, so that friends in 
 life, " in death they were not divided.' ' 
 
 That Horace, in the absence of revealed, had no other 
 religion than the worship of Nature, in the appreciation 
 of her gifts, 1 would seem to be the natural result of that 
 strong sense which appears to have been one of his most 
 remarkable characteristics. That he had a high sense 
 of chivalry, and of the sublime motives and potency of 
 virtue, is exemplified in that beautiful apostrophe, in 
 which he seeks to give the highest direction to the pre- 
 cepts of patriotism and valour in the breast of youth. 
 Virtue, relying on its intrinsic value, should it fail to 
 realize those rewards that depend on the breath of popular 
 caprice, yet opens to itself a destination deserving of im- 
 mortality, inaccessible to the base, while it soars, uncon- 
 scious of repulse, above the sordidness of earthly ambition. 2 
 
 1 It would seem from a remarkable book by Frederick Van 
 Leinhoff (1703), entitled " Eeaven on Earth" that Christianity 
 itself is not wholly without an Epicurean element. The learned 
 and pious Author maintains literally that it is the duty of Chris- 
 tians "to rejoice always" and to "suffer no feelings of affliction 
 and sorrow to interrupt their gaiety." 
 
 2 See Book III. Ode II. 
 
XXXIV PREFACE. 
 
 Yet what is the virtue that is derived from the 
 teachings of philosophy, 1 when compared with the 
 higher spiritual perceptions to which we have been 
 advanced, but the cold realization of moral beauty, 
 carved from those rude materials of our Nature which 
 have been subjected to their elaboration ; but that 
 which has been produced by the creative functions of 
 grace, is conceived in its integrity, not worked out in 
 its details ; generated in the soul, by the operation of 
 a divine communion, and developed by a fostering 
 Providence, into the excellence of Christian perfection. 
 Our poet was a true disciple of the philosophy of the 
 garden ; and death, so constantly adverted to, assumed 
 no doubt, a deeper gloom, from the idea of an inexorable 
 finality. Its ghastly representative took its place at the 
 banquet, not as the admonisher of a great change, but 
 of an absolute annihilation; beyond which there was 
 no hope to cheer, and no responsibility to disturb ; the 
 most perfect contrast to the principles of that divine 
 dispensation, that within a few short years, and while 
 Augustus still ruled the Roman empire, had its origin 
 in the manger of Bethlehem : the one, pointing to an 
 ideal future, which the frailty of a fallen nature can 
 but feebly discern, through the frigid medium of a faith, 
 which is called on to appreciate what it cannot realize, 
 the other, warm with all the exuberant instincts of 
 
 1 A superficial knowledge of philosophy doth incline the mind 
 of man to Atheism ; but a further proceeding therein doth bring 
 the mind back to religion. — Lord Bacon. 
 
PEEFACE. XXXV 
 
 present enjoyment, where the gratification of the senses 
 is conserved rather than restricted, within the bounds 
 of a salutary moderation. If its wisdom sought to 
 correct the extravagancies of the passions, it was only 
 that their energies might become the more recupera- 
 tive, and the precepts of virtue had no higher aim than 
 the economy of pleasure : to crowd as far as might be, 
 all the felicities of which we are susceptible, into the 
 compass of a transitory existence, as the tints of the 
 autumnal forest become more gorgeously profuse, in the 
 approximation of decay. 
 
 A happier philosophy distinguishes the votary of the 
 Gospel. In contrast with the " quod ultra est oderit 
 curare," is the consolatory aspiration of the greatest of 
 mediaeval poets ; 
 
 Mollem senectam me deceat magis 
 Traducere intra socraticam domum, 
 Dum cogito qua? sit beatis 
 Post cineres animis voluptas. Vida. 1 
 
 Notwithstanding the retrospect of a life of usefulness 
 
 and labour, not unhallowed by effusions of profound 
 
 devotion, how far less reliantly does our own Johnson 
 
 contemplate the prospect, 
 
 ubi vanse species, umbrseque fugaces, 
 Et rerum vo-litant rarae, per inane, figura?. 2 
 
 1 Let age, in wisdom's calm repose, 
 Await the universal doom, 
 Nor yearn for other joys than those 
 
 "Whose glories live — beyond the tomb. 
 2 See his poem entitled YvwQi 'Seavrov. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 In offering this volume to the public, which contains 
 the first and second books of the Odes, with Preface and 
 Appendix, to which I have added the Carmen Seculare, 
 I take the opportunity which it affords me of disclosing 
 what are my intentions with regard to the remaining 
 portions. 
 
 I propose to continue in a second volume, uniform 
 with the present, the remainder of the Odes and Epodes. 
 I take leave just to mention here, that this task of 
 translating Horace had been commenced and prosecuted 
 to a considerable extent, before the publication of Lord 
 Havens worth's book, which, with the exception of Mr. 
 Newman's, is the longest out, of any that I have seen ; a 
 circumstance which will, I hope, excuse my having 
 undertaken it. 
 
 If there are any passages resembling my predecessors', 
 all that can be said is, that in going over the same 
 ground, such things will be. 
 
 No author admits of more variety in translation, and 
 notwithstanding the number that have gone before, I 
 have no doubt that others will yet follow. 
 
 There is room enough for all. Each may have his 
 own merit after his own way, and each leave some 
 print of his own footsteps, though in the path which 
 many have trodden. 
 
 
PEOEM 
 
 AD LYEAM. BOOK I. ODE XXXII. 
 
 Air. — " My gentle harp, once more I waken." 
 
 §ENUSIAN lyre, to native measures, 
 They bid me wake thy Latian strain, 
 If many a year, thy tuneful treasures, 
 "Woo'd in the listless shade, remain, 
 Assist me, as 'mid wars surrounding, 
 
 Or moor'd above the rippling wave, 
 To the fierce Lesbian's hand resounding, 
 Thy chords their earliest numbers gave. 
 
 Within the warrior bard's caresses, 
 
 Thy glowing themes were Love and wine, 
 The dark-eyed Lycus' raven tresses, 
 Soft Yenus, and the kindred nine ; 
 And even the God of light, when breaking 
 
 From eastern skies o'er land and sea, 
 Is not more glorious than when waking 
 
 The tones that sleep, sweet shell, in thee. 
 
 1 
 
PEOEM. 
 
 Still, as the music-kissing fingers 
 
 Athwart the ravish' d chords are thrown, 
 Great Jove, amid the banquet lingers 
 
 O'er the loved magic of thy tone : 
 Sweet soul of song, our toils to lighten, 
 
 When struggling cares the bosom fill, 
 Oh, let thy sweetest solace brighten 
 
 My tuneful invocation still. 
 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 MAECENAS ATAVIS. 
 
 rZ^s* 
 
 fr 
 
 -3ECENAS, of a Royal Line, 
 Patron and ornament of mine, 
 Some men there are who seem to place 
 
 Their glory in the chariot race, 
 
 The whirling wheels that graze the goal 
 
 Thro' dust Olympic as they roll, 
 
 The palm that elevates on high, 
 
 Amid the rulers of the sky. 
 
 Thrice honoured this man if he wins 
 
 The voice of fickle citizens, 
 
 That, if the ample heap he stores, 
 
 That loads the Lybian thrashing floors. 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 To tempt him near Etrurian breakers, 
 
 Who loves to till paternal acres, 
 
 Trembling, to spread the Cyprian sail, 
 
 The wealth of Attains would fail. 
 
 Scared by Iearia's troubled wave, 
 
 The son of trade, when South winds rave, 
 
 Delights to praise the peaceful tillage 
 
 That smiles around his native village ; 
 
 Then views his stranded ship, and not 
 
 Content with this his frugal lot, 
 
 Again repairs her shattered sides, 
 
 Again commits her to the tides. 
 
 Some scruple not to while away 
 
 With mellow Massic, half the day, 
 
 Beside some holy fountain laid, 
 
 In green Arbutus' placid shade. 
 
 Many delight, in tented field 
 
 To hear the sound of clarion, peal'd 
 
 In martial echoes that impart 
 
 Their terrors to a mother's heart. 
 
 The sportsman, 'neath benumbing Jove, 
 
 Forgets his anxious lady-love, 
 
 When the fleet stag before the pack 
 
 Flees with staunch noses on his track, 
 
 Or off, the Marsian boar shall set, 
 
 Bursting his way thro' circling net. 
 
 But ivy, learning's meed, be mine, 
 
 To blend me with the Powers divine. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 The gentle choir of mountain maids, 
 And sylvan Gods, and cooling shades, 
 Distinguish from the vulgar throng, 
 The glorious votary of song. 
 Let Polyhymnia, and the fair 
 Euterpe grant the poets' prayer, 
 The one, to breathe upon his flute, 
 And one to string the Lesbian lute ; 
 Then, if among the honoured race 
 Of lyric bards, to find a place, 
 Successful be my aspirations, 
 My head shall smite the constellations. 
 
 EL 
 
 JAM SATIS TEKRIS. 
 
 (g^^NOTTGH of snows and driving sleet,hath strew'd 
 
 rPS\ ^ e m ^ a ty ^ re# ^ De c ^y trembles lest, 
 t]b^? Pyrrha's stern age restore the monstrous brood, 
 When Proteus' flock dived o'er the mountain's breast, 
 And frighted deer the swelling waters prest. 
 The nations quake, lest a new-delug'd world 
 Bid scaly tribes invade the turtle's nest 
 On the high elm, where erst her pinions furl'd, 
 As from red hand the bolts on sacred towers were hurl'd. 
 
O THE ODES OF HOE ACE > 
 
 Tiber, we've seen roll back his tawny flood, 
 With wave retreating o'er the Etruscan shore, 
 To where the monuments of Numa stood, 
 And Yesta's temple. His right bank no more 
 Eestrains th' uxorious waters, as they pour 
 Their boastful billows, rioting above 
 The scenes of desolation, while thus o'er 
 The delug'd plain, too angry torrents move, 
 Venger of Maia's woes despite the will of Jove. 
 
 Our youth, made few by their sire's strife, shall know 
 Of native swords 'gainst native breasts unsheathed, 
 Whose edge had better sought the Persian foe, 
 Nor madly thus in civil slaughter bathed. 
 Oh, to what God shall now our vows be breathed ? 
 How win reluctant Vesta to the song 
 Of sacred virgin, and preserve unscath'd 
 The tottering empire, and its days prolong, 
 Who shall great Jove appoint to expiate the wrong ? 
 
 Prophetic God ! Apollo, hear my prayer. 
 Come with bright shoulders veil'd in mantling shade. 
 Or, Erycina, if thou'lt here repair, 
 Come with thy loves and joys in smiles array' d. 
 Come thou, great Pounder, if a tardy aid 
 At length thy long-neglected race shall know, 
 (Now this too lengthened game of blood is play'd) 
 Who lov'st the battle's shout, the helmet's glow, 
 And the stern Marsian's brow bent on the bleeding foe' 
 
 I 
 
THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 Or if, wing'd son of gentle Maia, thou 
 In youthful figure and in altered guise, 
 Th' Avenger of great Caesar wilt avow 
 Thyself, Oh then may our iniquities 
 Ne'er waft thee hence. Unto thy native skies 
 Late thy return, and long thy prosp'rous reign. 
 Father and Prince ! These titles learn to prize 
 Amid thy triumphs ; nor the Mede again 
 Shall e'er, (our leader thou), insult the Roman plain. 
 
 III. 
 SIC TE DIVA. 
 
 H ship, in which my soul confides 
 Its severed half to Ocean's breast, 
 May (Eolus preserve its tides 
 Unmoved, save by the favouring West. 
 
 So may the Queen of Cyprus isle, 
 And Helen's heavenly brothers, o'er 
 
 Thy starlit way auspicious smile, 
 To guide thee safe to Athens' shore. 
 
 'Twas breast of brass, and heart of oak, 
 That first in fragile vessel went, 
 
 While Worth and South contending, woke 
 The tumult of each element. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE, 
 
 Kude North, nor weeping Hyades 
 
 Could strike with fear those souls erratic, 
 
 Tho' nothing is there like to these, 
 To lash or lull the Adriatic. 
 
 Fearless is he can tearless seek, 
 
 Where monsters roll amid the shocks 
 
 Of seething surges, as they break 
 On fell Ceraunia's blasted rocks. 
 
 In vain hath Heavenly wisdom plann'd 
 'Twixt soil and soil the severing sea, 
 
 If daring ships from land to land 
 May waft their bold impiety. 
 
 A stubborn, stern presumption, still, * 
 There dwells the human breast within, 
 
 A fortitude for every ill, 
 A wickedness for every sin. 
 
 A hapless fraud, a daring hand, 
 That filch' d the fatal fire on high, 
 
 "With plagues unknown, it cursed the land, 
 And many a wasting malady. 
 
 Then death, once slow, soon learned to haste 
 His loitering step, and Daedalus, 
 
 Ambitious, sought th' ethereal waste 
 On pinions ne'er designed for us. 
 
THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 For man, rash fool, all things will dare ; 
 
 Hell, Hercnles hath rent asunder : 
 Heaven we assault, nor will we e'er 
 
 Let anger' d Jove forget his thunder. 
 
 IV. 
 
 SOLVITTTE ACKES HIEMS. 
 
 I HE stormy season is at rest, 
 Jfpg And Spring is breathing from the west ; 
 The ships new launched, and altogether, 
 A pleasant change comes o'er the weather. 
 The long pent cattle, with delight 
 Their pastures seek, no longer white 
 With icy winter, and the hind 
 His chimney corner hath resigned. 
 The Nymphs, upon the moonlit mead, 
 Doth the soft Cythersean lead, 
 Linked with the Graces as they go 
 Upon the " light fantastic toe," 
 "While, for those ponderous one-eyed fellows, 
 Her Lord perspiring blows the bellows. 
 Now is the time your glossy hair 
 To bind with Myrtle, or whate'er 
 The flower may be that claims from earth 
 The fragrant season of its birth. 
 
10 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Let us, at Paunus' choice, devote 
 In votive shade, or lamb or goat. 
 Pale death with unrespecting malice, 
 Knocks at the door of hut and palace. 
 Oh pleasant Sextus, life's brief scope 
 Gives little room for lengthened hope ; 
 Mght comes with all its goblin crew, 
 And hell's dark halls, if tales be true. 
 Then shall th' unshaken dice have ceas'd 
 To tell the monarch of the feast, 
 Nor there shall charm, young Lycidases, 
 In turn beloved by lads and lasses. 
 
 V. 
 
 m 
 
 QTJIS MULTA GEACILIS. 
 
 HAT stripling, in ambrosial grot, 
 
 Mid rosy wreaths, that form caresses. 
 For whom fair Pyrrha's fingers knot 
 In simple charm, those sunny tresses ? 
 
 Alas, how many a tear he'll shed, 
 
 When guardian Gods 1 shall faithless flee, 
 
 And storms unlooked for, overspread 
 The dark wave of his destiny. 
 
 1 From the nature of the figure here used, could the " Mutatos 
 Deos" mean the " Fratres Helena?," supposed to protect mariners. 
 (See Bk. I. Ode III.) I have ventured on this interpretation on 
 no better authority than my own. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 11 
 
 "When she, he deem'd the softest- souled, 
 And truest-hearted, leaves him lonely, 
 
 To learn that all he prized as gold, 
 Was but the glittering surface only. 
 
