 | The odes, epodes and Carmen Seculare of Horace (1719) |  |
ODE VII. To Pompeius Varus.
Which of the Gods my gen'rous Friend preserv'd,
And brought him to his Native Land?
With whom so long ago in Arms I serv'd,
When Brutus did our Troops Command:
With whom such Toils I bore, such Dangers try'd:
Thou dearest to my Soul of all Mankind beside!
And brought him to his Native Land?
With whom so long ago in Arms I serv'd,
When Brutus did our Troops Command:
With whom such Toils I bore, such Dangers try'd:
Thou dearest to my Soul of all Mankind beside!
With thee I march'd to fam'd Philippi's Plain,
But could not stand the Bloody Field;
Whilst daring Heroes mingled with the Slain,
Unmade for Arms, I dropt my Shield.
With thee the smiling Hours I oft consum'd,
With sprightly Joy inspir'd, with Syrian Oil perfum'd.
But could not stand the Bloody Field;
Whilst daring Heroes mingled with the Slain,
Unmade for Arms, I dropt my Shield.
With thee the smiling Hours I oft consum'd,
With sprightly Joy inspir'd, with Syrian Oil perfum'd.
Me, midst the dreadful Rout and Dinn of Arms,
The God of Wit and Eloquence
Wrapt in a Cloud, and sav'd from fighting Harms,
And timely came to my Defence:
Whilst War's strong Tide returning as before
Thee in her Whirlpool caught, and to new Slaughter bore.
The God of Wit and Eloquence
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And timely came to my Defence:
Whilst War's strong Tide returning as before
Thee in her Whirlpool caught, and to new Slaughter bore.
Now then, to Jove make good your solemn Vows,
And underneath my Laurel rest:
Spare not the Hogshead destin'd for your use,
Forget your Toils, and crown the Feast;
From costly Shells the breathing Odours pour,
And let the pond'rous Bowl with sprightly Wine run oe'r.
And underneath my Laurel rest:
Spare not the Hogshead destin'd for your use,
Forget your Toils, and crown the Feast;
From costly Shells the breathing Odours pour,
And let the pond'rous Bowl with sprightly Wine run oe'r.
What Slave with Myrtle Wreaths shall crown our Brows?
What Sovereign, what drunken Lord,
Shall the fair Queen of Love and Beauty chuse,
To rule the Feast, and sway the Board?
Since you are come, with Freedom I resign
Each Faculty and Sense, to Friendship and to Wine.
What Sovereign, what drunken Lord,
Shall the fair Queen of Love and Beauty chuse,
To rule the Feast, and sway the Board?
Since you are come, with Freedom I resign
Each Faculty and Sense, to Friendship and to Wine.
| The odes, epodes and Carmen Seculare of Horace (1719) | |