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The Odes and Epodon of Horace, In Five Books

Translated into English by J. H. [i.e. John Harington]
(1627?-1700)

collapse section1. 
First Book.
 1. 
To MÆCENAS. Ode I.
 2. 
To AUGUSTUS. Ode 2.
 III. 
Ode III.
 IV. 
To L. SEXTIUS. Ode IV.
 5. 
To PYRRHA. Ode 5.
 VI. 
To AGRIPPA. Ode VI.
 7. 
To MUNATIUS PLANCUS. Ode 7.
 8. 
To LYDIA. Ode 8.
 IX. 
To THALIARCHUS. Ode IX.
 X. 
To MERCURY. Ode X.
 XI. 
To LEUCONOE. Ode XI.
 XII. 
To AUGUSTUS. Ode XII.
 XIII. 
To LYDIA. Ode XIII.
 XIV. 
To the Roman State, then renewing Civil Wars again. Ode. XIV.
 XV. 
NEREUS his Prophesie of the ruine of Troy. Ode XV.
 XVI. 
To his Love. Ode XVI.
 XVII. 
To TYNDARIS. Ode XVII.
 18. 
To VARIUS. Ode 18.
 XIX. 
To GLICERA. Ode XIX.
 XX. 
To MÆCENAS. Ode XX.
 XXI. 
Upon DIANA and APOLLO. Ode XXI.
 XXII. 
To ARISTIUS. Ode XXII.
 XXIII. 
To CHLOE. Ode XXIII.
 XXIV. 
To VIRGIL. Ode XXIV.
 XXV. 
To LYDIA. Ode XXV.
 XXVI. 
To his Muse, touching ÆLIUS LAMIUS. Ode XXVI.
 XXVII. 
To his Companions, That they should not quarrel in their Cups, barbarous fashion. Ode XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
Ode XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
To ACCIUS. Ode XXIX.
 XXX. 
To VENUS. Ode XXX.
 XXXI. 
To APOLLO. Ode XXXI.
 XXXII. 
To his Harp. Ode XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
To ALBIUS TIBULLUS. Ode XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
To Himself. Ode XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
To FORTUNE. Ode XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
To POMPONIUS NUMIDAS. Ode XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
To His COMPANIONS. Ode XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
To His SERVANT. Ode XXXVIII.
expand sectionII. 
HORACE HIS SECOND BOOK OF ODES.
expand sectionIII. 
HORACE HIS THIRD BOOK OF ODES.
expand section 
HORACE HIS FOURTH BOOK OF ODES.
expand section 
HORACE HIS BOOK EPODON.

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To his Love. Ode XVI.

He recants, asking her Pardon for his wronging her in some Iambicks; laying the blame on his Passion.

O Daughter fairer than the Mother fair,
Give those my guilty Iambick verse (nor spare)
Any Doom which most shall please,
Devouring Fire, or Adrian Seas.
Not CYBEL great (nor PHÆBUS there who dwells)
So shakes the Mind of Priests in hallow'd Cells,
LIBER so, nor shrill-tun'd Brass,
Beat Coribants mad Priestly race,
As Anger moves; whom neither Norick Sword
Can daunt, nor Sea, with Wracks tempestuous stor'd:
Cruel flame, nor JOVE'S dread Voice,
When hurries down with thundring Noise.
PROMETHEUS parts from divers Beasts (as fam'd)
To that chief Mud conjoyn'd, when man he fram'd,
Forced so, and did invest
With furious Lyons Heart our brest.
Anger o're-turn'd, with ruine did confound
THYESTES wretch; that plows the Cause and ground
Of lofty'st Cities overthrow,
Till th' unappeas'd, insulting Foe.
Their Plough hostile hath drawn quite ore the Walls
Thy mind allay Me too (which Youth befalls)
Fervent Heat more strongly mov'd,
Till of those hasty Verses prov'd
Composer wild; now wrangling Jars to change
I wish for gentler Mood, would'st thou less strange
(Obloquies recanted more)
Turn'd Friend, thy first kind thoughts restore.
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