 | Poetical essays on Several Occasions |  |
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HORACE.
L. I. Ode VIII.
Prithee, Lydia, tell me why,By all the Gods who rule the Sky,
The Youth Sybaris bold and brave
Is now become thy am'rous Slave?
Once he was wont to range the Plain,
Nor fear'd the Sun, the Dust or Rain;
Why does he cease to take delight
In manly Sports, and martial Fight?
Why fear to ride the gen'rous Horse,
And with the Spur correct his Course?
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And dread to plunge in Tiber's Flood?
With vig'rous Arm no longer throw
The pond'rous Disk, or bend the Bow?
Whirl o'er his Head the Dart around,
And fix it far beyond the bound?
Why does the Youth his Cohorts shun,
And lie conceal'd like Thetis' Son,
Who in a Woman's Dress attir'd,
Ignobly from the Croud retir'd?
L. I. Ode IX.
See, Thaliarch my dearest Friend,
The wintry Skies in Snow descend,
The Woods are whiten'd, and with Pain
The still increasing Load sustain;
Yon Mountain' tops are cover'd o'er,
And Streams transfixed glide no more.
The wintry Skies in Snow descend,
The Woods are whiten'd, and with Pain
The still increasing Load sustain;
Yon Mountain' tops are cover'd o'er,
And Streams transfixed glide no more.
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Then let the gen'rous Sabine flow,
And cheerful Fires around you glow.
Fill up again the sparkling Bowl
To chase the Frost, and cheer the Soul;
No more for worthless Trifles pine,
But to the Gods your Cares resign.
At their Command the Tempests cease,
The troubled Air is hush'd to peace;
The Waves retire; the Winds are still,
And Silence broods on every Hill;
No more the aged Elms are shook,
And not a Zephyr stirs the Brook.
And cheerful Fires around you glow.
Fill up again the sparkling Bowl
To chase the Frost, and cheer the Soul;
No more for worthless Trifles pine,
But to the Gods your Cares resign.
At their Command the Tempests cease,
The troubled Air is hush'd to peace;
The Waves retire; the Winds are still,
And Silence broods on every Hill;
No more the aged Elms are shook,
And not a Zephyr stirs the Brook.
Strive not with anxious Thought to pry
Into thy secret Destiny;
Enjoy each Day which Fate shall give,
And easy, and contented live.
Let Beauty sometimes court thy Eyes,
Nor too severely Love despise,
Before thy sprightly Youth is fled,
And Age comes on with hoary Head.
Let Dancing, Exercise, and Play
Succeed, and crown each shining Day,
While gentle Slumbers bless the Night,
And murm'ring Streams to Sleep invite.
Now pleas'd to see some Fair-one's Smiles,
Her ogling Looks and am'rous Wiles;
To steal a Ring or trifling Toy,
While hypocritically coy,
She half unwilling feigns to fly,
Still granting, when she wou'd deny.
Into thy secret Destiny;
Enjoy each Day which Fate shall give,
And easy, and contented live.
Let Beauty sometimes court thy Eyes,
Nor too severely Love despise,
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And Age comes on with hoary Head.
Let Dancing, Exercise, and Play
Succeed, and crown each shining Day,
While gentle Slumbers bless the Night,
And murm'ring Streams to Sleep invite.
Now pleas'd to see some Fair-one's Smiles,
Her ogling Looks and am'rous Wiles;
To steal a Ring or trifling Toy,
While hypocritically coy,
She half unwilling feigns to fly,
Still granting, when she wou'd deny.
L. II. Ode XV.
How fast the stately Piles ascend,And o'er departing Fields extend?
The Fish-ponds too enlarge their Bound,
And on the Continent get ground:
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Which Nature wise, and frugal makes.
Now Jessamin, and Myrtle Bowers,
Lime-trees, and odorif'rous Flow'rs
Stand where fat Olives us'd to thrive,
When our Fore-fathers were alive.
The Sun can hardly force his way
Thro' Groves of Ever-green, and Bay.
Wise Romulus, nor Cato grave,
With rigid Mind, such Lessons gave.
Then was the public Treasure great,
While they enjoy'd a small Estate.
No ten-foot Porticos did then
Refresh the Doors of private Men:
Nor did the Laws lay hold of those
Who us'd green Turf for their Repose.
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L. IV. Ode VII.
Now the gay Spring her new Attire puts on,
The Hedges bloom, and Frosts and Snows are gone.
Once more the rolling Earth renews the Scene;
Once more the Fields are cloath'd in charming Green:
O'erflowing Streams within their Banks subside,
And in their ancient Channels smoothly glide.
The Graces, Nymphs, and all the rural Train
In naked Dances tread the smiling Plain.
The Hedges bloom, and Frosts and Snows are gone.
Once more the rolling Earth renews the Scene;
Once more the Fields are cloath'd in charming Green:
O'erflowing Streams within their Banks subside,
And in their ancient Channels smoothly glide.
The Graces, Nymphs, and all the rural Train
In naked Dances tread the smiling Plain.
Hope not, frail Man, for an immortal State,
Perpetual Changes warn thee of thy Fate.
The fleeting Moments, the revolving Years
Fly swiftly round, and whirl about the Spheres.
In silent Haste, Time softly steals away,
And soon concludes the kind, the jovial Day.
Behold the shifting Seasons take their Turns,
First blooms the Spring, then sultry Summer burns;
Autumn succeeds with loaded Plenty crown'd,
Then torpid Winter lags her lazy Round.
The silver Moon soon rises from her Night,
And fills her Horns afresh with borrow'd Light;
But when we launch, and reach the unknown Shore,
Our Sun is set, and will return no more.
There in still Groves Æneas' Shade is blest,
There Tullus, and good Ancus peaceful rest.
Perpetual Changes warn thee of thy Fate.
The fleeting Moments, the revolving Years
Fly swiftly round, and whirl about the Spheres.
In silent Haste, Time softly steals away,
And soon concludes the kind, the jovial Day.
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First blooms the Spring, then sultry Summer burns;
Autumn succeeds with loaded Plenty crown'd,
Then torpid Winter lags her lazy Round.
The silver Moon soon rises from her Night,
And fills her Horns afresh with borrow'd Light;
But when we launch, and reach the unknown Shore,
Our Sun is set, and will return no more.
There in still Groves Æneas' Shade is blest,
There Tullus, and good Ancus peaceful rest.
Thou know'st not what th'immortal Pow'rs design,
Nor can'st thou call to-morrow's Moments thine:
Haste then, be liberal, and freely give,
This Day may be the last thou hast to live,
E'er thy forsaken Wealth shall fall a Prey,
And by rapacious Heirs be snatch'd away.
When once we have receiv'd the fatal Doom,
And Death has fix'd us in the silent Tomb,
When awful Minos shall decree our Fate,
Not Beauty, Wit, or Wealth shall change our State;
Virtue with all its Charms will not avail,
To move the rigid Judge, or turn the Scale.
In vain wou'd Theseus break Pirithous' Chain,
Or chaste Diana free Hippolitus again.
Nor can'st thou call to-morrow's Moments thine:
Haste then, be liberal, and freely give,
This Day may be the last thou hast to live,
E'er thy forsaken Wealth shall fall a Prey,
And by rapacious Heirs be snatch'd away.
When once we have receiv'd the fatal Doom,
And Death has fix'd us in the silent Tomb,
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Not Beauty, Wit, or Wealth shall change our State;
Virtue with all its Charms will not avail,
To move the rigid Judge, or turn the Scale.
In vain wou'd Theseus break Pirithous' Chain,
Or chaste Diana free Hippolitus again.
L. I. Ode VII.
Some
Rhodes, some Mytilene prize,
Some lift fam'd Athens to the Skies
To Pallas sacred, and with Verse,
And Olives crown'd, her Praise rehearse.
Some Ephesus, and Corinth please,
Whose Walls are wash'd with double Seas:
Mycenas rich, and Argos known
For Horses swift, and Juno's Throne.
Some say that Tempe's Fields excel,
And wou'd in Thebes or Delphos dwell;
Thebes by the God of War renown'd,
And Delphos by Apollo crown'd.
Some lift fam'd Athens to the Skies
To Pallas sacred, and with Verse,
And Olives crown'd, her Praise rehearse.
Some Ephesus, and Corinth please,
Whose Walls are wash'd with double Seas:
Mycenas rich, and Argos known
For Horses swift, and Juno's Throne.
Some say that Tempe's Fields excel,
And wou'd in Thebes or Delphos dwell;
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And Delphos by Apollo crown'd.
For me, I scorn Larissa's Plains,
And Sparta where such Rigor reigns,
If with Albunca's Seats compar'd
Where Anion's rushing Streams are heard;
Tiburnus' Lake, where Orchards grow,
Water'd by rolling Floods below.
The weeping South not always brings
Dark Clouds and Moisture on its Wings;
Sun-shine, and Sky are sometimes seen
To open 'midst the gloomy Scene.
And Sparta where such Rigor reigns,
If with Albunca's Seats compar'd
Where Anion's rushing Streams are heard;
Tiburnus' Lake, where Orchards grow,
Water'd by rolling Floods below.
The weeping South not always brings
Dark Clouds and Moisture on its Wings;
Sun-shine, and Sky are sometimes seen
To open 'midst the gloomy Scene.
O! Plancus! thus from Toil forbear,
And mix some Pleasure with your Care,
Whether with shining Troops you rove,
Or peaceful seek Tiburnus' Grove.
When Teucer took his farewel Flight,
And shun'd his angry Father's sight,
Thus to his weeping Friends he said,
While Poplar Garlands crown'd his Head:
And mix some Pleasure with your Care,
Whether with shining Troops you rove,
Or peaceful seek Tiburnus' Grove.
When Teucer took his farewel Flight,
And shun'd his angry Father's sight,
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While Poplar Garlands crown'd his Head:
“My dear Companions, now we trust
“To Fortune, more than Parents just:
“Pursue her Star, in me confide,
“Nor fear while Teucer is your Guide.
“In Lands remote, Apollo cries,
“Another Salamine shall rise.
“Come ye, who long with me have dwelt,
“With me have oft worse Evils felt,
“Come, and in Wine your Sorrows steep,
“To-morrow we'll explore the Deep.
“To Fortune, more than Parents just:
“Pursue her Star, in me confide,
“Nor fear while Teucer is your Guide.
“In Lands remote, Apollo cries,
“Another Salamine shall rise.
“Come ye, who long with me have dwelt,
“With me have oft worse Evils felt,
“Come, and in Wine your Sorrows steep,
“To-morrow we'll explore the Deep.
| Poetical essays on Several Occasions | |