University of Virginia Library

EPODE I. To Mæcenas.

Whilst you ascend your warlike Ship,
And carry Terror thro' the distant Deep,
Prepar'd in all Events of War,
Great Cæsar's Dangers and Renown to share;
What shall your Friends forsaken do,
Whose Fate, whose Life and Death, depend on you?
Shall we, at your Request, sport on,
And taste insipid Mirth when you are gone?
Or bear our Loss with such a Breast,
As is by Souls, like yours, in War confess'd?
We'll bear it then, and freely go
O'er craggy Thracian Cliffs, and Alpine Snow;
Or bravely march, whilst you lead on,
Far as the rosy East, and rising Sun.
I know, my weak, my feeble Arm
Can neither aid, nor succour you from Harm;
Yet Absence still increases Fear,
And I shall think you safe when I am near.
The Dam that leaves her tender Young,
Dreads every Snake, and fears she stays too long;
Yet she, alas! is weak as they,
And would, if present, but augment the Prey.
For you the greatest Toils I'll bear,
For you the Dangers and Fatigues of War;
Not to increase my Wealth, or Lands,
By many Oxen till'd, and num'rous Hands;
Where well-fed Flocks and Herds may range,
And with the Seasons still their Pasture change;
Nor give my little Farm more Room,
And build it to the Walls of Tusculum:
Your Bounty gave my present Store,
'Tis all I want, nor will I ask for more,
Like some young Cully, to confound,
Or some rich Miser, hide it under Ground.