 Ill-fated they who see thee fair, 
 
 With reckless trust believe thee true, 
 
 Then find the heart that others share, 
 The sport of every wind that blew. 
 
 To ^Neptune's sacred fane did we 
 
 With votive step the tablet bring, 
 WTiere all, the pictured garb, may see 
 
 A saturated offering. 
 
 VI. 
 
 SCEIBEEIS VAKIO. 1 
 
 §E Varus the Mseonian swan 
 Agrippa's fame shall soar upon, 
 To sing the triumphs of the brave, 
 On charging steed, or surging wave. 
 Ill suits Pelides' ruthless ire, 
 My modest Muse, and feeble lyre, 
 
 1 This ode is an apology to Agrippa for not having composed 
 anything in his honour. The learned reader will perceive how 
 closelv he has imitated Anacreon. See Ode XXIII. 
 
12 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 Or of stern Pelops' house to speak, 
 Or wand'rings of the crafty Greek, 
 And Caesar's matchless fame, and thine, 
 Would suffer in a lay like mine. 
 But who the God of war shall chaunt, 
 In tunic clothed, of adamant, 
 Merion, begrimed with many a stain 
 From dust of Troy's embattled plain, 
 Or, matched by stern Minerva's aid, 
 With Gods to strive, — great Diomede ? 
 "We sing of banquets, and of scars 
 From pointed nails, 1 in am'rous wars ; 
 Or fancy bound, or fancy free, 
 Whate'er the passing mood may be. 
 
 VII. 
 
 LAUDABUNT ALII. 
 
 ET others in admiring odes, 
 
 Sing Ephesus and sunny Rhodes, 
 Or Mitylene, or the town 
 Of Corinth, whose high ramparts frown 
 
 1 The "prselia virginum in juvenes" must have originally sug- 
 gested to that scientific body the Prize-Bing, the classic expression, 
 " coming to the scratch." This conjecture derives much support 
 from the formidable emendation of Bentley, who prefers " Strictis" 
 in the place of " Sectis," to which opinion the learned Professor of 
 Oxford University seems to incline (p. 132). I have also myself 
 adopted this reading, though practically I would have preferred the 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 13 
 
 O'er severed seas, or it may be, 
 The unrivalled vale of Thessaly, 
 Or Thebes, or Delphi, made divine 
 By Phoebus and the God of wine. 
 To others the sole Task belongs 
 Of chanting in unceasing songs 
 Immaculate ILinerva's towers, 
 And gathering wreaths from olive bowers. 
 Of rich ITycenaB many sing, 
 In Juno's honour, many a string 
 - Is waked to those far fields that feed 
 The mettle of the Argive steed. 
 TThere roams the patient Spartan swain, 
 Where smiles Larissa's fertile plain, 
 Have neither charm so dear to me 
 As the sweet shades of Tivoli ; 
 The rills that round its orchards flow, 
 The murmur of the Anio, 
 And the soft echo of the falls, 
 From Albuneia's mystic 1 walls. 
 
 latter. I do not know if their effects would have been esteemed 
 "honourable scars," or whether a champion so decorated would 
 come under the description, " homo factus ad ungaam." 
 
 1 The temple of the Sybil on the summit of the cliff at Tibur. 
 u Among the arguments in favour of this opinion," says Anthon, 
 " it may be remarked that Yarro, as quoted by Lactantius, (De 
 Fal. Bel. i. 6) gives a list of the ancient sybils ; and amongst them 
 enumerates the one at Tibur, suruamed Albunea, as the tenth and 
 last." He further states, that ' k she was worshipped at Tibur on the 
 banks of the Anio." On the strength of these authorities I have 
 ventured to use the epithet " mystic" as here applied. 
 
14 THE ODES OE HOEACE. 
 
 As South winds oft, in summer hour, 
 
 Dispel the cloud, and dry the shower, 
 
 So Plaucus, in this life of ours, 
 
 Between the changing suns and showers, 
 
 'Tis wisest to enjoy it thro' 
 
 The varying glimpses of its blue, 
 
 And, in the mellowest libations 
 
 To drown its toils and tribulations, 
 
 'Mid camps where glittering standards shine, 
 
 Or shades of Tibur — shades of thine. 
 
 Teucer, when fated to retire 
 
 Erom Salamis and from his sire, 
 
 Did, as they say, his temples twine 
 
 "With crown of poplar bathed in wine ; 
 
 Then to his sad companions, thus 
 
 He said, " Whate'er' s reserved for us, 
 
 Brave friends, whatever gentler fate 
 
 Than my stern sire, our wanderings wait, 
 
 My gallant comrades, ne'er, oh ne'er 
 
 'Neath Tucers' auspices despair, 
 
 Teucer your Chief, who oft with you, 
 
 Severer straits hath struggled thro'. 
 
 In other lands, (so prophecies 
 
 Unerring Phoebus,) there shall rise 
 
 O'er yon far waters, like to this, 
 
 For us, another Salamis. 
 
 Then fill, my friends, and banish sorrow, 
 
 Ton waters wide we trace to-morrow. 
 
THE ODES OF HOBACE. 15 
 
 VIII. 
 LTDIA DIC PEE OKN T ES. 
 H Lydia, by the Gods above, 
 flHiT^ Why TlJ ^ D - Sybaris with love ? 
 
 Why is the heat no more endured 
 To which the youth was once enured, 
 Accouter'd, with his peers, to rein 
 The Gallic steed on dusty plain ? 
 Why dreads he Tiber's yellow flood ? 
 Loathes olive-oil like Viper's blood? 
 The quoit, that arms once black and blue, 
 And spear, beyond the Target, threw ? 
 Why does the truant boy lie hid, 
 As the great son of Thetis did, 
 Ere yet the sons of Ilium dyed 
 Her battle plains with gory tide, 
 Lest he, if like a warrior drest, 
 To fight the Lycians be imprest ? 1 
 
 IX. 
 
 VIDES UT ALTA. 
 
 BEHOLD Soracte's hoary height. The woods 
 
 Droop with their snowy burden, while their 
 
 cold 
 
 1 Horace uses the word " proriperet" herewith great felicity, 
 and I have endeavoured to give it its appropriate rendering. I 
 need not remind the learned reader of the story of Ulysses, and the 
 part he played on the occasion alluded to. The crafty Greek is 
 the earliest Crimp Sargent on record. 
 
16 THE ODES OF HOBACE. 
 
 And slippery surface stills the slumb'ring floods ; 
 Bring faggots, Thaliarchus, nor withhold 
 The cask of mellow Sabine, four years old. 
 Leave warring winds and waters to the will 
 That can control their tumults, and can fold 
 The pinions of the hurricane, until 
 The Cypress cease to wave, and the old ash be still. 
 
 Heed not to-morrow : catch the fleeting pleasure, 
 As so much gained to life, while yet 'tis new, 
 The whispering promenade, the mazy measure, 
 And love, and night ; the nook conceal'd from view, 
 Which the light laugh's betrayal leads you to, 
 When furtive beauty veils the twilight tryste ; 
 Those soft assaults that soothingly subdue 
 The frail resistance of the ravish' d wrist, 
 Or jewel'd hands that all so yieldingly resist. 
 
 X. 
 
 MEKCUEI EACTTNDE. 1 
 
 §H son of Maia, thou, the first to teach 
 The graceful contest, and to humanize 
 Primeval man with the soft gifts of speech, 
 Thee will I sing, bright herald of the skies, 
 
 1 Cicero gives no less than five Mercuries. According to M. 
 Danet (Die. of Greek and Rom. Ant.) Mercurius (dies), Mercredi is 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 17 
 
 Sire of the curved harp, eloquent and wise ! 
 Yet, if it please thee, in a merry craft, 
 Thou dost play off thy roguish pleasantries : 
 Robbed of his kine, loud-threat'ning Phoebus laught, 
 "When thy wild boyish pranks had left him not a shaft. 
 
 Guided by thee did Priam win by stealth, 
 Thro' Atreus' haughty sons his perilous way ; 
 And thro* Thessalian sentinels, his wealth 
 Bore he, while Ilium's walls behind him lay ; 
 And the dim watchfires shed their fitful ray 
 O'er the still slumbers of the tented foe. 
 Thy golden wand the shadowy crowd obey, 
 That points the seats where happy spirits go, 
 Oh thou, to Gods above endeared, and Gods below. 
 
 XI. 
 
 TU NE QUAESIEEIS. 
 
 ASK not Chaldea's mystic lore 
 JiPC To learn what length our days may be, 
 ^g*J>gk 'Tis fit we bear, but not explore, 
 What Fate reserves, Leuconoe. 
 
 so called because the planet Mercury reigns in the first hour 
 thereof, according to the opinion of those who allow of planetary 
 hours. The Saxons also had their Mercury, as appears by the 
 following passage from Geo. of Monmouth : " Saxones autum 
 adorabant Deos, prsesertim Mercuriam, quern lingua sua Woden 
 appellabant cui septimanee quartam feriam dicarunt, quam ex 
 nomine ejus Wodensday vocabant." 
 
18 
 
 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 If many a year be ours, or if 
 
 The storm, that yonder wintry waves, 
 Rolls o'er Etruria's surf-worn cliff, 
 
 Wail wildly o'er our early graves. 
 
 Life is at best a narrow scope ; 
 
 E'en as we speak, the moments flee : 
 Bring wine, nor trust to distant hope, 
 
 The hour is all to thee and me. 
 
 
 XII. 
 QTJEM VISUM AUT HEROA. 
 
 * 
 
 HAT man, what hero, wilt thou choose ? 
 What God, whose praise, celestial Muse, 
 Thy lyre shall wake on Pindus' hill, 
 Or pipe, to echos wild and shrill, 
 As sportively they swell upon 
 The shady heights of Helicon ? 
 Or where the Thracian charm'd of yore 
 (Learn' d in his mother's lyric lore) 
 The listening oaks, the tempests sway'd, 
 Or rivers rapid rush delayed, 
 As wand'ring woods his song pursu'd 
 O'er Hsemus' snowy solitude. 
 Whose shall the wonted hymn inspire 
 Before his praise, the Lord and Sire 
 
 : 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 19 
 
 Of Gods and men, the world, the seas, 
 
 Seasons, and their varieties, 
 
 Who nothing greater, none so great, 
 
 Second, or like, can generate ? 
 
 Minerva next, and next to her, 
 
 Bacchus, the valiant warrior : 
 
 jNor of the maid shall I be mute, 
 
 Pursuer of the savage brute ; 
 
 Nor of thy formidable art, 
 
 Oh Phoebus ! of th' unerring dart : 
 
 And great Alcides shall be sung, 
 
 And the fam'd twins, from Leda sprung, 
 
 In horsemanship one fam'd for skill, 
 
 One, in the lists invincible, 
 
 "Whose pallid star at evening guides 
 
 The wand'rer o'er th' JEgean tides, 
 
 And quells the wrath of sea and sky, 
 
 And lulls them to tranquillity. 
 
 What next shall claim the votive strain ? 
 
 Romulus', or the gentle reign 
 
 Of Numa, Tarquin's haughty sway, 
 
 Or Cato's fall, 'tis hard to say. 
 
 In grateful strains, I'll sing the glory 
 
 Of Eegulus, and of the Scauri, . 
 
 And Paullus, prodigal to yield 
 
 His mighty soul on Cannae's field ; 
 
 Camillus, too, I'll celebrate, 
 
 And Curius of the shaggy pate, 
 
20 THE ODES OE HORACE. 
 
 And brave Pabricius. Poor their lot, 
 
 Small heritage, and hnmble cot. 1 
 
 Marcellus' fame is as the tree, 
 
 Increasing imperceptibly : 
 
 The Julian star, as Luna's light, 
 
 Among the feebler fires of night. 
 
 Oh son of Saturn, unto thee 
 
 Pate gives great Caesar's destiny ; 
 
 Of mortals, thou the Lord and parent, 
 
 And Caesar here be thy vicegerent ; 
 
 Whether the Parthians threatening Rome, 
 
 By triumph just, be overcome, 
 
 Or Serican, or Indian host 
 
 Be quell' d on Oriental^ coast. 
 
 Thou, that o'er vast Olympus rollest 
 
 Thy thundering car, his power controllest 
 
 Alone. — Thy arm red vengeance showers 
 
 On lawless love's unhallowed bowers. 
 
 1 Milton puts into the mouth of the Saviour the names of those 
 heroes with whom he confronts Satan in reference to the tempta- 
 tions of power and riches. 
 
 " Can'st thou not rememher 
 Quintius, Fahricius, Curius, Regulus, 
 For I esteem those names of men so poor, 
 "Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 
 Riches, tho' offered from the hand of kings." — Far. Reg. 
 
THE ODES OE HORACE. 21 
 
 XIII. 
 CUM TTJ, LYDIA. 
 
 ^§vj? H Lydia ! when thou praisest thus, 
 
 Sir ^ Vh ^"^ e ros ^ nec "^ °^ Telephus, 
 <§°-T& ) And Telephus's arms of wax, 
 A jealous pang my bosom racks. 
 My brain is turned, my colour goes, 
 The secret tear my cheek overflows, 
 Each bearing witness in its turn, 
 What wasting flames my bosom burn. 
 It sears my very soul within, 
 Lest riot stain that snowy skin, 
 Or wine provoke th' intemperate bliss 
 That leaves behind the bleeding kiss ; 
 If you'll believe me, love so rude 
 Toward lips that nectar hath embued 
 With Beauty's fifth, 1 you may not hope 
 With wedded constancy to cope. 
 
 1 Anthem quotes the observations of Porson against the common 
 interpretation of the " Quinta parte," which I think, according to 
 the account he gives, is reasonable as well as literal. Mr. Newman 
 says, in a note on this passage (page 42), that the human spirit 
 was supposed to be "hot vapour, of which there was, according to 
 a more refined philosophy, a more subtile quintessence." It would 
 furnish a valuable addition to scientific discovery if this " quintes- 
 sence" of steam could be infused into our locomotives, etc., and 
 thus be the means of converting the Pythagorean into a utilitarian 
 Philosophy. It would unquestionably be a great advancement to the 
 cause of progress could the migrations of the body be accelerated 
 through the ^emigrations of the soul. 
 
22 THE ODES OF HOUACE. 
 
 Thrice blest that holy tie ! unbroken 
 By words ill-timed, unkindly spoken, 
 Prom every storm and strife defended, 
 That only ends when all is ended. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 NAVIS, EEPEEENT. 
 
 H ship ! would 7 st quit thy port anew 
 To brave again disastrous tides ? 
 Oh what in madness would' st thou do, 
 Thus oarless launch thy naked sides ? 
 
 Thy wounded mast the South wind strains, 
 The spars 'mid tattered canvass creak, 
 
 Thy keel ungirded, scarce sustains 
 The sweeping surges as they break. 
 
 !No Gods to guard thee o'er the wave, 
 
 Thy planks tho' pine from Pontus brought, 
 
 Their birth, though noble forests gave, 
 Nor name, nor race, avail thee aught. 
 
