A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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 | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace |  |
451
Epode IX. To Mæcenas.
When shall we quaff, my Lord, the flowing Wine,
Reserv'd for pious Feasts, and Joys divine?
Cæsar with Conquest comes, and gracious Jove,
Who gave that Conquest, shall our Joys approve:
Then bid the Breath of Harmony inspire
The Doric Flute, and wake the Phrygian Lyre;
As late when the Neptunian Youth, who spurn'd
A mortal Birth, beheld his Navy burn'd,
And fled affrighted through his Father's Waves,
With his perfidious Host; his Host of Slaves,
Freed from those Chains, with which his Rage design'd,
Impious! the freeborn Sons of Rome to bind.
Reserv'd for pious Feasts, and Joys divine?
Cæsar with Conquest comes, and gracious Jove,
Who gave that Conquest, shall our Joys approve:
Then bid the Breath of Harmony inspire
The Doric Flute, and wake the Phrygian Lyre;
As late when the Neptunian Youth, who spurn'd
A mortal Birth, beheld his Navy burn'd,
And fled affrighted through his Father's Waves,
With his perfidious Host; his Host of Slaves,
Freed from those Chains, with which his Rage design'd,
Impious! the freeborn Sons of Rome to bind.
453
The Roman Troops (Oh! be the Tale denied
By future Times) enslav'd to Woman's Pride,
And to a wither'd Eunuch's Will severe
Basely subdued, the Toils of War could bear.
Amidst the Roman Eagles Sol survey'd,
O Shame! th'Ægyptian Canopy display'd;
When twice a thousand Gauls aloud proclaim,
Indignant at the Sight, great Cæsar's Name,
And a brave Fleet, by just Resentment led,
Turn'd their broad Prows, and to our Havens fled.
By future Times) enslav'd to Woman's Pride,
And to a wither'd Eunuch's Will severe
Basely subdued, the Toils of War could bear.
Amidst the Roman Eagles Sol survey'd,
O Shame! th'Ægyptian Canopy display'd;
When twice a thousand Gauls aloud proclaim,
Indignant at the Sight, great Cæsar's Name,
And a brave Fleet, by just Resentment led,
Turn'd their broad Prows, and to our Havens fled.
Come, God of Triumphs, bring the golden Car,
The untam'd Heifers, and the Spoils of War,
For He, whose Virtue rais'd his awful Tomb
O'er ruin'd Carthage, ne'er return'd to Rome
So great and glorious, nor could Lybia's Field
To Thee, O Triumph, such a Leader yield.
The untam'd Heifers, and the Spoils of War,
For He, whose Virtue rais'd his awful Tomb
O'er ruin'd Carthage, ne'er return'd to Rome
So great and glorious, nor could Lybia's Field
To Thee, O Triumph, such a Leader yield.
455
Pursued by Land and Sea, the vanquish'd Foe
Hath chang'd his Purple for the Garb of Woe;
With Winds, no more his own; with shatter'd Fleet,
He seeks the far-fam'd hundred Towns of Crete;
To tempest-beaten Lybia speeds his Way,
Or drives a Vagrant through th'uncertain Sea.
Hath chang'd his Purple for the Garb of Woe;
With Winds, no more his own; with shatter'd Fleet,
He seeks the far-fam'd hundred Towns of Crete;
To tempest-beaten Lybia speeds his Way,
Or drives a Vagrant through th'uncertain Sea.
Boy, bring us larger Bowls, and fill them round
With Chian, or the Lesbian Vintage crown'd,
Or rich Cæcubian, which may best restrain
These sickening Qualms, and fortify the Brain.
Th'inspiring Juice shall the gay Banquet warm,
Nor Cæsar's Danger shall our Fears alarm.
With Chian, or the Lesbian Vintage crown'd,
Or rich Cæcubian, which may best restrain
These sickening Qualms, and fortify the Brain.
Th'inspiring Juice shall the gay Banquet warm,
Nor Cæsar's Danger shall our Fears alarm.
| A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | |