Juvenilia or, A collection of poems. Written between the ages of twelve and seventeen, by J. H. L. Hunt ... Fourth Edition |
 |
|
|
PARAPHRASE OF HORACE'S ODE, “INTEGER VITÆ,” &c.
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
 | Juvenilia |  |
44
PARAPHRASE OF HORACE'S ODE, “INTEGER VITÆ,” &c.
The man, my friend, that in his breast
With ev'ry purer virtue's blest,
Safe in his own approving heart
Needs not the Moor's protecting dart,
Or seeks to bend against the foe
With nervous arm the pliant bow,
Nor o'er his neck throws, proudly great,
The quiver big with pois'nous fate.
With ev'ry purer virtue's blest,
Safe in his own approving heart
Needs not the Moor's protecting dart,
Or seeks to bend against the foe
With nervous arm the pliant bow,
Nor o'er his neck throws, proudly great,
The quiver big with pois'nous fate.
Whether on Afric's desert coast,
Mid burning sands his steps are lost;
Or where Caucasian rocks on high
Lift their proud summits to the sky,
Heap'd with inhospitable snow
Pale gleaming o'er the plains below,
Or where the streams romantic glide
Of soft Hydaspe's silver tide.
Mid burning sands his steps are lost;
Or where Caucasian rocks on high
Lift their proud summits to the sky,
45
Pale gleaming o'er the plains below,
Or where the streams romantic glide
Of soft Hydaspe's silver tide.
For, as along the Sabine grove
I sung the beauties of my love,
And, free from care, too distant stray'd
Within its dark embow'ring shade;
The prowling wolf, with blood-shot eye,
Unarm'd, beheld me wand'ring nigh;
And, while I shook in silent dread,
With howls the rav'ning monster fled!
I sung the beauties of my love,
And, free from care, too distant stray'd
Within its dark embow'ring shade;
The prowling wolf, with blood-shot eye,
Unarm'd, beheld me wand'ring nigh;
And, while I shook in silent dread,
With howls the rav'ning monster fled!
Such, the grim terror of the wood,
Ne'er learnt to lap the trav'ller's blood,
Or from the panting victim tore
The quiv'ring limbs with stifled roar,
Where Daunia's spreading oaks arise
In rugged grandeur to the skies;
Or where the Moorish lion stalks
With monarch pride his arid walks.
Ne'er learnt to lap the trav'ller's blood,
Or from the panting victim tore
The quiv'ring limbs with stifled roar,
Where Daunia's spreading oaks arise
In rugged grandeur to the skies;
Or where the Moorish lion stalks
With monarch pride his arid walks.
O lay me where Sol's gayest child,
Refulgent Summer, never smil'd;
Nor Zephyr's mild refreshing breeze
Fann'd the rich foliage of the trees;
Where ev'ry black portentous cloud
And all the foggy vapours croud,
When angry Jove in noxious air
Extends his arm for vengeance bare;
Refulgent Summer, never smil'd;
Nor Zephyr's mild refreshing breeze
Fann'd the rich foliage of the trees;
46
And all the foggy vapours croud,
When angry Jove in noxious air
Extends his arm for vengeance bare;
O lay me where Sol, driving high,
Flames wide along the sultry sky,
No roof, beneath his parching ray,
To soothe the pilgrim's weary way;
Yet, yet will I, nor ask for more,
My lovely Lalage adore;
Her, who each love-wing'd hour beguiles,
As soft she speaks, and sweet she smiles!
Flames wide along the sultry sky,
No roof, beneath his parching ray,
To soothe the pilgrim's weary way;
Yet, yet will I, nor ask for more,
My lovely Lalage adore;
Her, who each love-wing'd hour beguiles,
As soft she speaks, and sweet she smiles!
| Juvenilia | |