 Oh thou, so late the weary source 
 Of many a pang, this caution learn — 
 
 Trust not to varying winds thy course, 
 No sailor trusts in painted stern. 
 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 23 
 
 Source now of tenderest care, may you 
 Still wisely shun those treach'rous seas, 
 
 And all the dangers that bestrew 
 The shining cliffs of Cyclades. 
 
 XV. 
 
 PASTOE CUM TEAHEEET. 
 
 }££&MTIE winds are hush'd, th' Idean sail 
 ^ij|§ Elaps idly o'er JEgean waters, 
 W$Ek While Nereus' boding strains reveal 
 
 To the false swain the fearful tale 
 Of fate, from that ill-fated tide 
 That bears the hostess and the bride, 
 
 The loveliest of Sparta's daughters. 
 
 Ill omen'd is the hour when roams 
 The frail one to her distant homes, 
 Eor many a hero Greece shall send 
 Those guilty nuptials sworn to rend, 
 And Priam's ancient race and realm 
 In Dardan blood to overwhelm. 
 Alas, what reeking hands shall rein 
 The foaming steed on battle plain ; 
 With whetted rage see Pallas now, 
 With chariot, shield, and helmed-brow. 
 
24 THE ODES OF HOBACE. 
 
 In vain, with Yenus on your side, 
 On haughty brows soft curls divide ; 
 In vain you wake the lyre, so dear 
 Its gentle tones to woman's ear ; 
 In vain thy softer soul eschews 
 Where Ajax swift of foot pursues ; 
 The din of battle, and the gleam 
 
 Of spears, amid the barbed shower 
 Erom Cretan quivers, ill beseem 
 
 The dalliance of a nuptial bower ; 
 But Ah, tho' late, yet come they must, 
 Those wanton tresses to the dust ! 
 Laertes' son before thee view, 
 Thy nation fated to undo ; 
 Merion, and Pylion Nestor too, 
 "With dauntless rage thy steps pursue : 
 And Sthenelus, well skilled in deeds 
 Of arms ; to guide the foaming steeds 
 No worthless charioteer Iwis, 
 And Teucer king of Salamis. 
 Behold Tydides in his ire, 
 A warrior mightier than his Sire, 
 Whom ny'st thou, as the trembling hart 
 That from the vale's remotest part, 
 The prowling wolf astonish' d sees, 
 And heedless of his pasture, flees 
 Breathless— unlike the boastful pride 
 That woo'd and won an erring bride. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 25 
 
 Awhile, Achilles' wrath delays 
 
 The last of Ilium's numbered days ; 
 
 A few short years, and Troy's proud dames 
 
 Shall Greece's vengeful rage destroy, 
 And leave no trace beyond its names, 
 
 Save ashes of what once was Troy. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 MATEE PULCHRA. 
 
 IVE to the flames my guilty lay, 
 ({|S^ Thou, a fair mother's lovelier daughter, 
 \k&^3> Or let it wash its guilt away 
 In Adria's atoning water. 
 
 Not Phoebus' priest, with rage divine, 
 Feels in his breast such trepidation, 
 
 Nor he that from the God of wine 
 Imbibes the wildest inspiration, 
 
 Nor, when Cybele's rite demands 
 
 The Corybantes' brazen clangour, 
 So madly beat their cymbal' d hands, 
 
 As woman's bosom in her anger. 
 
 Nor Styrian steel its fury quells, 
 
 Nor Jupiter's tremendous thunder, 
 Nor the huge wave that yawns and swells, 
 
 To rend the shipwreck' d bark asunder. 
 
26 THE ODES OE HORACE. 
 
 Prometheus, when, as legends say, 
 
 He something took from every creature, 
 
 To blend with man's primeval clay, 
 Spared not the lion's angry nature. 
 
 'Twas anger laid Thyestes low, 
 
 Eid many a stately city fall, 
 And drove the ploughshare of the foe 
 
 Exulting o'er the ruined wall. 
 
 Forgive the wrong my lyre bemoans, 
 
 "Which youth and passion wrought for thee, 
 
 Henceforth I'll wake its tenderest tones, 
 To win thee back to love and me. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 VELOX AMOENUM. 
 
 f%SJi S the nimble Faunus ranges, 
 Sflpf Oft my gentle Tyndaris, 
 «£s£k> Mount Lycaeus he exchanges 
 
 For the dear Lucretilis : 
 Still the ever- watchful patron, 
 
 Thro' the thickets where they browse, 
 Of each wandering, shaggy matron 
 
 Of the strongly smelling spouse ; 
 From the summer's sun defending, 
 
 And the tempest-driven showers, 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 27 
 
 As thro' thyme and arbute wending, 
 
 Safe they crop the hidden flowers. 
 Nor where adders green assemble, 
 
 Shall my kids be frighted, nor 
 At the gannt wolf shall they tremble, 
 
 Sacred to the God of war, 
 "While the sportive echo dallies 
 
 Over mountain, over mead, 
 Thro' Ustica's smooth-rocked vallies, 
 
 Prom the music of his reed. 
 
 The Gods befriend me ; my sweet measures 
 
 And devotion please them still ; 
 Eural honours, rural treasures, 
 
 Thou shalt have them to thy fill. 
 In this lone vale shaded over 
 
 From the summer's burning ray, 
 Circe, for her wandering lover 
 
 Striving with Penelope, 
 While in Teian numbers singing, 
 
 Let the Lesbian cup be quaff'd, 
 No intemp'rate quarrels bringing, 
 
 In the mildness of its draught. 
 
 Hidden here, lascivious Cyrus, 
 
 Too ungentle to withstand, 
 On thee, howsoe'er desirous, 
 
 Layeth not licentious hand ; 
 
28 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 IS or shall rend he the wreath' d border, 
 Twined where wancl'ring tresses float, 
 
 Nor one touch of his disorder 
 Thy ofFenceless petticoat. 
 
 XVIII. 
 NULLAM, VAEE. 
 
 >^^OTJND the walls of Catillus, Oh Yams ! no tree, 
 «Yn&!i Like the vine's sacred plant, should he cherish' d 
 ~s&t^r by thee, 
 
 Or in Tibur's rich soil, for we only escape 
 Prom the sorrows of life by the juice of the grape. 
 
 Will the soldier at poverty pause to repine, 
 IS or praise the enchantments of woman and wine ? 
 But that none should abuse their soft influence, think 
 How the Centaurs and Lapithse fought in their drink. 
 Again, too, the anger of Bacchus we trace 
 In the unscrupulous sons of libidinous Thrace. 
 Pair God, I indulge no excesses forbidden, 1 
 Nor from leaf-shaded shrines draw the myteries hidden, 
 ISor for me shall the horn of the Phrygean be found, 
 With the clash of the cymbal to mingle its sound, 
 
 1 "These orgies,'' says Mr. Newman (p. 127), "simple hearted 
 and deep in their Asiatic birthplace, became perverted in Greece, 
 and linked themselves with crime in Rome." 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 29 
 
 That ushers vain-glory and blind self-esteem, 
 "Which still make the brainless and arrogant seem 
 In the pride of their own empty heads to surpass, 
 While in things they should hide, they're transparent as 
 
 glass. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 MATER SJEYA CTJPIDLNTOI. 
 
 KS^glHE cruel mother of the loves 
 
 M^fe ^y stubborn chastity reproves ; 
 
 '&!$&> And soft licentiousness, and he, 
 
 The son of Theban Semele, 
 
 Have bade those truant fires return 
 
 That for a season ceas'd to burn. 
 
 The splendour of those glowing charms 
 
 Of Glycera, my bosom warms ; 
 
 Those dazzling looks, from features thrown, 
 
 Of hue as pure as Parian stone, 
 
 That vary still with every mood, 
 
 And please in each vicissitude. 
 
 How Scythians fight, or Parthians fly 
 
 Upon their nimble coursers, I 
 
 Xo longer have the power to sing, 
 
 Or any other worthless thing. 
 
 Here, boy, the blessed turf pile up, 
 Wine, two years old shall crown the cup : 
 
30 THE ODES OE HOE ACE. 
 
 Let incense rise, and vervain twine 
 The living verdure of the shrine : 
 A lover's offering shall beguile 
 Eelenting beauty of a smile. 
 
 
 XX. 
 
 YILE POTABIS. 
 
 ^SjpS^LEDGE me, dear Knight, 1 a Sabine cup : 
 %yjr&fr I seal'd the homely liquor up 
 lk&£4t Myself, that very day, when far 
 Resounding from the theatre, 
 The loud applause, exulting ran, 
 From Tiber to the Vatican, 
 Until the lingering echoes died 
 Upon thy own ancestral tide. 
 
 1 The title of Eques, or Knight, was that on which Maecenas as 
 "first commoner " chiefly prided himself. The Equestrian order is one 
 of very ancient institution. From the Indians, Chaldeans, Syrians, 
 and Persians, it passed into Greece and Italy, and existed in Eome 
 in the time of Boumlus. It came into Britain with the Romans. 
 After their departure, Arthur, King of the Britains, added a still 
 higher dignity to the character of Knighthood, hy making it the 
 reward of merit ; and that it might he paramount to every other 
 distinction, instituted the Bound Table, where no precedence could 
 he observed. From this celebrated prince sprung the line of the 
 Tudors, through which the reigning family possess a more legiti- 
 mate, as well as more ancient title, than that derived from the 
 Conquest. We should not omit to mention the celebrated champions 
 of Emania, or Knights of the Bed Branch, who flourished in the 
 kingdom of Uladh, or Ulster, during the time of Augustus. See 
 0' Bailor an. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 31 
 
 Thy crips the Coecuban shall bless, 
 And vintage from Calenian press ; 
 !Nor Formian, nor Falernian hill, 
 Do my more humble goblets fill. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 DIAjSTAM te^eile. 
 
 .^vp&E virgins, sing Diana's praise; 
 
 ^ \\o^ ^ e y ou ^ ns > ^ ne son » ^° Cynthius raise, 
 ^$XZ And to Latona, who could move, 
 The passion of Almighty Jove. 
 
 To her who loves the shady floods, 
 Meand'ring thro' the leafy woods, 
 That hang on Algidus's chill, 
 And Erymanthus , shadowy hill, 
 Or Cragus green ; and not the less, 
 Ye boys, in quivered gracefulness, 
 Apollo, o'er whose shoulders slung, 
 Hangs the sweet shell his brother strung ; 
 "With equal praise be Tempe sung, 
 And Delos where Apollo sprung. 
 
 Moved by your prayers, shall war be banish'd, 
 Disease and hunger shall have vanish' d 
 (Csesar our Prince) for evermore 
 To Persia and Britannia's shore. 
 
32 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 INTEGEB VIT.E. 
 
 fHAT man, oh Aristius, whose conscience is pure, 
 Neither needs he the bow nor the shaft of the Moor ; 
 'Mid the heat of the desert he safely may start, 
 TJnoppressed with the quiver, or poisonous dart ; 
 Or where the rude Caucasus offers no home 
 To the houseless and weary, secure may he roam ; 
 Or by those wizard waters, whose storied career 
 Wafts their mystical waves through the vale of Cashmere. 
 
 Thro' the deep Sabine shades as a truant I roved, 
 And listlessly sang of the girl that I lov'd, 
 Not in parched plains of Juba, where lions are nursed, 
 Are such wolves as the one that ferociously burst 
 Erom the thicket before me; a monster more grim, 
 Never prowl' d over Daunia's wild forests than him. 
 And yet, though with naught but integrity arm'd, 
 He fled from my presence, and left me unharm'd. 
 
 In some wilderness place me, all wild tho' it be, 
 "Where soft zephyrs revive not one perishing tree, 
 Whose darkness and cloud not a beam struggles thro', 
 And where heaven never opens one glimpse of its blue ; — 
 To some region transport me, all burning, and far 
 Erom the dwellings of man, 'neath the sun's glowing car, 
 Still my Lalage's love every clime shall beguile, 
 As I hang on her accents and bask in her smile. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 33 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 VITAS HIIOTTLEO. 
 
 Y Chloe flies, like wild gazelle 
 That seeks its dam thro' mountain dell, 
 Starting, as vernal breezes shake 
 The early foliage of the brake ; 
 Or onward, as with trembling knees, 
 And beating heart she timid flees, 
 From the green lizards as they scramble 
 In sportive tumult thro' the bramble. 
 Ko lion grim or tiger wild 
 Am I ; I would not harm thee, child : 
 Then from Mamma do let me lure you ; 
 You're not too young, I can assure you. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 QUIS DESIDEKIO. 
 
 HY blush, that many a fruitless tear 
 Should fall uncheck'd for one so dear ? 
 Oh give the saddest strain to me 
 That mourns the dead, Melpomene, 
 Who dost inherit from thy sire, 
 His melting voice and trembling lyre. 
 Oh, Varus, art thou then consign' d 
 To endless sleep ! "Where shall we find 
 
 3 
 
34 THE ODES OE HORACE. 
 
 Those sister virtues, Faith that ne'er 
 Corruption knew, and Justice ? "Where 
 The modest worth that lowly lies, 
 And truth that never sought disguise ? 
 
 Ey many a good man wept is he, 
 By none, Virgil, more than thee : 
 Yain prayer, that fain would cheat the tomb, 
 For heaven but lent him, to resume. 
 
 Hadst thou the Thracian's art, to move 
 Ey charm of song, the listening grove, 
 The vital current, never more 
 To the pale shade could' st thou restore, 
 "Which once the unrelenting God, 
 Unmov'd by prayers, with horrid rod, 
 Ey Fate's decree hath driven along, 
 To mingle with the shadowy throng. 
 Hard ! Eut by patience only, we 
 Sustain the ills we may not nee. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 PARCITJS JUNCTAS. 
 
 ^ OUNG gallants knock not now in numbers, 
 At casements bar'd, to break thy slumbers, 
 
 SWw- 
 
 For whom thy gates flew wide, until 
 
 Of late, enamour' d of their sill, 
 
 
THE ODES OE HORACE. 
 
 We seldom hear poor devils sighing, 
 " Can Lydia sleep while I am dying ?" 
 
 When winds blow keen from moonless sky, 
 And yonth is fled, and lovers fly, 
 Tho' doom'd to whine in scanty gown, 
 Among the bye- ways of the town, 
 Not fiercer fury fires the blood 
 Of genial mothers of the stud. 
 
 Thou' It grieve to find each lusty wight 
 In the green myrtle take delight, 
 And verdant ivy, while they vow 
 To wintry winds, the wither' d bough. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 MUSIS AMICUS. 
 
 £|^W N wanton winds, and Cretan seas, 
 
 ftSS-^P Who Tiridates dreads, who reigns, 
 Chill Despot of the polar plains, 
 Doth not disquiet in the least, 
 The tuneful Sister's placid priest. 
 
 By the sweet Muse, whose pure delight 
 Is in the fountain clear and bright, 
 Be my own Lamia's temples crowned 
 With sunniest flowers that blossom round. 
 
36 THE ODES OF H0BACE. 
 
 Eut if their power no aid affords 
 
 My new-strung lyre, my Lesbian strain, 
 
 In vain I touch the useless chords, 
 And Lamia's praise were sung in vain. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 25TATIS m TJSUM. 
 
 10 quarrel in our cups, which we 
 
 ftK Were given for hours of festive glee ! 
 
 Save modest Eacchus from such Thracian, 
 Such barbarous, blood-stained profanation : 
 Kor wine nor candles should " environ" 
 The Mede "who meddles with cold iron." 
 
 Now, friends, your couches press in quiet, 
 And be there no unseemly riot. 
 
 Of the Palernian, if I fill a 
 Stiff glass, the brother of Megilla, 
 The fair Opuntian, shall name 
 To ears discreet, his tender flame, 
 And tell whose love- entrancing dart, 
 So sweetly fatal, wounds his heart. 
 
 Is"ow, then — Out with it — Do you shrink ? 
 Upon no other terms I drink. 
 Come, don't be bashful. She will prove 
 A damsel worthy of your love. 
 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 37 
 
 Gramercy ! into what a sad 
 Charybdis hast thou plung'd. Poor lad! 
 Deserving of a lot less evil 
 Than to be yoked to that she-devil. 
 
 What drug Thessalian, witch, Magician, 
 What God can snatch thee from perdition ! 
 'T would give, to compass your escape 
 From that Chimaera's triple shape, 
 WTiose fatal bonds encircle you, 
 The winged-horse enough to do. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 TE MARIS ET TERRAE. 
 
 Sailor. 
 
 fHEE, who could' st measure seas and lands, 
 The vaulted heaven, th' unnumbered sands, 
 A little dust could disenthrall, 
 Archytas, — and the gift were small. 
 
 What, if thy genius once could soar, 
 Aerial mansions to explore, 
 If now thy solitary ghost 
 Must wander o'er Matinum's coast. 
 
 Archytas. 
 
 The sire of Pelops died, altho' 
 The guest of Gods ; and even so, 
 
38 THE ODES OP HOEACE. 
 
 Tithonus borne to realms above, 
 And Minos confidant of Jove. 
 The son of Panthus, too, hath sped 
 Once more to mansions of the dead, 
 Altho' the sage resumed the shield 
 That witness' d many a Trojan field, 
 And proved that flesh alone could be 
 The victim of mortality. 
 No mean authority, with thee, 
 Of Nature, or of Truth, was he. 
 
 One path, once trod, without a ray 
 To cheer its dark and dismal way, 
 Awaits us all. The Furies yield 
 The soldier to the ghastly field ; 
 The sailor feeds the greedy brine, 
 No head escapes dread Proserpine ; 
 The old, the young, in mingled doom 
 Crowd the grim portals of the tomb, 
 And fierce Orion's stormy wane 
 Hath given me to th' Illyrian main. 
 
 With no malignant heart will you, 
 Sailor, refuse some sand, to strew 
 This head — these bones without a grave ! 
 So many Yenusian forests wave, 
 When eastern tempests madly chafe 
 Hesperian waves, yet thou be safe ; 
 And Jove, and Neptune ruling o'er 
 Tarentum, multiply your store. 
 
THE ODES OF HOE ACE. 39 
 
 JSo expiation shall repair 
 
 The wrong of my unpitied prayer ; 
 
 Then let a pious duty stay 
 
 Thy hastening steps, with brief delay. 
 
 Here pause, and thrice, with hurried hand, 
 
 Bestrew the funereal sand, 
 
 Lest a proud retribution be 
 
 On thee and thy posterity. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 ICCI BEATIS. 
 
 gkJ^jj H Iccius, Oh Iccius, their treasures afar, 
 &(nlw^ To the Arabs invite thee, with promise of war ; 
 7(^Y@ 'Gainst the monarchs of Saba unconquer'd, to 
 
 speed, 
 And thou forgest new chains for the terrible Mede. 
 
 What maid, whose affianced thou' It slay, shall be thine ? 
 What sweet-scented courtier-boy bear thee thy wine ? 
 Well skill' d to direct, should the victor require, 
 The Serican shaft from the bow of his Sire. 
 Who shall wonder if Tiber reverses his course, 
 Or the torrent flows back to its mountainous source, 
 When he who delighted to dwell among sages, 
 Who purchased and pondered Pancetius's pages, 
 And one, of such learn' d antecedents, would fain 
 Their places supply with the armour of Spain ? 
 
40 THE ODES OF HOBACE. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 YENTJS. 1 
 
 <g^g)TTEEN of Paphos, Queen of smiles, 
 
 ww/ Q u ^> on WE&i ^ n y favourite isles ; 
 ©£p!f3 Come, with that glowing child of thine, 
 To Glycera's ambrosial shrine. 
 
 There, be the Nymphs and Graces found, 
 "With charms unveil'd, and zones unbound, 
 And Love, and Youth, which, reft of thee, 
 jS"o charm can boast, — and Mercury. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 QUID DEDICATTJM. 
 
 HAT gift shall the poet request, who adores 
 At the shrine of Apollo, what prayer offer 
 up? 
 "What boon shall he ask, as he votively pours 
 
 The first sparkling libation that flows from his cup ? 
 
 1 According to Cicero (De Nat. Deo.) there were four Venus's. 
 The fourth was the Ashtoreth of the Phoenicians, who, according 
 to Heeren and many learned authorities, penetrated to the remote 
 western regions to which their commerce extended. She was 
 known to the Greeks as Astarte (hinc aa-rrjp), and she is still traced 
 in Ireland, in the endearing word " Asthore." See O'Brien on 
 the Bound Towers of Ireland, p. 213. 
 
THE ODES OF HOBACE. 41 
 
 It is not the wealth of Sardinia's rich fields, 
 Nor of flocks that in sunny Calabria stray, 
 
 Nor that Lid's golden treasure, or ivory yields, 
 Or those plains the calm Lyris eats mutely away. 
 
 Prune Cales' choice vines, ye whom fortune hath blest, 
 Let the merchant from bowls that in gold have been 
 wrought, 
 Pledge the gods, when thrice saved from the waves of 
 the west, 
 In wines which the traffic of Spia hath bought. 
 
 Plain succories, olives, soft mallows, in bliss 
 Can the hour of my simple reflection employ, 
 
 Then son of Latona, grant, grant me but this, 
 That the little I have, I have health to enjoy. 
 
 In the evening of life, that with intellect clear, 
 O'er the light of my spirit, no shade may be flung, 
 
 Nor an old age inglorious may close my career, 
 Nor my frame be unnerved, nor my harp be unstrung. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 POSCDXTJR. 
 
 r P oft together we have play'd, 
 
 J(jf^ -^ n ^ e nour > an< i na PPy shade, 
 S^S^/ If, from those fond embraces, some 
 Sweet lays shall live long years to come, 
 

 42 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 Now then, my gentle Barbiton, 1 
 
 A Latin song — we're call'd npon. 
 
 Such as first sang, 'mid war's alarms, 
 
 The Lesbian chief, tho' fierce in arms, 
 
 Or, anchoring on the sandy ooze 
 
 His storm-toss' d bark, he wak'd the Muse 
 
 To Venus and the child divine 
 
 Ne'er absent, and the God of wine, 
 
 And Lycus of the soft black eye, 
 
 And clust'ring curls of darkest dye. 
 
 Sweet shell, Apollo's pride, above, 
 Dear to the feasts of mighty Jove, 
 And solace, in this world of care, 
 Still aid my song, and hear my prayer. 
 
 1 The lyre is the most ancient of all musical contrivances. Its 
 origin is attributed to Mercury and a host of others. The harp and 
 barbiton are varieties of the same instrument. The barbiton, which 
 the poet here addresses, according to Athenaeus, was the invention 
 of the Teian bard (to evprjfjLa rov Avaxpeovros) . The silver harp, 
 which was the guerdon of the successful competitors in the once 
 celebrated Eisteddfodd (the British Olympic), was in the possession 
 of Sir Roger Mostyn in Pennant's time. Powel tells us that 
 Gryffydd ap Cynan brought out of Ireland "divers cunning 
 musicians, who devised all the instrumental music" then used. 
 "With all respect to our Sister Kingdom," says Mr. Pennant, "I 
 must imagine, that if our instruments were not originally British, 
 we were copyists from the Romans, who, again, took their instru- 
 ments from the Greeks." It is remarkable that in our own time 
 the harp should be associated with the national feelings still 
 cherished by those two kindred races, now becoming absorbed into 
 that which they had so long and successfully resisted, against such 
 overwhelming odds; and like the Romans, whose power the an- 
 cient inhabitants of Britain so valiantly withstood, are now dying 
 out in their turn, in accordance with the gradual progress of 
 human degeneration. Sic transit ! 
 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 43 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 ALBI, KE DOLEAS. 
 
 IBULLTJS, now no more awaken 
 
 The sweetness of thy sorrowing strain, 
 By tickle Grlycera forsaken, 
 Eesign her to a younger swain. 
 
 The fair Lycoris burns for Cyrus, 
 - The maiden of the tiny brow, 1 
 For Pholoe is he desirous, 
 
 The rugged maid that spurns his vow. 
 
 For sooner savage wolves, that over 
 
 Appulias's fearful forest prowl, 
 In timid goat shall find a lover, 
 
 Than Pholoe, in one so foul. 
 
 'Tis thus the Goddess frail hath sported 
 
 "With many a heart in bitter joke, 
 Sent forms and tempers ill-assorted, 
 
 To struggle in the brazen yoke. 
 
 1 Some are of opinion that the -word " tenui" as here used b) r 
 Horace, is to be understood merely as an epithet of endearment, 
 and not in the unphrenological literality of a contracted forehead. 
 Torrentius takes it to be synonymous with the airaXov of Anacreon 
 (Ode XXIX.) which Moore, however, considers incorrect. 
 
44 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Myself, while courted by a better, 
 Fair Myrtale, by birth a slave, 
 
 Hath bound in love's delicious fetter, 
 Tho' fierce as Adria's winding wave. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 PAECXJS DEORTTM. 
 
 TJFF'D up by wisdom's silly airs, 
 j|? I seldom deign' d to say my prayers 
 But finding I had gone astray, 
 Was fain to steer another way. 
 For when with lightning's lurid glare 
 The Heavenly Father fills the air, 
 The clouds it mostly bursts asunder ; 
 But late he bade the booming thunder, 
 Thro' heaven's unclouded azure, rattle 
 Its flying car and flaming cattle. 
 The shock disturbed the wand'ring fountains, 
 From Styx to the Atlantic mountains, 
 Made horrid Taenarus to shake, 
 And caused the very earth to quake. 
 Great Providence, in many cases, 
 The lowly lifts, the high displaces ; 
 And Fortune, borne on pinion loud, 
 Will strip the temples of the proud, 
 And oft delights she to bestow 
 Those ravish'd honours on the low. 
 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 45 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 DIVA GRATU1L 
 
 ®^y H, Goddess stern, fair Autumn reigning o'er, 
 S(ivil^ Ever at hand, to ruin or restore, 
 itty® Bid the fallen wretch his happier lot resume, 
 Or level greatness with the silent tomb. 
 
 On thee, with anxious prayer, the sons of toil, 
 That plough Carpathian wave, or stubborn soil, 
 With, pointed share, or Thynian vessel call, 
 Euler of each, and arbitress of all. 
 Cities and states would fain thine aid procure, 
 The Latian hero, and the Dacian boor : 
 Thy power austere the savage Scythian tames, 
 And purpled offspring of barbaric dames. 
 
 Spurn not beneath thy unrelenting heel, 
 The stately column of the commonweal ; 
 Nor brook tumultuous cry of factious men, 
 That calls to arms, to arms, the wavering citizen. 
 
 Before thy steps, in grim procession see, 
 Thy constant handmaid, dire Necessity : 
 Clutch' d in the tension of her brazen grasp, 
 Huge spikes and wedges, and the bracing clasp, 
 Around whose strained and iron gripe is shed, 
 The firming fusion of the liquid lead. 
 
 Hope, rob'd in white, and rare fidelity, 
 E'en in thy anger fondly cling to thee, 
 
46 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 "When thou, no more in stately halls array'd, 
 Dost " flaunt in rags, that fluttered in brocade." 
 
 Thy failing favours ever yet portend 
 The faithless wanton, and the hollow friend : 
 The worthless crowd, whom well-filled pitchers please, 
 Who drained their plenty, will desert the lees, 
 Nor, 'mid the dregs of vanish' d joys, will those 
 "Who shared your pleasures wait to soothe your woes. 
 
 Preserve great Caesar, now about to steer 
 Where distant Britain bounds this nether sphere, 
 And young recruits, whose terror stretches o'er 
 The Eastern regions, to the Eed Sea shore. 
 
 Alas, it shames me, this fraternal rage ; 
 What guilt is wanting to our ruthless age ? 
 What do our youth, of evil actions shun ? 
 What " crime and outrage " have they left undone r 
 What altars free from their impieties, 
 Without the fear of God before their eyes ? 
 Oh, on new anvils forge our blunted swords, 
 Against the Scythian and Arabian hordes. 
 
 XXXYI. 
 
 ET THTJEE, ET EIDIBUS. 
 
 ^$^g5iIS sweet to offer, while the blood 
 
 m 
 
 Mgg Of steerling pours the votive flood, 
 f!§£ Both song and incense, to appease 
 [Numida's guardian deities, 
 
THE ODES OF HOKACE. 47 
 
 Who, from the farthest shores of Spain, 
 Eevisits cherish' d friends again ; 
 And many an old familiar face 
 Is press' d by many a fond embrace, 
 But none than Lamia's more fond : 
 In youth, together they had con'd, 
 Under one Master, wisdom's page, 
 And chang'd their gowns in riper age. 
 
 This happy day in white be chalk' d, 
 Nor be th' unfailing pitcher balk'd, 
 Nor, Salian-like, 1 shall respite be 
 To dancing and festivity ; 
 Nor Damalis, in Thracian glasses 
 Eor prowess fam'd, shall conquer Eassus. 
 Here 'mid the banquet shall be seen 
 The parsley's long-enduring green, 
 And here shall blend their transient hour, 
 The purple and the pallid flower. 
 
 Each eye, dissolv'd in melting bliss, 
 
 1 A curious state of things arises from time to time in the 
 western portion of the kingdom, so whimsically analogous, that 
 I am surprised the witty little hunchback, or his facetious contem- 
 porary, has not long since got hold of it. After the example of the Salii 
 or priests of Mars (the Church Militant, I presume, of the antients), 
 the refractory disciples of those geographically ultramarine, and 
 spiritually ultramontane parts, have literally given to the Apostles of 
 the "Mission" the identical designation which furnishes a con- 
 venient rhyme in our succeeding ode : and to make the resemblance 
 still more amusing, from the Saliares dapes, they have received an 
 additional appellation derived from the cuisine. In further illus- 
 tration of this characteristically pugnacious subject, see also Schre- 
 velius, Art. TIoAe/MKos bellicosus (nine Angl. Jpolcnwft.) 
 
48 THE ODES OF HOBACE. 
 
 Its swimming gaze, on Damalis 
 Now fondly turns, who, all unmoved, 
 Clings to the one so lately lov'd ; 
 "Whose strong embrace, like ivy twin'd, 
 No rival lover shall unbind. 
 
 XXXYII. 
 
 NUNC EST EIBENDUM. 
 
