The Works of Horace In English Verse By several hands. Collected and Published By Mr. Duncombe. With Notes Historical and Critical |
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 | The Works of Horace In English Verse |  |
34
ODE XI. To Pettius.
Ah! Pettius, I no more inditeMy Lyric Numbers with Delight,
Nor think of aught but Love.
Since first I spurn'd Inachia's Chain
Thrice Winter has resum'd his Reign
O'er every leafless Grove.
I blush, reflecting how my Name
The Topic of Discourse became
Through all this spacious Town;
Where by a downcast Look, and Breast
That heav'd with Sighs, at every Feast
The Lover soon was known.
‘Merit, if poor, can nought avail,
‘When weigh'd with Riches in the Scale,’
Tears streaming from my Eyes,
I thus to you complain'd, when Bowls
Of generous Liquor from our Souls
Had banish'd all Disguise.
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‘For such Indignities, to drive
‘This Passion from my Mind,
‘I'll cease henceforward to contend
‘On such unequal Terms, and send
‘My Sorrows to the Wind.’
When me thus resolute you saw,
And warn'd me homeward to withdraw;
With heedless Steps I stray'd
To her ah! too unfriendly Door,
Near which, for sleepless Nights before,
My Limbs have oft been laid.
Now soft Lycisca I prefer,
Unchang'd by gross Affronts from her,
Or free Advice of Friends,
‘'Till Dotage on some other Fair,
Who ties in Knots her Length of Hair,
My present Passion ends.
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