The works of Horace, translated into verse With a prose interpretation, for the help of students. And occasional notes. By Christopher Smart ... In four volumes |
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 | The works of Horace, translated into verse |  |
81
ODE III. TO MELPOMENE.
Horace was born for poetry, to which his immortality is intirely owing.
He, on whose natal hour you glance
A single smile with partial eyes,
Melpomene, shall not advance
A champion for th'Olympic prize,
Nor drawn by steeds of manag'd pride,
In Grecian car victorious ride.
A single smile with partial eyes,
Melpomene, shall not advance
A champion for th'Olympic prize,
Nor drawn by steeds of manag'd pride,
In Grecian car victorious ride.
Nor honour'd with the Delphic leaf,
A wreath for high atchievements wove,
Shall he be shewn triumphant chief,
Where stands the Capitol of Jove,
As justly rais'd to such renown
For bringing boastful tyrants down.
A wreath for high atchievements wove,
Shall he be shewn triumphant chief,
Where stands the Capitol of Jove,
As justly rais'd to such renown
For bringing boastful tyrants down.
But pleasing streams, that flow before
Fair Tibur's flow'ry-fertile land,
And bow'ring trees upon the shore,
Which in such seemly order stand,
Shall form on that Eolic plan
The bard, and magnify the man.
Fair Tibur's flow'ry-fertile land,
And bow'ring trees upon the shore,
Which in such seemly order stand,
Shall form on that Eolic plan
The bard, and magnify the man.
83
The world's metropolis has deign'd
To place me with her darling care,
Rome has my dignity maintain'd
Amongst her bards my bays to wear;
And hence it is against my verse
The tooth of envy's not so fierce.
To place me with her darling care,
Rome has my dignity maintain'd
Amongst her bards my bays to wear;
And hence it is against my verse
The tooth of envy's not so fierce.
O mistress of the golden shell!
Whose silence you command, or break;
Thou that canst make the mute excel,
And ev'n the sea-born reptiles speak;
And, like the swan, if you apply
Your touch, in charming accents die.
Whose silence you command, or break;
Thou that canst make the mute excel,
And ev'n the sea-born reptiles speak;
And, like the swan, if you apply
Your touch, in charming accents die.
This is thy gift, and only thine,
That, as I pass along, I hear—
“There goes the bard, whose sweet design
“Made lyricks for the Roman ear.”
If life or joy I hold or give,
By thee I please, by thee I live.
That, as I pass along, I hear—
“There goes the bard, whose sweet design
“Made lyricks for the Roman ear.”
If life or joy I hold or give,
By thee I please, by thee I live.
| The works of Horace, translated into verse | |