 | The odes, epodes and Carmen Seculare of Horace (1719) |  |
EPODE XIV. To Mecænas.
'Tis Death to hear you teaze me so,
Give o'er, and let me rest:
I neither dull nor senseless grow,
But Love has all my Soul possess'd.
Give o'er, and let me rest:
I neither dull nor senseless grow,
But Love has all my Soul possess'd.
For him I quit my promis'd Strains,
And must forsake the Muse;
The God through all my Senses reigns,
Instilling soft Lethæan Juice.
And must forsake the Muse;
The God through all my Senses reigns,
Instilling soft Lethæan Juice.
Love softens and unbends my Mind,
Disarms my keenest Spite;
My Epodes can no Passage find,
Ev'n though Mecænas bids me write.
Disarms my keenest Spite;
My Epodes can no Passage find,
Ev'n though Mecænas bids me write.
Thus when Anacreon lov'd the Boy,
Bathyllus fair and young;
Love was the Theme that ne'er could cloy,
He durst attempt no other Song.
Bathyllus fair and young;
Love was the Theme that ne'er could cloy,
He durst attempt no other Song.
Me you can never chide nor blame,
Too well the Cause you know;
And feel as rich, as bright a Flame,
As laid the Trojan Ramparts low.
Too well the Cause you know;
And feel as rich, as bright a Flame,
As laid the Trojan Ramparts low.
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Be happy; yet amidst your Joys,
With Pity view my Pains;
The wanton Phryne is my Choice,
A Slave, and yet I wear her Chains.
With Pity view my Pains;
The wanton Phryne is my Choice,
A Slave, and yet I wear her Chains.
| The odes, epodes and Carmen Seculare of Horace (1719) | |