 OME fill, my friends, and let us beat 
 The ground with unremitting feet. 
 This is the time the Gods to feast 
 
 With dainties that would gorge a priest 
 
 Of doughty Mars : the jolly Jumpers 
 
 We'll imitate, in brimming bumpers. 
 Ere now 'twas sinful for a man 
 
 To broach paternal Coecuban, 
 
 W^ile the mad Queen prepared the fall 
 
 Of Rome and of the Capitol, 
 
 And hoped, with fortune's favours drunk, 
 
 To set the Empire in a funk ; 
 
 Whose warriors vile pollute the seas, 
 
 Infected with a foul disease ; 
 
 But when nigh all her ships were burned, 
 
 Her fury then to terror turned, 
 
 As in her wake our Caesar sped, 
 
 The native reeling in her head. 
 

 THE ODES OF HORACE. 49 
 
 While pigeon-like she tries to balk 
 Pursuit, he follows like a hawk, 
 Or hunter who pursues the flight 
 Of hare on Hemon's snowy height, 
 And plies the oars that he might get her 
 (The fatal monster) in his fetter. 
 A nobler death her soul prefers, 
 
 That quails not at the threatened brand, 
 ~No woman's shrinking heart is her's, 
 
 To seek some unfrequented strand ; 
 But sternly dares, the fallen Queen 
 
 To see her ruin'd halls, — to grasp 
 "With brow unchang'd, and soul serene, 
 
 The venom of the deadly asp ; 
 Ere dragg'd by hostile hands, to dare 
 
 With calm resolve, the destined blow, 
 Die as befits a Queen, but ne'er 
 
 Adorn the triumph of a foe. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 PERSICOS ODI. 
 
 HERE'S nothing that so much I hate as 
 MS l ^^ s P om P ous Persian apparatus ; 
 
 Give me no Crowns with linden braided, 
 ]tfor seek the latest rose unfaded. 
 
50 THE ODES OE HOEACE. 
 
 Plain myrtles bind, nor labour lad, 
 For either of us aught to add, 
 "Whilst I reclining (you attending) 
 Drink with the vine-trees o'er me bending. 
 
tA? 'A a ^M? ^A? < fcv *A? $^w Sh? $^? $w $HE ^M? "^A 1 ? wfc« waK ^A 2 ?A? 
 
 BOOK II 
 
 MOTTOf EX metello. 
 
 HE civil war, its causes and its crimes, 
 "Which in Metellus' times o'erspread the land, 
 The Chiefs' disastrous leagues, in those dread 
 times 
 Of blood yet unatoned, schemes darkly plann'd, 
 To be the sport of Fortune ! Here you stand 
 Amid the ashes of the past, nor see 
 Their smouldering fires : Such perilous themes demand 
 Sole effort, till from public annals free, 
 Again you court the Muse of mournful tragedy, 
 
 Thou, friend of the oppress' d. Awhile forego 
 The buskin' d scene, thou, whom the fathers hear 
 In counsel, thou, immortal Pollio, 
 Wreathed in Dalmatian triumph. On mine ear, 
 Methinks e'en now the distant clarion, near 
 And nearer swells — now o'er the tumult, roll 
 Shrill echoes. Erighted steed, and dazzling spear, 
 Chiefs grimed with glorious dust, whose stern control 
 O'erawes a vanquished world — all save the sterner soul 
 
52 THE ODES OP HOEACE. 
 
 Of Cato ! Juno, overcome by Pate, 
 Fled unaveng'd, with Afric's favouring Powers, 
 Till she, the Victor's sons might immolate, 
 An offering to Jugurtha's shade. "What showers 
 Of Latin blood that impious war of ours 
 Shed on the conscious plain their richness feeds ! 
 What wand'ring stream, what far off sea, whose shores 
 Have witnessed not those lamentable deeds, 
 Till ruin's wail was heard far as the distant Medes. 
 
 What land uncrimson'd with Apulia's blood? 
 What billow blushed not for those impious frays ? 
 Yet pause rash Muse, nor let the mournful mood 
 Usurp the string of sad Simonides : 
 ISor turn thee from thy light and jocund ways. 
 With me, sweet Dionsean bowers among, 
 To Beauty wake thy ever mirthful lays, 
 To gayer themes the livelier strain prolong, 
 And strike the lighter lyre to less sonorous song. 
 
 II. 
 UTTLLTJS ARGENTO. 
 
 iH Crispus Sallust, aye the foe 
 ?AVf/^ Of hidden treasures lying low 
 
 •<§) In greedy mine, 
 No benefit can they produce, 
 
THE ODES OF HORA.CE. 
 
 Save in a meritorious use, 
 'Tis there they shine. 
 
 Thus, Proculeius's name 
 
 Shall long survive, while soars his fame 
 
 On wing sublime ; 
 
 Renown' d among the great and good, 
 
 For his paternal brotherhood, 
 
 To after time. 
 
 Could' st thou both Carthages, and all 
 
 From Lybia to far Gades call 
 
 Thy own — thy self, 
 
 An ampler empire yet, would prove, 
 
 If guarded from debasing love 
 
 Of sordid pelf. 
 
 The direful dropsy never ceases, 
 But with indulgence still increases 
 Its morbid thirst ; 
 The bloated langour to relieve, 
 From the foul system you must drive 
 The causes first. 
 
 Conscience, Phraates throne excludes 
 
 From all the proud beatitudes 
 
 That power can give us ; 
 
 The maxims of the world may force 
 
 False names on things, but stern remorse 
 
 Will undeceive us. 
 
•54 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 He only wears the crown, which no 
 Invidious power can overthrow, 
 The man whose moral 
 Worth can survey with listless eye 
 The glittering heap, and pass it by, 
 His — his the laurel. 
 
 III. 
 
 J3QUAM MEMENTO. 1 
 
 ^JSM H Dellius, endeavour 
 ijlwite ^y hreast to inure, 
 <^r^ To what trial soever 
 
 'Tis thine to endure ; 
 Whate'er be thy fate, 
 
 Since thy life's but a span, 
 Let not fortune elate, 
 
 Let not sorrow unman. 
 
 Whether care shall have festered 
 
 Thy heart to its core, 
 Or in some green sequestered 
 
 Eetreat thou shalt pour, 
 
 1 Quintus Dellius, to whom this ode is addressed, was a sort of 
 "Vicar of Bray" in his time. From the death of Caius Julius he 
 .successively joined every contending party in the State that the 
 civil commotions happened for the time to throw into the ascendant. 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 55 
 
 Old Ealernian wine, 
 
 Ey the wandering stream, 
 Where the poplar and pine 
 
 Weave a shade from the beam. 
 
 "While fortune smiles on thee, 
 
 Ere yet the frail thread 
 That the Destinies spun thee, 
 
 In darkness hath sped, 
 Bring the richest perfume, 
 
 Quaff the wine as it flows, 
 'Mid the fast fading bloom 
 
 Of the exquisite rose. 
 
 Yellow Tiber, his billow, 
 
 When thou shalt be naught, 
 Shall roll on by the villa 
 
 And groves thou hast bought, 
 But could' st thou not claim 
 
 Even a roof from the blast, 
 It will all be the same 
 
 When this bleak world is past. 
 
 When " life's happy measure" 
 
 Thou canst not recall, 
 And some heir to thy treasure 
 
 Is lord of thy hall, 
 
56 THE ODES OE HOEACE. 
 
 i 
 
 "What descent hath been thine, 
 It matters not then, 
 
 Prom old Inachus' line, 
 Or the meanest of men. 
 
 One path lies before us ; 
 
 For each in his turn 
 The lot trembles o'er us, 
 
 It shakes in the urn ; 
 And sooner or late 
 
 Shall the last fleeting breath 
 "Waft the exile of fate, 
 
 On the voyage of death. 
 
 IY. 
 
 NE SIT ANCILLJS. 
 
 &y§W H wherefore, good Phoceus, should' st thou be 
 SBBfiP ashamed, 
 
 <k*T@ "With the love of thy handmaid to glow ? 
 Briseis, the haughty Achilles inflamed, 
 By the charm of her bosom of snow. 
 
 On the form of Tecmessa his slave, was the love, 
 
 Of Ajax of Telemon lavished, 
 And surrounded by triumph, Atrides could prove 
 
 A captive to charms that were ravish'd, 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 0/ 
 
 When the scattered barbarians, of Hector bereft, 
 
 Did the hero of Thessaly break, 
 And Troy was an easier victory left 
 
 To the arms of the war- wearied Greek. 
 
 You know not how rich or illustrious your 
 Bright-hair'd Phillis's father and mother ; • 
 
 She mourns o'er her house's disasters, for sure 
 She's of some royal race or another. 
 
 Of gentle blood, trust me, thy Phillis must be, 
 
 Of such constancy to her adorer, 
 So abhorrent of lucre too, certainly she 
 
 Needn't blush for the mother that bore her. 
 
 I can praise arms and ancles, and looks that are dear, 
 
 With sensations as pure as delicious, 
 But when on the verge of his fortieth year 
 
 A man trembles — no more be suspicious. 
 
 Y. 
 
 ISrOKDTJH SUBACTA. 
 
 m 
 
 EKD not to love's yoke, the young neck of the 
 MCffll maiden, 
 
 Ere its burden of bliss, she have power to sustain ; 
 Like the maids of the pasture, yet loth to be laden 
 "With the ponderous rush of the sires of the plain ; 
 
58 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Whose joy is to rove thro' the green marshy willows, 
 To join with the steers in their merriest play, 
 
 Or to bathe her young limbs in the soft sunny billows 
 As they sparkle along on a Midsummer day. 
 
 Let the clusters be ripe, ere your lips shall have sought 
 'urn, 
 Time quickly will mellow the maid and the vine, 
 Soon the purple shall tinge the rich glow of their autumn, 
 And her years shall wax wanton, when yours shall 
 decline. 
 
 For the heart will grow warm, as the maiden grows older, 
 
 And Lalage, dear as young Pholoe be, 
 (That coyest of maids) or as Chloris, whose shoulder 
 
 Glances pure as the night-beam that sleeps on the sea. 
 
 Or Gyges, whose half-girlish face should you mingle 
 In a crowd of young maids, with his long-flowing hair, 
 
 "Not Ulysses himself the young Cyndian could single 
 Prom the fond fairy forms of the frail and the fair. 
 
 VI. 
 
 SEPTIMI, GADES. 
 
 ^EPTIMIUS, who would' st roam with me 
 (|p^y To Gades far, or Syrtes rude, 
 'lg§® Where ever boils the Moorish sea, 
 Or to Cantabria unsubdued ; 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 59 
 
 My life's decline, its travails o'er, 
 Thro' tented field, o'er land and sea, 
 
 As did the Argive kings of yore, 
 Would choose the shades of Tivoli. 
 
 But if by adverse fates denied, 
 
 Xor here my weary wand'ring ceases, 
 
 I'd seek Galesus' gentle tide, 
 
 Whose shepherds sweathe the tender fleeces. 
 
 Where reigned the Spartan, Earth supplies 
 Ko spot to lure my steps away from, 
 
 Whose honey, with Hymettus vies, 
 Its olive, with the green Venafrum. 
 
 Here winters mild the Gods allot, 
 
 Here summer sheds a lengthen'd lustre, 
 
 Here Aulon's vineyards envy not 
 The richness of Palernian cluster, 
 
 Here shalt thou dwell with me. And here, 
 Those sweet secluded hills among, 
 
 O'er my warm ashes drop a tear, 
 The meed of friendship, and of song. 
 
60 THE ODES OF HOKACE* 
 
 yii. 
 
 O S^IPE MECUM. 
 
 fOMPEY, my earliest friend, thou hast 
 With me thro' many a trial past 
 "When Brutus led us. Whose command 
 Restores thee now to native land, 
 And to thy country's Gods again, 
 Once more a Eoman citizen ? 
 With brimming goblet, wreathed with flowers, 
 We've often broke the loitering hours, 
 While odours, o'er each glossy head, 
 The Syrian Malobathrum shed. 
 We, from Philippi, shared the flight, 
 (I lost my shield which was not right,) 
 But what could all our valour do, 
 Our boastful ranks, when broken thro' ? 
 And many a chin, besmeared with blood, 
 That day lay sticking in the mud. 
 But me, swift Hermes, in a cloud, 
 Bore trembling thro' the hostile crowd, 
 While thee, the tide of war once more 
 Back on its boiling billows bore. 
 Therefore, to Jove due ofT' rings pay, 
 And then, my old Champaigner, lay 
 Beneath these laurel shades of mine 
 Thy weary limbs, nor spare the wine ; 
 
THE ODES OE HORACE. 61 
 
 Let Massic brim the burnished bowl, 
 To shed its Lethe o'er thy soul. 
 
 Pour oils from ample shells, but who 
 Shall weave the parsley bathed in dew ? 
 Who myrtles twine ? who rule the feast ? 
 I rave like Bacchanalian priest : 
 Sweet frenzy fires the festive board, 
 That welcomes back the friend restored. 
 
 VIII. 
 TILL A SI JURIS. 
 
 HOSE vows, when you've broke them, 
 jig| If e'er, faithless girl, 
 
 Of the sweet mouth that spoke them, 
 They tarnish'd one pearl, 
 Could thy falsehood but grieve thee, 
 
 One fioger but stain — 
 Oh then I'd believe thee, 
 Barine, again. 
 
 Tho' the faith thou hast plighted, 
 
 That heart could forget, 
 Still lovers, tho' slighted, 
 
 Will flock round thee yet ; 
 Falsehood only enhances 
 
 The charm of thy smiles, 
 
62 THE ODES OF HOE ACE. 
 
 And more lovely each glance is, 
 The more it beguiles. 
 
 The lost one that bore thee, 
 
 The mnte orbs of eve, 
 And the Gods that rule o'er thee, 
 
 Fain would' st thou deceive ; 
 Yet do young lovers under 
 
 Thy roof come to sigh, 
 'Nor the old break asunder, 
 
 Who threaten to fly. 
 
 The nymphs all so simple, 
 
 The Goddess of bliss, 
 With a smile in each dimple, 
 
 Looked archly on this ; 
 And Love, his hot shaft, while 
 
 He whetted in gore, 
 Cruel Love only laughed, while 
 
 The false one forswore. 
 
 Each matron is fearing 
 
 The fate of her son, 
 Lest by looks too endearing, 
 
 His heart should be won ; 
 Old misers feel terror, 
 
 On whom thou hast smiled, 
 And young brides, lest to error, 
 
 A spouse be beguiled. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 63 
 
 IX. 
 
 NON SEMPER IMBRES. 
 
 H VALGIUS, my afflicted friend, 
 
 Rude storms will vex the Caspian Sea, 
 Show'rs o'er the furrowed land descend, 
 Yet not for ever, such things be ; 
 'Nor, on Arminia's frozen shore, 
 The ice endures for evermore. 
 
 The leafless ash will yet bud forth, 
 And so should happier hours sustain us, 
 
 Nor ever rends, the stormy North, 
 
 The lab'ring oaks of Mount Garganus ; 
 
 But time to thee brings no relief, 
 
 No kind forgetfulness of grief. 
 
 Thou mournest for thy Mystes gone, 
 The evening star beholds thy sorrow, 
 
 It flees before the morning sun 
 
 That brings to thee no cheerful morrow ; 
 
 The Phrygian sisters mourned not thus, 
 
 Nor parents of young Troilus. 
 
 Then let not grief thy soul subdue ; 
 
 Not thus did he who numbered o'er 
 Thrice told, the years that mortals do, 
 
 His lov'd Antilochus deplore ; 
 But sweep with me the sounding strings, 
 To the fresh triumphs Caesar brings. 
 
64 THE ODES OE HOEACE. 
 
 The snowy peaks of far Niphates 
 No elegiac strains demand, 
 
 Nor humbled tides of proud Euphrates, 
 That roll o'er many a conquered land ; 
 
 Nor fierce Sarmatian, as he reins 
 
 His steed within diminished plains. 
 
 X. 
 
 EECTIUS VIYES. 
 
 ^ICINIITS, the golden 
 |Wk$ Mid course should' st thou steer, 
 Let not rashness embolden, 
 
 Nor yield thou to fear ; 
 Be thy way o'er life's billows 
 
 So evenly shaped, 
 That its storms and its shallows 
 
 Alike be escaped. 
 
 Let not poverty's dwelling, 
 
 Nor grandeur's be thine ; 
 When the tempest is swelling, 
 
 It rends the tall pine ; 
 On the mountain, the thunder 
 
 Most wings its red flash, 
 And high towers fall asunder, 
 
 With deadlier crash. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. 65 
 
 One God rules each variance 
 
 Of sunshine and storm, 
 And the breast that experience 
 
 Hath taught to conform — 
 Prudence shall not forsake it, 
 
 Tho' fortune seem fair, 
 Tho' reverses o'ertake it, 
 
 It shall not despair. 
 
 Nor, tho' grieved, doth it follow, 
 
 'Twill always be so, 
 For sometimes Apollo 
 
 Relaxes his bow ; 
 Of the lyre, that in slumber 
 
 And silence hath lain, 
 He wakes each wild number, 
 
 To sweetness again. 
 
 In poverty cheerful, 
 
 Still struggle to be ; 
 "Nor of fortune seem fearful, 
 
 Whate'er her decree ; 
 If her frown should prevail, 
 
 To thy fate be resigned, 
 Nor spread too much sail 
 
 To a prosperous wind. 1 
 
 1 How strikingly illustrative of their respective characters is the 
 above passage, compared with the following lines of Burns : the 
 
C)6 THE ODES OE HOKACE. 
 
 XI. 
 QUID BELLICOSUS. 
 
 HAT the rude Scythian, or the brave 
 Cantabrian would do, 
 Beyond th' Adriatic wave, 
 It matters not to you : 
 
 ]Nor be solicitous for more, 
 
 Still limit thy desires ; 
 Quinctius Hirpinus, little store, 
 
 This fleeting life requires. 
 
 Soon Beauty's charm, and passion's thrill, 
 
 And youth, with all its joys, 
 And slumbers soft, that come at will, 
 
 Gray, sapless age destroys. 
 
 The bloom of spring must be resigned. 
 The bright moon have her wane ; 
 
 Why harass, then, thy restless mind, 
 Unequal to the strain ? 
 
 wild enthusiasm of that impassioned child of nature, and the 
 didactic coldness of the Roman moralist : — 
 
 " Then top and main-top crowd the sail, 
 Heave care o'er side ! 
 And large, before enjoyment's gale, 
 Let's tak the tide." 
 

 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 67 
 
 Why not, beneath these spreading boughs, 
 
 In dreamy listlessness, 
 With roses wreath' d (while fate allows), 
 
 Conceal each silvering tress ? 
 
 Where pine or spreading plane-trees throw 
 
 Cool shadows o'er the sward, 
 There let the rosy torrent flow, 
 
 Inhale the Syrian nard. 
 
 Wine dissipates corroding care : 
 
 What nimble youth 1 shall fly, 
 To temper the Palernian, where 
 
 The streamlet bubbles by ? 
 
 And Lyde — whose persuasive powers, 
 From home shall tempt the Syren, 
 
 To seek these festive shades of ours, 
 To tune her ivory lyre in ? 
 
 1 " Quis puer ocius," etc. Mr. Martin and Professor Conning- 
 ton have interpreted this passage differently. The one is for 
 bringing the wine to the water, and the other, for bringing the 
 water to the wine, which makes the difference of merely cooling 
 by immersion, or Amphictyon-like, of actual admixture. The 
 latter supposition is supported by Anacreon, AAe dy, cp€p, tj/jliv, w 
 irai, etc. (Ode LVIL). Mr. Martin instances the " glowing tribute' ' 
 of Catullus to the " skill" of his cupbearer, in serving up the pure 
 "Native" as he calls it (p. 282), which reminds one forcibly of 
 the Irishman, whose skill in mixing his grog consisted in the omission 
 of the deteriorating ingredient. 
 
68 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Quick ! see she tarries not behind, 
 And bid the wayward leman, 
 
 In graceful knot her tresses bind, 
 Like maid of Lacedaemon. 
 
 XII. 
 NOLIS LONGA FEEJE. 
 
 Mf) H do not task this feeble string, 
 
 r? 
 
 Krajjr Numantia's lengthen' d wars to sing 
 (k~7Hp Or Punic chief, or Punic slaughter, 
 That tinged Sicilians crimson' d water. 
 Hylaeus, flush' d with wine, my lay 
 Suits not, nor savage Lapithae, 
 Eor the great Youthes that could appal 
 Old Saturn's bright but tottering wall, 
 Till forced, their efforts to desist, 
 "When quelled by Herculean fist. 
 
 Maecenas, thy historic prose 
 Shall Caesar's battles best disclose ; 
 What proud kings did his triumph's deck, 
 Lugg'd through the streets by nape of neck. 
 
 Muse mine, it is thy gentler choice, 
 To praise the lov'd Licymnia's 1 voice, 
 
 
 1 Mr. Martin rejects the opinion of Bentley, who recognises in 
 Hie fair Licymnia, no other than the wife of Maecenas, the equally 
 fair and wayward Licinia Terentia ; and suggests the "puelia" of 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 69 
 
 The soothing song and flashing eye, 
 The passion, the fidelity, 
 That league in that soft soul, to prove 
 How well it renders love for love. 
 How gracefully each glowing waist 
 Of the fair girls, on Dian's feast, 
 Those arms entwine, nor doth the dance 
 Disgrace such ancles as they glance ; 
 And then, such powers of repartee ! 
 Oh, for the wealth of Araby, 
 . For all that e'er Archsemenes 
 Possess' d, would' st change one charm of these? 
 For all the wealth Mygdonian swain, 
 Hath reap'd on Phrygia's fertile plain, 
 Barter one solitary tress 
 That shades Licymnia's loveliness, 
 Droops o'er that neck that turns to greet thee 
 With the wild lips that mock, yet meet thee, 
 That, sweetly cruel, shun thy kisses, 
 Or snatch themselves, the burning blisses. 
 
 the third Epode, who, not having a taste for garlic, the poet mali- 
 ciously hopes may repel the advances of her admirer. Why not 
 take a moral view of the ease, by supposing the identity of all 
 three, while (if we may borrow a phrase from Horace himself) the 
 uxor u olentis mariti" endeavours to defend herself from unsavoury 
 attentions, "in extrema sponda. ,, This would be a " pious belief," 
 and would put the right woman in the right place. 
 
70 THE ODES OJF HORACE. 
 
 XIII. 
 ILLE ET NEFASTO. 
 
 &^£LL-OMEN'I) tree, with thee some luckless hand, 
 
 pw^I I n ey il hour, did desecrate my land ; 
 
 roy&v Eain hadst thou been, oh thou my farm' s disgrace, 
 
 The fell assassin of a future race. 
 
 That hand (I do believe it) wonld fulfil 
 
 The amplest measure of all earthly ill : 
 
 Steal to the chamber of a sleeping guest, 
 
 And stain the threshold from his bleeding breast, 
 
 Break an old Father's neck, mix poisons rank, 
 
 That planted thee, thou melancholy plank, 
 
 With murderous malice, ready to fall down, 
 
 And crush thy master's unoffending crown. 
 
 Not always feel we whence our peril ; thus, 
 
 The Punic sailor dreads the Bosphorus ; 
 
 No danger else can terrify his mind, 
 
 To every other, nautically blind. 
 
 Italian soldiers dread the shafts that fleet 
 From Parthian quivers, in the dire retreat, 
 They, as their squadrons scour the battle plains, 
 Italian valour, and Italian chains ; 
 But, to us mortals, still the stroke of fate 
 Comes from some point we don't anticipate. 
 
 How near was I to those dark realms of death, 
 And JEacus, who holds his court beneath ; 
 
THE ODES OF HOKACE. i 1 
 
 Those seats reserved, which pious souls attain, 
 Where Sappho sorrows in JEolian strain 
 (A mournful jealousy the song pervades, 
 And chides the frailty of the Lesbian maids). 
 And thee, Alcaeus, from whose gilded shell, 
 Soars the sonorous song's ascending swell 
 To warlike strains, "the battle and the breeze,' , 
 The woes of exile, and the surging seas ! 
 Admiring spirits all enraptur'd seem, 
 As either minstrel wakes the varying theme ; 
 The warrior's prowess, or the maiden's woe, 
 While sacred silence stills the shades below. 
 
 But more, with thirsty ear, the vulgar throng 
 Imbibe some revolutionary song, 1 
 And, as to tales of strife the numbers swell, 
 Shoulder their way to hear how tyrants fell. 
 What marvel, when the Euries they disarm, 
 And soothe their snaky locks with tranquilizing charm ? 
 E'en the huge hundred-headed hound of hell 
 Slouches his ears, and owns the mighty spell. 
 
 Prometheus there, and Pelop's suffering sire 
 Pause in their labours, listening to the lyre ; 
 Orion, too, while each sweet sound he drinks, 
 Forgets to chase the lion or the lynx. 
 
 1 A sort of Marseillaise hymn by Citoyen Alcaeus ("Lesbio Civi"). 
 In this passage I have taken some liberties, which, I trust, will be 
 found to be the exceptions, not the rule. 
 
72 THE ODES OF HOBACE. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 EHEU! PTTGACES. 
 
 fH Postumus ! the years are glancing, 
 Postumus, how fast they flee ! 
 Quick is wrinkled age advancing, 
 Herald of mortality ; 
 Nor can piety restrain it : 
 
 Not three hundred bulls a day 
 Can, my friend, one moment gain it, 
 
 One poor moment of delay, 
 Prom that tearless, uncompliant 
 
 Power that rules the Stygian throng, 
 Geryon, and the lusty giant, 
 Victim of Latona's wrong. 1 
 
 On the mournful margin meeteth, 
 
 Of that melancholy wave, 
 Every child of earth that eateth 
 
 Of its bread, the lord and slave : 
 'Tis in vain you live a stranger 
 
 To the Adriatic seas, 
 Storm and battle, and the danger 
 
 Of the South' s autumnal breeze ; 
 
 1 Tityos, who was shot to death by the arrows of Apollo and 
 Diana, in revenge for the insult offered to their mother, Latona. 
 
THE ODES OE KOEACE. 
 
 View thou must, the dreary waters, 
 Where the dark Cocytus flows, 
 
 Danaiis's direful daughters, 
 Sisyphus' s ceaseless woes. 
 
 "When the homestead, and the meadow, 
 
 And the grove, thine heir shall own, 
 Thy sweet wife, a sweeter widow, 
 
 And the cypress shade alone 
 Mourneth o'er the sad bereavement, 
 
 Then perchance a worthier man 
 Soon shall stain the flowing pavement, 
 
 With the hoarded Csecuban, 
 Whose rich stream, no longer darkling 
 
 Under many a lock and key, 
 Shall outshine the brightest, sparkling 
 
 For a Pontiff's revelry. 
 
 XV. 
 
 JAM PAUCA AEATBO. 
 
 OW palaces and gardens 
 
 Have robbed the useful plough, 
 And more than Lucrine waters 
 O'erspread the cornfields now ; 
 
74 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Many the barren plane-trees, 
 "Where now the elms are few, 
 
 And many a scented shrub and flower 
 Grows where the olive grew. 
 
 Amid no shady laurels, 
 
 Our fathers idly strolled, 
 In the shaggy-bearded Cato's time, 
 
 And Komulus' of old ; 
 Then the public wealth was ample, 
 
 And the private ever small, 
 £Tor did the ten-foot rule mark out 
 
 The long extended wall ; 
 "Nov then, from stately dwellings, 
 
 Stretch' d the long colonnade, 
 To shield them from the sunny south, 
 
 Or woo the breezy shade. 
 
 Their frugal laws disdained not 
 
 To use the simple sods, 
 The rude material chance supplied ; 
 But to uphold their City's pride, 
 "Was ne'er the public purse denied ; 
 And with fresh stone, they beautified 
 
 The temples of the Gods. 
 
THE ODES OF HORACE. iO 
 
 XVI. 
 
 OTITJM DIYOS. 
 
 E, from whose bleak, benighted way, 
 The moon, o'erclouded heavens shall 
 *e/28&» hide, 
 
 No guiding star to shed its ray- 
 Above the dark JEgean tide, 
 
 The sons of Thrace, in battle bold, 
 The quiver' d Mede, with graceful air, 
 
 Ease, which, nor purple, gems, nor gold 
 Can buy, oh Grosphus, is their prayer. 
 
 Nor regal wealth, nor palace proud 
 Bestows the boon that bids us rest, 
 
 Nor lictor quells the griefs that crowd 
 Too rudely round the suffering breast. 
 
 Whose salt, that antient bowl contains, 
 That graced his father's frugal cheer, 
 
 Rich in content, no sordid gains 
 Disturb his pillow with a fear. 
 
 "Why waste we life's fast fleeting prime, 
 On many a fond, but fruitless aim ? 
 
 Why bear a heart from clime to clime, 
 That here, or there, is still the same ? 
 
76 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Nor brazen prow, nor charging steeds 
 Can leave corroding care behind ; 
 
 Fleet as the flying stag, it speeds, 
 
 More swiftly than the sweeping wind. 
 
 But he who grasps the present bliss, 
 Tho' ne'er from mingled troubles free, 
 
 Bears with a smile the ill that is, 
 ISTor darkly bodes what is to be. 
 
 Short was Achilles' bright career, 
 Not so Tithonus', worn and old, 
 
 And I perchance may yet be here, 
 Oh Grosphus, when thou too art cold. 
 
 In harness'd pride thy courser neighs, 
 Twice drank thy robe its gorgeous dye, 
 
 And many a flock around thee strays, 
 And lowing herds of Sicily. 
 
 This rural spot, and some small strain 
 Of Sapphic song are mine ; and then, 
 
 Fate bids me view, with calm disdain, 
 The jealousies of vulgar men. 
 
THE ODES OP HORACE. 77 
 
 XVII. 
 
 CUE ME QUEEELIS. 
 
 HY kill me with complaints so sad ? 
 The gods, Maecenas, have forbad 
 That I should live, when thou my stay 
 And ornament shalt pass away. 
 
 When my soul's dearer part is gone, 
 Why follow not the worser one ? 
 We'll tread together (I have sworn 
 ^No idle oath) our latest bourne. 
 
