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23

Horace, Book I. ODE XXII. .

TRANSLATED

I

Impenetrable Innocence
Dear W---d! is the securest Fence:
Nor Lybian Spear nor Parthian Dart,
Of this possest, can touch the Heart.

II

Whether thro' Africk's Sands it goes,
Or hoary Iman's deepest Snows;
Or (where to grace the beauteous Scene)
Hydaspes winds his Silver Stream.

III

For late as in the Sabine Grove,
Careless I stray'd and sung my Love;
A horrid Wolf amidst the Shade,
The solitary Lover fled.

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IV

A Beast whose Look inspir'd more Awe,
The Daunian Desart never saw;
Or yet Numidia's scorching Plain,
A Land of Monsters, not of Men!

V

Place me, ye Pow'rs, in that dread Place,
Where Phœbus hides his chearful Face,
And o'er the dark benighted Plains,
Bleak Tempests brood, and Coldness reigns.

VI

Or place me near the sultry Line
Where all his Beams collected shine;
And the wide sandy burning Glades,
No Streams refresh, no Verdure shades.

VII

Yet there amidst th' inclement Soil,
Love should my wearied Soul beguile;
Emilia's Virtue still should charm,
Emilia's Image keep me safe from Harm.