Certain Selected Odes Of Horace, Englished and their Arguments annexed. With Poems (Antient and Modern) of diuers Subjects, Translated. Whereunto are added, both in Latin and English, sundry new Epigrammes. Anagrammes. Epitaphes [by John Ashmore] |
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Ex M. Antonio Flaminio, ad Agellum suum. Sic incipit: Vmbræ frigidulæ, &c. |
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 | Certain Selected Odes Of Horace, Englished |  |
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Ex M. Antonio Flaminio, ad Agellum suum. Sic incipit: Vmbræ frigidulæ, &c.
Cool Shades, Air-fanning Groves,
With your sofe Whisperings,
Where Pleasure smiling roves
Through deawie Caves & Springs,
And bathes her purple Wings:
With your sofe Whisperings,
Where Pleasure smiling roves
Through deawie Caves & Springs,
And bathes her purple Wings:
With Flowrs inameld Ground
(Nature's fair Tapestry)
Where chattering Birds abound,
Flickring from Tree to Tree,
With Change of Melody:
(Nature's fair Tapestry)
Where chattering Birds abound,
Flickring from Tree to Tree,
With Change of Melody:
Sweet Liberty and Leasures,
Where still the Muses keep,
O! if to those true Treasures,
That from your Bosoms peep,
I might securely creep:
Where still the Muses keep,
O! if to those true Treasures,
That from your Bosoms peep,
I might securely creep:
If I might spend my Daies
(Remote from publike Brawls)
Now tuning lovely Laies,
Now light-foot Madrigals,
Ne'r checkt with sudden Calls:
(Remote from publike Brawls)
Now tuning lovely Laies,
Now light-foot Madrigals,
Ne'r checkt with sudden Calls:
Now follow Sleep that goes
Rustling ith' green-wood Shade;
Now milk my Goat, that knowes
(With her yong fearfull Cade)
The Pail ith' cooly Glade,
Rustling ith' green-wood Shade;
Now milk my Goat, that knowes
(With her yong fearfull Cade)
The Pail ith' cooly Glade,
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And with Boawls fild to th'Brims
Of milky Moisture new,
To water my dry'd Lims,
And t'all the wrangling Crew
Of Cares to bid, Adew;
Of milky Moisture new,
To water my dry'd Lims,
And t'all the wrangling Crew
Of Cares to bid, Adew;
What Life then should I lead!
How like then would it bee
Vnto the Gods, that tread
Ith' starry Gallery
Of true Felicity!
How like then would it bee
Vnto the Gods, that tread
Ith' starry Gallery
Of true Felicity!
But you, O Virgins sweet,
In Helicon thar dwell,
That oft the Fountains greet,
When you the Pleasures tell
Ith' Country that excell:
In Helicon thar dwell,
That oft the Fountains greet,
When you the Pleasures tell
Ith' Country that excell:
If I my Life, though dear,
For your far dearer sake,
To yeeld would nothing fear;
From Citie's Tumults take-mee,
And free ith' Country make-mee.
For your far dearer sake,
To yeeld would nothing fear;
From Citie's Tumults take-mee,
And free ith' Country make-mee.
FINIS.
| Certain Selected Odes Of Horace, Englished | |