The works of Horace, translated into verse :: :: University of Virginia Library

The works of Horace, translated into verse

With a prose interpretation, for the help of students. And occasional notes. By Christopher Smart ... In four volumes

Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

VOLUME I.

[dedication]

THE FIRST BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.

ODE I. TO MÆCENAS.

II.

ODE II. TO AUGUSTUS CÆSAR.

III.

ODE III.

IV.

ODE IV. TO SEXTIUS, A PERSON OF CONSULAR DIGNITY .

ODE V. TO PYRRHA.

VI.

ODE VI. TO AGRIPPA.

VII.

ODE VII. TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS, A PERSON OF CONSULAR DIGNITY

VIII.

ODE VIII. TO LYDIA.

IX.

ODE IX. TO THALIARCHUS.

ODE X. TO MERCURY.

XI.

ODE XI. TO LEUCONOE.

XII.

ODE XII. TO AUGUSTUS.

XIII.

ODE XIII. TO LYDIA.

XIV.

ODE XIV. TO THE REPUBLIC OF ROME, ON THE RENEWAL OF THE CIVIL WAR.

XV.

ODE XV. THE PREDICTIONS OF NEREUS CONCERNING THE DESTRUCTION OF TROY.

XVI.

ODE XVI. TO HIS MISTRESS.

XVII.

ODE XVII. TO TYNDARIS.

XVIII.

ODE XVIII. TO QUINTILIUS VARUS.

XIX.

ODE XIX. OF GLYCERA.

XX.

ODE XX. TO MÆCENAS.

XXI.

ODE XXI. TO APOLLO AND DIANA.

XXII.

ODE XXII. TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS.

XXIII.

ODE XXIII. TO CHLOE.

XXIV.

ODE XXIV. TO VIRGIL.

XXV.

ODE XXV. TO LYDIA.

XXVI.

ODE XXVI. TO THE MUSE, CONCERNING ÆLIUS LAMIA.

XXVII.

ODE XXVII. TO HIS BOTTLE-COMPANIONS.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

ODE XXXII. TO HIS LYRE.

XXXIII.

ODE XXXIII. TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS.

XXXIV.

ODE XXXIV. TO HIMSELF.

XXXV.

ODE XXXV. TO FORTUNE.

XXXVI.

ODE XXXVI. TO POMPONIUS NUMIDA.

XXXVII.

ODE XXXVII. TO HIS COMPANIONS.

XXXVIII.

ODE XXXVIII. TO HIS SERVANT.

THE SECOND BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.

ODE I. TO C. ASINIUS POLLIO.

II.

ODE II. TO C. SALLUSTIUS CRISPUS.

III.

ODE III. TO DELLIUS.

IV.

ODE IV. TO XANTHIUS PHOCEUS.

ODE V. ON LALAGE.

VI.

ODE VI. TO SEPTIMIUS.

VII.

ODE VII. TO POMPEIUS VARUS.

VIII.

ODE VIII. TO JULIA BARINE.

IX.

ODE IX. TO VALGIUS.

ODE X. TO LICINIUS.

XI.

ODE XI. TO QUINTIUS HIRPINUS.

XII.

ODE XII. TO MÆCENAS.

XIII.

ODE XIII. UPON THE TREE BY WHOSE SUDDEN FALL HE HAD LIKE TO HAVE BEEN CRUSHED.

XIV.

ODE XIV. TO POSTHUMUS.

XV.

ODE XV. UPON THE LUXURY OF THE AGE HE LIVED IN.

XVI.

ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS.

XVII.

ODE XVII. TO MÆCENAS, WHEN SICK.

XVIII.

ODE XVIII.

XIX.

ODE XIX. ON BACCHUS.

XX.

ODE XX. TO MÆCENAS.

THE THIRD BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.

ODE I.

II.

ODE II. TO HIS FRIRNDS.

III.

ODE III.

IV.

ODE IV.

ODE V.

VI.

ODE VI. TO THE ROMANS, ON THE CORRUPT MANNERS OF HIS AGE.

VII.

ODE VII. TO ASTERIE.

VIII.

ODE VIII. TO MÆCENAS.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

ODE XIII. TO THE FOUNTAIN BLANDUSIA.

XIV.

ODE XIV. TO THE ROMAN PEOPLE.

II.

VOLUME II.

THE THIRD BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE [Cont'd.].

XV.

ODE XV. ON CHLORIS.

XVI.

ODE XVI. TO MÆCENAS.

XVII.

ODE XVII. TO ÆLIUS LAMIA.

XVIII.

ODE XVIII. TO FAUNUS.

XIX.

ODE XIX. TO TELEPHUS.

XX.

ODE XX. TO PYRRHUS.

XXI.

ODE XXI. TO HIS WINE-JAR.

XXII.

ODE XXII. TO DIANA.

XXIII.

ODE XXIII TO PHIDILE.

XXIV.

ODE XXIV. UPON THE RICH AND COVETOUS.

XXV.

ODE XXV. TO BACCHUS.

XXVI.

ODE XXVI. TO VENUS.

XXVII.

ODE XXVII. TO GALATEA, ON POINT TO GO ABROAD.

XXVIII.

ODE XXVIII. TO LYDE.

XXIX.

ODE XXIX. TO MÆCENAS.

XXX.

ODE XXX. TO THE MUSE MELPOMENE.

THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.

ODE I. TO VENUS.

II.

ODE II. TO ANTONIUS JULUS, THE SON OF MARK ANTONY, OF THE TRIUMVIRATE.

III.

ODE III. TO MELPOMENE.

IV.

ODE IV. TO THE CITY OF ROME, CONCERNING THE GENIUS OF DRUSUS, AND HIS EDUCATION UNDER AUGUSTUS.

ODE V. TO AUGUSTUS.

VI.

ODE VI. TO APOLLO AND DIANA.

VII.

ODE VII. TO L. MANLIUS TORQUATUS.

VIII.

ODE VIII. TO MARTIUS CENSORINUS.

IX.

ODE IX. TO LOLLIUS.

ODE X. TO PHYLLIS.

XI.

ODE XI. TO VIRGIL.

XII.

ODE XII. UPON LYCE, AN ANTIQUATED COURTEZAN.

XIII.

ODE XIII. TO AUGUSTUS.

XIV.

ODE XIV. THE PRAISES OF AUGUSTUS.

THE BOOK OF THE EPODES OF HORACE.

EPODE I. TO MÆCENAS.

II.

EPODE II. THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE.

III.

EPODE III. TO MÆCENAS.

IV.

EPODE IV. TO VOLTEIUS MENA.

EPODE V. UPON CANIDIA THE SORCERESS.

VI.

EPODE VI. AGAINST CASSIUS SEVERUS.

VII.

EPODE VII. TO THE ROMAN PEOPLE.

VIII.

EPODE VIII. TO MÆCENAS.

IX.

EPODE IX. AGAINST MÆVIUS THE POET.

EPODE X. TO PETTIUS, A BON-COMPANION OF HIS.

XI.

EFODE XI. TO HIS HUMOUROUS FRIENDS, THAT THEY WOULD PASS THE WINTER MERRILY.

XII.

EPODE XII. TO MÆCENAS.

XIII.

EPODE XIII. TO HIS MISTRESS NEÆRA

XIV.

EPODE XIV. TO THE PEOPLE OF ROME.

XV.

EPODE XV. TO CANIDIA.

XVI.

EPODE XVI. CANIDIA'S ANSWER

THE SECULAR ODE

[section]

ODE ON SAINT CECILIA'S DAY

III.

VOLUME III.

THE FIRST BOOK OF THE SATIRES OF HORACE.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

SATIRE VI. To Mæcenas.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

THE SECOND BOOK OF THE SATIRES OF HORACE.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IV.

THE FIRST BOOK OF THE EPISTLES OF HORACE.

EPISTLE I. To Mæcenas.

II.

EPISTLE II. To Lollius.

III.

EPISTLE III. To Julius Florus.

IV.

EPISTLE IV. To Albius Tibullus.

EPISTLE V. To Torquatus.

VI.

EPISTLE VI. To Numicius.

VII.

EPISTLE VII. To Mæcenas.

VIII.

EPISTLE VIII. To Celsus Albinovanus.

IX.

EPISTLE IX. To Claudius Nero.

EPISTLE X. To Fuscus Aristius.

XI.

EPISTLE XI. To Bullatius returned from Asia.

XII.

EPISTLE XII. To Iccius.

XIII.

EPISTLE XIII. To Vinnius Asella.

XIV.

EPISTLE XIV. To his Steward in the Country.

XV.

EPISTLE XV. To Vala.

XVI.

EPISTLE XVI. To Quintius.

XVII.

EPISTLE XVII. To Scæva.

XVIII.

EPISTLE XVIII. To Lollius.

XIX.

EPISTLE XIX. To Mæcenas.

XX.

EPISTLE XX. To his Book.

THE SECOND BOOK OF THE EPISTLES OF HORACE.

EPISTLE I. To Augustus.

II.

EPISTLE II. To Julius Florus.