 Altho' the scorpion's baleful power 
 Had frown' d upon my natal hour, 
 Is or monster of the fiery throat, 
 Eor Libra, nor the stormy goat, 
 That tyrant of Hesperian seas, 
 Should overrule our destinies ; 
 JSor Heaven's huge hundred-handed foe, 
 Eesistless justice overthrow, 
 Which doth, with kindly Fate, combine, 
 Thy horoscope, to blend with mine. 
 
 Thee, Jupiter's auspicious beam, 
 Erom the fell Saturn, could redeem ; 
 And Eate's ferocious wing was drooped, 
 Ere yet the fatal pinion swoop' d, 
 When joyful plaudits, loud and far, 
 Thrice shook the crowded theatre. 
 
78 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 My head, a falling tree had broke, 
 Had Pan not warded off the stroke 
 "With his right hand, that ever guards 
 The sacred persons of the bards. 
 
 A lamb my humble off 'ring, thine 
 The costlier victims, and the shrine. 
 
 XVIII. 
 NON EBUK. 
 
 « 
 
 ENEATH my humble roof, you see 
 
 3 (Qlr ^ or £^ e( ^ arcn ? nor ivory : 
 
 Nor are Hymethian timbers laid 
 Upon the gorgeous colonnade, 
 From Afric hewn. No heir unknown, 
 Have I usurped the Mysian's throne : 
 No gentle-blooded spinsters, I 
 Employ to weave the Spartan dye ; 
 But honour, and a vein benign 
 Of happiest genius — these are mine : 
 Tho' poor, the rich man seeks my door, 
 And Heaven is kind — I ask no more. 
 
 Content with this, my humble fortune, 
 My powerful friend I don't importune ; 
 Blest with my Sabine farm alone, 
 'Tis all I do, or care to own. 
 
 
THE ODES OF HOKACE. 79 
 
 Day follows day, moon follows moon, 
 Thou giv'st the marbles to be hewn, 
 And not contented with the land, 
 The wave that breaks on Bails' strand 
 Must yield its wild domain to thee, 
 Unmindful of mortality ; 
 And when the structure tow'rs on high, 
 Behold the stately pile — and die ! 
 
 How is it, that the rich will sure 
 O'erleap the boundaries of the poor ? 
 Wives, husbands, household gods must fly, 
 And all the unwashed progeny. 1 
 
 "What further dost thou seek ? to no 
 More certain mansion must thou go, 
 Than that which all impartial Earth 
 Provides her sons, whate'er their birth, 
 That one last bourne, rapacious fate 
 Hath for the lowly and the great. 
 
 Here, not Prometheus' gold could tell 
 Upon the Satellite of hell ; 
 
 1 Had Horace lived in the present times lie would have been as 
 strenuous a tenant-righter as the learned Justice Shee. The pic- 
 ture he draws of an eviction differs in no way from our own, save 
 that the Irish- women, after the manner of their ancestresses 
 of Mount Atlas, carry their "sordidos natos" not according to 
 Horace " in sinu," but, according to Sir William Jones, on their 
 backs. "Mulieres Hibernicarum more,'' says that accomplished 
 Eastern scholar, "liberos humeris circumferunt." The same 
 author says, " Shilhensus populus eundem quern Arabes, Judsei, 
 et Hiberrd habent ritum mortem amicorum deplorandi, vociferando, 
 Ough hone ! Ough hone ! cur mortuus es ?" 
 
 \l 
 
80 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 Here, Tantalus's haughty race 
 Have found their last abiding place ; 
 Invoked or not, their labours past, 
 Here shall the weary rest at last. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 EACCHTJM IN EEMOTIS. 1 
 
 SAW the cloven-footed herd, 
 ffljj^ (Posterity will take my word) 
 
 Of satyrs, mingled with the throng 
 Of nymphs that listened to the song ; 
 "With ears intent, each note they caught, 
 'Mid the lone rocks where Bacchus taught. 
 Hurrah ! my spirit is possessed, 
 And all the wine- god fills my breast : 
 Terror and joy unwonted roll 
 Their mingled tumults thro' my soul. 
 
 Spare me — Hurrah ! I rave ! I fear ! 
 God of the ivy wreathed spear ! 
 
 1 This ode is called a Dithyrambic, and supposed to be imitated 
 from the Greek. The origin of the word is attributed to Dithy- 
 rambus, a Theban, who, according to some, invented these hymns 
 in honour of Bacchus. Gale, in his " Court of the Gentiles," quotes 
 authorities in favour of Orpheus, as the first who introduced the 
 rites of Bacchus into Greece. The "Parian Chronicle" attributes 
 them to Hyagnis, a Phrygian: tayvis o <ppv£ avXovs irpccros 
 7]vpev ty KeAcuvais rrjs $pvyias, Kai rrju apfxoviav ttjv KaXovfjLepyjv 
 $pvyisi TTpcaros rjv\r}(T€, kcli aXXovs vofxovs Mrjrpos, Aiovvcrov, etc. 
 Lord Bacon has a curious dissertation on the fable of Dionysius. 
 
THE ODES OF HOEACE. 81 
 
 'Tis mine to sing in many lays, 
 
 The ravings of the Thyades, 
 
 The milky stream that ceaseless rushes, 
 
 The rosy fountain as it gushes, 
 
 Honey, that trickles from the trees, 
 
 And overflows their cavities, 
 
 The glories of each starry gem 
 
 In Ariadne's diadem, 
 
 The impious Pentheus' prostrate walls, 
 
 And fell Lycurgus' ruined halls. 
 
 Barbaric billow, as it rolls, 
 Or river runs, thy might controls. 
 'Mid distant mountains, bathed in wine, 
 Wild Bacchanalian locks entwine, 
 (While votive madness rules the hour) 
 "With harmless vipers — such thy power ! 
 
 Tho' aye reputed apter at 
 The jovial dance, or merry chat, 
 More for the gentler hours of play, 
 Than for the tumults of the fray, 
 Yet did thy lion form o'erwhelm 
 Th' invaders of thy father's realm, 
 And their huge cohorts scatter far, 
 Great arbiter of peace and war. 
 Cerberus, crouching, to behold 
 Thy temples, decked with horn of gold, 
 Licked, with his triple tongue, thy feet, 
 And drooped his tail at thy retreat. 
 
82 THE ODES OF HOE ACE. 
 
 XX. 
 
 NON TTSITATA. 
 
 fHTJS doubly form'd, no hacknied wing 
 The poet wafts beyond the ken 
 Of all the enmities that spring 
 Among the haunts of envious men. 
 
 Tho' lowly born, the cherish' d friend, 
 "Whom thou hast loved, shall never die ; 
 
 He ne'er, Maecenas, shall descend 
 To Styx's cold captivity. 
 
 My thighs grow rough, and now my breast, 
 The form of snowy bird, assumes, 
 
 In feathers are my knuckles drest, 
 
 My shoulders clothed in downy plumes. 
 
 Swifter than he of waxen wing, 
 
 O'er sultry sand, or icy pole, 
 The minstrel bird shall soar and sing, 
 
 Where loud, the Thracian billows roll, 
 
 Par as the distant Danube foams, 
 
 By Caspian shores, or banks of Rhone, 
 
 Par as "the rude Sarmasian" roams, 
 To learn' d Iberian, not unknown. 
 
 Then weep not for the spirit freed, 
 
 ^or wake for me, one sorrowing strain, 
 
 No funereal rites I need, 
 
 And death's cold pageant mourns in vain. 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 ODE XX. 
 
 Am— u The bard's legacy.' ' 
 
 HEN removed from mankind, no more 
 
 Thy two-form' d poet shall linger here, 
 On no feeble wing, shall sublimely soar 
 Erom the reach of envy, his high career. 
 The bard who, thy friendship, once could merit, 
 
 Albeit Maecenas, of humble birth, 
 ~No Stygean wave shall confine his spirit, 
 "When once 'tis freed from the dross of earth. 
 
 E'en now, around me, methinks T feel 
 
 The down that roughens the cygnet's breast, 
 Athwart my shoulders the white plumes steal, 
 
 Of the bird that pines to her tuneful rest. 
 Never of old, did the youth in the story, on 
 
 Wing Dsedalean, more swiftly soar, 
 From the Pontic loud, to the chill Hyperborean, 
 
 And sunny climes of Gsetulia's shore. 
 
$1 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 When tlie light of my song is fled, 
 
 The Colchian, the Gelon, far away, 
 The Decian, and they who fain the dread 
 
 Of the Marsian cohort, shall learn my lay : 
 And he who shall drink, where the Rhone doth roll, in 
 
 The rush of its waters, when passing along, 
 And the sage Iberian shall soothe his soul, in 
 
 The sweetest strains of the bird of song. 
 
 When in death, I appear reclined, 
 
 Then let no tear be unseemly shed ; 
 3for let one friend, whom I leave behind, 
 
 Waste one vain sigh, on the seeming dead : 
 Bid them not raise one sound of sorrow, 
 
 To sadden his latest hour, for whom, 
 A deathless fame shall forbear to borrow 
 
 The empty rite of a needless tomb. 
 
CARMEN S^CULARE. 
 
 HCEBUS, and thou, heavenly maid, 
 <v Goddess of the sylvan shade, 
 Splendour of celestial rays, 
 Praised, and worthy of all praise, 
 Hear us at this sacred time, 
 When the Sybil's mystic rhyme 
 Hath, the maids and youths directed, 
 (For the sacred song selected) 
 To the Gods to chant the ditty, 
 Guardians of the seven-hill'd city. 
 
 Genial sun, whose glowing car 
 Daylight rolleth, wide and far, 
 Which, with equal glory glows, 
 When it sets, as when it rose, 
 Ever changing, ever one, 
 May'st thou never shine upon 
 Aught more glorious, thro' thy hours 
 Of glory, than these walls of ours, 
 
 Ilithyia, whatever 
 Name invoked by, hear her prayer ; 
 Whether Genitalis, she, 
 Or Lucina, calleth thee, 
 
86 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 Save the matron from miscarriage, 
 Multiply the fruits of marriage, 
 Aid the father's legislation, 
 And the laws of propagation, 
 And once more restore the nation 
 To its wonted population, 
 Which, when years ten times eleven 
 Shall have circl'd in the heaven, 
 Thrice, in sunny hours shall throng 
 To the game and to the song, 
 And as often, w T hen they fade 
 To the softer hours of shade. 
 
 And ye mystic sisters, who, 
 In prophetic strain, and true, 
 Did, the present settled state 
 Of affairs, prognosticate, 
 Ever bounteous, add to these, 
 All the happiest destinies. 
 
 May, while softest zephyrs breathe, 
 Ceres wear her bearded wreath ; 
 Flocks, o'er fertile pastures wending, 
 Sun show'rs on the earth descending, 
 Air, to tender brood, propitious, 
 Eedolent of fruits delicious. 
 
 Phoebus, with thy bow unbent, 
 Hear each youthful suppliant ; 
 Crescent queen of starry sky, 
 Hear the maiden's minstrelsy. 
 
THE ODES OP H.OKACE. 
 
 Kome if yours, if your decree, 
 On the shores of Tuscany, 
 Bad the Gods of Ilium 
 To their future city come, 
 And the wand' ring warriors, whom, 
 Chaste iEneas, from the doom 
 Of the burning city, led, 
 By no fraud of his, to tread 
 Shores, whose glory rivals all 
 Those of which he saw the fall. 
 Youth, ye Gods, to virtue train, 
 And when life is in the wane, 
 Make us tranquil, and the state, 
 Wealthy, populous, and great. 
 
 Him, ye Gods, whose blood hath run 
 From Anchises' mighty son, 
 Born of Yenus, who reveres 
 Your divinity, with steers, 
 Yictims of unspotted white, 
 Make him in the ghastly fight, 
 Terrible to overthrow, 
 Lenient to a fallen foe. 
 
 ISTow the Mede, by land and sea, 
 Yields to our authority ; 
 Haughty Scythia now is still ; 
 India waits upon our will ; 
 Faith and honour, peace and shame, 
 Long neglected, we reclaim, 
 
#8 THE ODES OF HOUACE. 
 
 Ancient virtues that had vanished, 
 Plenty, with her horn replenish' d. 
 
 Phoebus, favourite of the Nine, 
 Phoebus, skilful to divine, 
 And the healing balm bestow, 
 Phoebus of the silver bow ! 
 If he cast a look benign 
 On the lofty Palatine, 
 To another lustrum, may 
 Flourish Rome's imperial sway, 
 To another age, progress, 
 Latium's growing happiness. 
 
 Maid of Algidus, incline 
 (Goddess of the Aventine) 
 To the youths that worship thee, 
 And the Quindecemviri. 
 
 We, the chorus, skilled to raise 
 Phoebus' and Diana's praise, 
 Now, with certain hope, retire, 
 That the universal Sire, 
 Our propitiation please, 
 And the favouring Deities. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 BOOK I. ODE V. 
 
 Am — " The Prince's day." 
 
 5YRRHA say, for what stripling, so scented and 
 ' slender, 
 
 In thy grot, strewn with roses, all blessing, 
 and blest, 
 Are those ringlets of thine, in the sunniest splendour 
 Of Nature's embellishment, simply drest : 
 How oft shall he rue 
 The Gods untrue, 
 Love's gentle horizon, with clouds o'ercast, 
 O'er its waters, alas, 
 That the storm should pass — 
 That the girl, in whose faith, like pure gold from the 
 mine, 
 Ey no falsehood alloy' d, he believed to the last, 
 Where affection and constancy seem'd to entwine, 
 Should be fickle and false, as the shifting blast ! 
 
 Alas for the peace of the ill-fated lover, 
 
 Whose heart those untoward enchantments have won, 
 Who thus, when too late, shall be doom'd to discover, 
 
 How false was the charm that had lured him on : 
 
90 THE ODES OE HOKACE. 
 
 "No longer to glide 
 O'er love's calm tide, 
 O'er the wreck of whose hopes, the dark wave flows, 
 As drifting o'er 
 Life's dreary shore — 
 A tablet of mine, to the God cf the ocean, 
 
 On the wall of his temple, now votively shows 
 The off'ring I've hung, in my grateful devotion, 
 To hallow his shrine with my streaming clothes. 
 
 THE SAME. 
 
 HAT youth crown'd with roses, 
 
 And bathed in perfume, 
 In thy grotto reposes, 
 Oh Pyrrha ! for whom, 
 With a charm all so artless, 
 
 Those bright locks are twined, 
 Soon to mourn thee all heartless, 
 And false as the wind. 
 
 By the G6ds when forsaken, 
 
 'Twill burst, like the roar 
 Of dark storms, when they break on 
 
 Seas, tranquil before ; 
 Then, alas ! for the lover 
 
 That trusts to thy smile, 
 Ere his bosom discover 
 
 How yours could beguile. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 91 
 
 In thee, he deem'd ever, 
 
 True gold he should find — 
 That that heart should be never 
 
 Untrue or unkind. 
 To the sea's mighty master, 
 
 Votive garments of mine, 
 Record my disaster, 
 
 All dropping with brine. 
 
 THE SAME. 
 
