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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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Ode VII. To Munatius Plancus.
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31

Ode VII. To Munatius Plancus.

Let other Poets, in harmonious Lays,
Immortal Rhodes or Mitylene praise,
Or Ephesus, or Corinth's towery Pride,
Girt by the rolling Main on either Side;
Or Thebes or Delphos, for their Gods renown'd,
Or Tempe's Plains with flowery Honours crown'd.
There are, who sing in everlasting Strains
The Towers, where Wisdom's Virgin-Goddess reigns;
And ceaseless toiling court the trite Reward
Of Olive, pluck'd by every vulgar Bard.
For Juno's Fame, th'unnumber'd, tuneful Throng
With rich Mycenæ grace their favourite Song,
And Argos boast, of pregnant Glebe to feed
The warlike Horse, and animate the Breed:
But me, nor patient Lacedæmon charms,
Nor fair Larissa with such Transport warms,
As pure Albunea's far-resounding Source,
And rapid Anio, headlong in his Course,

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Or Tibur, fenc'd by Groves from solar Beams,
And fruitful Orchats bath'd by ductile Streams.
[OMITTED]
[OMITTED]
As Notus often, when the Welkin low'rs,
Sweeps off the Clouds, nor teems perpetual Show'rs,
So let thy Wisdom, free from anxious Strife,
In mellow Wine dissolve the Cares of Life,
Whether the Camp with Banners bright-display'd,
Or Tibur holds thee in its thick-wrought Shade.
When Teucer from his Sire and Country fled,
With Poplar Wreaths the Hero crown'd his Head
Reeking with Wine, and thus his Friends address'd,
Deep Sorrow brooding in each anxious Breast;
Bold let us follow through the foamy Tides,
Where Fortune, better than a Father, guides;

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Avaunt Despair, when Teucer calls to Fame,
The same your Augur, and your Guide the same.
Another Salamis in foreign Clime,
With rival Pride shall raise her Head sublime.
So Phœbus nods; ye Sons of Valour true,
Full often try'd in Deeds of deadlier Hue,
To-day with Wine drive every Care away,
To-morrow tempt again the boundless Sea.