HORACE HIS ART OF POETRY.

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EPISTLE VI. To Numicius.

To hold nothing in too high admiration, is a thing which he asserts to be almost solely effectual for the happiness of life.

Of nothing to be over-fond,
Numicius, is contentment's bond;
This makes and keeps the bed of rest—
There are, who with unanxious breast,
Can view the sun, and starry pole,
And seasons, which by periods roll.
What think you of earth's golden mine,
And wealth, on either side the line,
With which the wafting ocean stores
The Arabs, and the Indian shores?
Then as for plays, and shows of state,
The people's favours to the great,
In what light are they to be view'd,
And what from thence must sense conclude?
Who dreads the contrary of these,
Not so the wond'ring fondness flees,
Stupidity o'er each prevails,
If fortune lift, or load the scales:
Rejoice, or grieve, desire, or fear,
What matters it?—shou'd things appear
Or better far, or worse than hope,
If man and mind become a mope,

Let Wise-men bear the name of fools,
The jest of those, that break all rules;
If Virtue's self they shall pursue,
Beyond the laws, and limits due.

Look now on plate with wond'ring eye,
For ancient busts, and bronzes sigh!
To all politer arts aspire,
And gems and Tyrian dies admire;
Rejoice that when you make harrangue,
On thee ten thousand gazers hang,
Seek to the bar by morning light,
And come not home till late at night,
Lest Mucius from his lady's dow'r,
Shou'd reap more corn than in your pow'r,
Still holding it in highest scorn,
That he of meaner parents born,
Shou'd rather show himself than you,
More admirable of the two.
Whatever up in earth they lay,
Time shall expose to open day,
And things shall bury deep, and hide,
What now shine in the greatest pride.
Tho' in the Appian way you go,
And still yourself with grandeur show,
Beneath Agrippa's Portico;
Yet thither must your course be bent,
Where Numa, and where Ancus went.

If any virulent disease;
Your reins, or either side shou'd seize,

Seek remedy—wou'd you excel
In life, as who wou'd not do well;
If worth alone can this atchieve;
For virtue then your pleasures leave.
Virtue, perhaps, is understood
As made of words, like trees, of wood.
If so, then make the port with speed,
See, no one your own ship precede,
Lest you perchance shou'd lose the fair,
And selling of your foreign ware:
At once a thousand talents sweep,
An equal sum to crown the heap,
A third to widen the amount,
A fourth to square the whole account;
For money, monarch of this life,
Gains you a portion with your wife,
Gives credit, friends—will heralds buy,
To blaze you of a family,
Gives beauty and when wealth is great,
There Venus and Suadela wait.
The Cappadocian king, they say,
Has slaves, but has no cash to pay;
Not so your own affairs dispose—
Lucullus, as the story goes,
Ask'd by some persons on the stage,
If he could possibly engage,
An hundred cloaks at once to lend.—
Cried, how can I so many send?

But I will look amongst my ware,
And furnish what there is to spare.
Anon, he writes them word, to call
For full five thousand, part, or all.
'Tis a mean house, that has not got
Redundant wealth, which profits not
The rich possessor, but deceives,
And is the bait, and gain of thieves.

Wherefore, if wealth alone increase,
Means and duration for our peace,
Be first this business to atchieve,
And be the last of all to leave:
Besides, if fortune's minions are,
The splendid and the popular,
Then some shrewd servant let us buy,
The names of voters to supply,
Jog our left-side, and give a tread
Upon our toes, the hands to spread,
In token of our profer'd grace,
Spite of all obstacle and place.
“This man has interest to bribe
“The Fabian, or the Veline tribe,
“That bustler gives the consulate,
“Or takes away the chair of state.”
Then with appellatives endear
With father, brother, in their ear,
According to their sev'ral age,
Adopt them to your patronage.

If he lives happiest, who feeds
The daintiest, where the gullet leads

Let us set out at early day
To fish, to hunt, as was the way
Gargilius chose not long ago,
Who nets, poles, servants, for a show
Made thro' the thickest croud to pass,
That one boar thrown a cross an ass,
Might to the populace appear
When taken with the silver spear.

Let us with loaded stomachs swim,
Confounding decency and whim,
As lawless as Ulysses' crew,
Who were determined to pursue
All vice and pleasures contraband,
Rather than make their native land.

If with Mimnermus you agree,
That there is no felicity
But what is found in love and jest,
Then rake and rally with the best.—

Health and long life, my friend, await!
Be candid—and communicate,
If better rules of life you've got,
But practise these with me, if not.

This fellow, probably, had the cloathing of a legion.