 AY who is that slim little fellow, 
 
 That clings with such urgent embrace, 
 For whom, Pyrrha, those ringlets of yellow 
 Are twined with so simple a grace, 
 
 In that grotto, where brightest of roses 
 Around him have lavish' d their bloom, 
 
 In whose dreamy seclusion, reposes 
 
 The fond youth, bedew' d with perfume. 
 
 Alas ! for the Gods that could alter, 
 The heart whose affection could fail, 
 
 How he'll weep for the faith that could falter, 
 The love that could veer like the gale, 
 
 " When winds are at war with the ocean," 
 As that bosom (oh! strange to behold,) 
 
 "With the one, whose confiding devotion 
 Mistook all that glitter'd for gold. 
 
92 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 From the wreck, which, the wild wave hath drifted, 
 
 Thus much is he fated to find, 
 That the love, he thought ne'er could have shifted, 
 
 Hath left but its sorrows behind. 
 
 In the temple, a tablet is showing 
 
 My vows to the God of the sea, 
 And the brine, from my wearables flowing, 
 
 That speaks of my peril and thee. 
 
 BOOK I. ODE XL 
 
 §EAE we our lot, nor impiously presume, 
 By arts forbid, to calculate our doom ; 
 Nor task Chaldean numbers to divine, 
 If many a winter yet, be yours or mine, 
 Or this, whose surfy wave, Leuconoe, 
 Breaks o'er Tyrrhanian rocks, our latest be. 
 Distrust the coming day, the present seize, 
 E'en as we speak, each envious moment flees ; 
 Then, since the glowing hours unfettered roll, 
 Imbibe the rosy wisdom of the bowl, 
 Ambitious hope's protracted dreams dismiss, 
 And hug the fond philosophy of bliss. 
 
APPENDIX. 93 
 
 BOOK I. ODE XXI. 
 
 I]N"Gr to the great twin children, 
 Ye girls, Diana praise, 
 To Cynthius of the flowing locks, 
 Te boys, the anthem raise ; 
 Sing to the fair Latona, 
 
 So loved by mighty Jove, 
 Sing to the maid that loves to haunt 
 
 The streamlet and the grove, 
 Where the pines, dark Erynianthus, 
 
 With their gloomy shadows fill, 
 Or the green heights of Cragus, 
 Or Algidns the chill. 
 
 Let Phoebus' native Delos, 
 
 Ye youths, the song inspire, 
 And Tempe's vale, to equal praise, 
 And the proud shoulder that displays 
 The graceful quiver, wake the lays, 
 
 Deck'd with his brother's lyre. 
 So pestilence and famine, 
 
 And lamentable war, 
 Appeased by this your votive lay, 
 Apollo's power shall drive away, 
 Tar as the Caspian's glittering spray, 
 Or, where the sun at close of day, 
 
 Lights the pale cliffs afar. 
 
94 THE ODES OE HORACE. 
 
 BOOK I. ODE XXIII. 
 
 fHOU flees me Chloe, althegither, 
 Like kid that seeks its bleating mither 
 Wi' trembling knees, o'er trackless hether 
 0' mountain dreary, 
 Green lizards, as in brake they splatter, 
 Aye mak' her eirie. 
 
 That starts, when zephyrs sough among 
 The groves, wi' rustling boughs o'er hung ; 
 Nae tiger I, nor lion, sprung 
 
 Frae desert sandy, 
 Then quat thy dam, thou'rt na o'eryoung 
 
 For haughmagandy. 
 
 S? v, 
 
 BOOK I. ODE XXVII. 
 
 Air. — " Sing, sing, music was given." 
 OLD, hold, Bacchus hath given 
 
 ^M, The joys of the bowl, for blissful occasions ; 
 *J&$££ Tar hence be everything driven, 
 
 Save " harmony's laws," to the barbarous Thracians. 
 "When pleasure illumines the hour, and its stream, 
 From the lip to the soul, its true extacy sends, 
 Away with all clamour, no weapon should gleam, 
 "Where we gently recline in a circle of friends. 
 Then hold, hold, etc. 
 
APPENDIX. 95 
 
 Would' st thou that I fill another 
 
 Falernian bowl — come, I'll take no denying ; 
 Yon fair Opuntian's brother 
 
 Shall tell with what exquisite wound he is dying. 
 To ears that are faithful, thy secret impart, 
 
 Nor blush for the flame that consumes thee within, 
 For I never yet knew that the girl of thy heart 
 
 Didn't furnish the fairest excuse for the sin. 
 Then hold, hold, etc. 
 
 Ah me ! that dangerous syren ! 
 
 Thou'rt worthy a better than her thou art wooing ; 
 Lost youth, thy fatal desire, in 
 
 A fearful Charybdis, shall be thy undoing. 
 "What magician, what mixtures from Thessaly brought, 
 
 AYhat witch, or what god, can afford thee his aid, 
 Scarce Pegasus self can avail thee, when caught 
 
 In the toils such a threefold Chimaera hath laid. 
 Then hold, hold, etc. 
 
 BOOK L ODE XXX. 
 
 Air. — " Oh come to the bower I have shaded for you." 
 2§j8^ H come to the temple she hath incensed for thee ; 
 S^HIt^ ^hou, Queen of Love's delicious isles, to Glycera 
 1^7&> flee : 
 
 With each Grace (her zone unbound), 
 
 And thy glowing son, be found, 
 Youth — worthless save with Beauty bright, and Mercury. 
 
96 THE ODES OF HOEACE. 
 
 BOOK I. ODE XXXVIII. 
 
 Am.— " To ladies eyes a round, boy." 
 Sf|®! ITU Persian pomp away boy, 
 gjmKd *^° cna pl e ^ s bind, no chaplets bind, 
 (2$£*© Nor twine the garland gay, boy, 
 
 With linden rind, with linden rind : 
 Nor toil thou in procuring 
 
 The lingering rose, the ling' ring rose, 
 The latest in enduring 
 
 The summer's close, the summer's close, 
 "With Persian pomp, etc. 
 
 The myrtle twine, nor labour, 
 
 Prom stems that breathe, from stems that breathe, 
 To en 11 one gaudy neighbour, 
 
 To deck the wreath, to deck the wreath, 
 With this, to wait on pleasure, 
 
 Thy temples twine, thy temples twine, 
 And mine, to sip at leisure, 
 
 Beneath the vine, beneath the vine. 
 
 Then with Persian pomp, etc. 
 
 BOOK II. ODE III. 
 
 (After the manner of Pope). 
 (HEX)' life's brief sojourn, bear an even mind f 
 j{p|) In joy or sorrow, temper'd or resigned. 
 Whether this 'dreary pilgrimage below, 
 Pass thro' one sad monotony of woe, 
 
APPENDIX. 9' 
 
 Or, in some happy, hospitable shade, 
 
 By spreading pine, and silver poplar made, 
 
 Where wand'ring waters, trembling as they stray, 
 
 Sparkle in bright velocity away, 
 
 On the green slope, life's blooming hours engage 
 
 In rosy dalliance with Falernian age. 
 
 Their joys, while yet o'er youth's soft season shed, 
 And the stern sisters spare the slender thread, 
 While fortune gilds those fleeting hours of thine, 
 Their wings anoint in odours, bathe in wine ; 
 And let the rose' too fleeting charms supply, 
 To teach the kindred " moralist to die." 
 
 "Blest shades ! where yellow Tiber loves to roam, 
 Sweet smiling villa, and long cherished home, 
 Ye purchased groves, fair objects of his care, 
 Shall pass at last from Dellius to his heir. 
 
 What, tho' thy blood, from prince or peasant, now, 
 All meet alike the unrespecting blow ; 
 The rich, the poor, the houseless, and the great, 
 Unequal victims of an equal fate. 
 
 One common urn still agitates our doom, 
 One common path conducts us — to the tomb ; 
 One destination guides the gloomy helm, 
 The endless exile of a silent realm. 
 
98 
 
 THE ODES OF HOKACE, 
 
 BOOK II. ODE VI. 
 
 (An abridgement). 
 
 fjg^EPTIMITJS, who with me would'st brave 
 (c^|>$ The desert wild, and stormy wave, 
 £^M£) Where the old Argives sought repose, 
 Tain would my weary wandering close. 
 
 If this, the Fates refuse to grant us, 
 We'll seek the realm of old Phalantus, 
 Earth's sweetest spot, that soft and sunny 
 Land of the olive and the honey, 
 
 Mild skies, and vineyards that almost 
 The flavour of Ealernum boast ; 
 Here, with his yet warm ashes, blend 
 The tear that mourns the bard and friend. 
 
 BOOK II. ODE VIII. 
 
 Air.—" Believe me if all those endearing young charms." 
 &^£'D believe you, if ever one finger of yours, 
 M^pF Or a tooth, were profaned by a stain, 
 ^M If by falsehood were sullied, one charm that allures, 
 
 Or thy bosom less free from a pain. 
 Thou shalt still be adored, when the vows thou hast 
 breathed, 
 
 That bosom hath failed to fulfil, 
 Around thy fair temples, when perjury's wreathed, 
 
 They but shine more endearingly still. 
 
 
ArPENDIX. 99 
 
 On thy mother, Barine, now cold in her urn, 
 
 On the pale star that silently glows, 
 Even on the undying celestials, in turn, 
 
 On all heaven would thy falsehood impose. 
 Gentle Venus herself, and the nymphs so demure, 
 
 And fierce Cupid but laugh at thy guilt, 
 As he whets the red shaft on the stone that is sure 
 
 To be wet with the blood it has spilt. 
 
 Add, that those who first lov'd thee, love on to the close, 
 
 Her who vainly they swear to eschew, 
 And thy roof is still throng'd with successions of beaux, 
 
 While thy charms sway the old and the new. 
 Thee, prudent old gentlemen fear for their wards, 
 
 And mother's are fearful as they, 
 Youug ladies grow jealous for fear of their lords, 
 
 Ere the honey-moon passes away . 
 
 BOOK II. ODE X. 
 
 (After the manner of Pope) . 
 
 sea, 
 
 tIFE is the voyage of a dangerous 
 Its golden chart is mediocrity : 
 Hor over rash, its stormy depths explore, 
 !NTor over cautious, hug the treacherous shore. 
 
 TJnenvied thus, from all extremes aloof, 
 Avoid the splendid, as the sordid roof ; 
 
100 THE ODES OF HOKACE. 
 
 The more the pine's extended limbs she waves, 
 The more she labours when the tempest raves ; 
 Loud thunder most the massive mountain shakes, 
 And the fall 'n tower, a mightier ruin makes. 
 Prosperous or adverse, whatsoe'r betide, 
 Let hope sustain thee, and let caution guide. 
 
 One Power doth still the varying seasons bring, 
 Scowls in the winter, brightens in the spring, 
 So 'mid the worst, to happier things aspire, 
 The God that bent the bow, will tune the lyre. 
 
 Ne'er let despondency expose thy need, 
 The poor in spirit, are the poor indeed : 
 Nor crowd too much the o'er inflated sail, 
 Lest fortune whelm thee in a fav'ring gale. 
 
 BOOK II. ODE XVI. 
 
 " Otium." — Repose. 
 
 7&f %g E who roams the dark iEgean, with no star to 
 
 I Wlf light his way, on 
 
 >ig/5|£? Ocean wild, in midnight shrouded, when the 
 
 moon, no radiance throws, 
 He, in quivered decoration, graceful Mede, and warlike 
 
 Thracian, 
 Seek with common aspiration (all which boundless 
 wealth bestows 
 
 May not purchase)— sweet repose. 
 
APPENDIX. 101 
 
 Not the fasces, nor the palace can remove from sorrow's 
 
 chalice, 
 Tho' with gold and jewels studded, one regret that from 
 
 it flows ; 
 Happy he whose salt he'd rather, from the ancient bowl 
 
 to gather, 
 That had served his frugal father, while no sordid fear 
 
 he knows, 
 
 That could mar his calm repose. 
 
 Fleeting pride of manhood, therefore, why so many 
 
 projects care for ? 
 Borne to other climates, wherefore ? since from self no 
 
 exile goes ; 
 When grim care the bosom scourges, not the brazen 
 
 prow that urges 
 Her swift course amid the surges, can outstrip those 
 
 restless foes, 
 
 That assail our lov'd repose. 
 
 For unmerciful disaster can the war-horse overmaster ; 
 Fast as flying stag, and faster than the tempest as it 
 
 blows ; 
 But the spirit that can borrow, presently, surcease of 
 
 sorrow, 
 Sweetly reckless of to-morrow, smiles upon those petty 
 
 woes, 
 
 Never absent from repose. 
 
102 THE ODES OF HORACE. 
 
 So we find, condemn' d to fill his early grave, the young 
 
 Achilles, 
 "While the aged Tithonns still is dwindling on thro' 
 
 wasting woes, 
 Haply may thy spirit wing her timeless flight, while 
 
 mine may linger 
 Many an hour, ere time shall bring her to the one that 
 
 comes to close 
 
 Darkly o'er her last repose. 
 
 Bound thee, many flocks are straying, and Sicilian 
 
 herds are playing, 
 And the harnass'd courser neighing, well, her wonted 
 
 service knows, 
 And rich garments round thee lying, bright from Afric's 
 
 double dyeing, 
 All their luxury supplying, where the gorgeous purple 
 
 glows, 
 
 Minister to thy repose. 
 
 But for me, some tuneful merit, doth my wayward soul 
 
 inherit, 
 Caught from that Alceean spirit, that in early Greece 
 
 arose, 
 And above the vulgar rising, all their enmity despising, 
 Trusty Fate is realizing all the bliss that dwells in those 
 Dear rural shades, for my repose. 
 
APPENDIX. 103 
 
 BOOK II. ODE XVII. 
 
 Am.— " Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour." 
 $&jM$ H why, my Maecenas, thus languishing, quell 
 
 ^uH v ^ e ^ as ^ s P ar -^ °f m y ^ e > can ^ ^^ ^ nee ^ arewe ^i ? 
 
 <^T@ If o, the gods have forbid that I still linger on, 
 "When the pride and the prop of existence are gone. 
 When my soul's better portion hath bowed to the blow, 
 Shall the sever' d and worthless pine after it — Ko. 
 I have sworn that this true heart thy fate shall pursue, 
 And forget its own throb, to be pulseless with you. 
 
 If an earlier summons e'er bids thee depart, 
 
 My soul shall be with thee wherever thou art ; 
 
 Hor shall fiend of the hundred hands, nor shall the breath 
 
 Of the fiery Chimaera divide us in death. 
 
 WTiate'er constellation, fell Scorpion or Scale, 
 
 Or tempestuous Goat o'er my birth did prevail, 
 
 Oh, 'twill scarce be believed how our stars are combined, 
 
 How both justice and fate have our destinies joined. 
 
 But the swift wing of Tate, did Jove's kindlier star, 
 
 And the darker Saturnian destiny, mar, 
 
 When three cheers from the theatre echo'd for thee ; 
 
 And this head had been crushed by that ill-fated tree, 
 
 But that Eaunus, the guardian of genius, then threw 
 
 His right hand o'er the one that's now ling'ring with you. 
 
 Forget not the tribute of victim and shrine, 
 
 And the lamb, the more humble, be off 'ring of mine. 
 
HERTFOKD : 
 
 PRINTED BY STEPHEN AUST1K. 
 
 iAp'27 
 
 
 
 
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