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The odes, epodes and Carmen Seculare of Horace (1719)

Oldisworth, William (1680-1734)

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THE ODES OF HORACE.
collapse sectionI. 
BOOK I.
 I. 
ODE I. To Mæcenas.
 II. 
ODE II. To Augustus.
 III. 
ODE III.
 IV. 
ODE IV. To Sestius.
 V. 
ODE V. To Pyrrha.
 VI. 
ODE VI. To Agrippa.
 VII. 
ODE VII. To Munatius Plancus.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. To Lydia.
 IX. 
ODE IX. To Thaliarchus.
 X. 
ODE X. To Mercury.
 XI. 
ODE XI. To Leuconoe.
 XII. 
ODE XII. To Augustus.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. To Lydia.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV.
 XV. 
ODE XV.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. To his Mistress.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. To Tyndaris.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII. To Quintilius Varus.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX.
 XX. 
ODE XX. To Mæcenas.
 XXI. 
ODE XXI.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII. To Aristius.
 XXIII. 
ODE XXIII. To Chloe.
 XXIV. 
ODE XXIV. To Virgil.
 XXV. 
ODE XXV. To Lydia.
 XXVI. 
ODE XXVI. To his Muse.
 XXVII. 
ODE XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
ODE XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
ODE XXIX. To Iccius.
 XXX. 
ODE XXX. To Venus.
 XXXI. 
ODE XXXI. To Apollo.
 XXXII. 
ODE XXXII. To his Harp.
 XXXIII. 
ODE XXXIII. To Albius Tibullus.
 XXXIV. 
ODE XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
ODE XXXV. To Fortune.
 XXXVI. 
ODE XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
ODE XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
ODE XXXVIII.
collapse sectionII. 
BOOK II.
 I. 
ODE I. To Asinius Pollio.
 II. 
ODE II. To C. Crispus Sallustius.
 III. 
ODE III. To Delius.
 IV. 
ODE IV. To Xanthias Phoceus.
 V. 
ODE V.
 VI. 
ODE VI. To Septimius.
 VII. 
ODE VII. To Pompeius Varus.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. To Barine.
 IX. 
ODE IX. To Valgius.
 X. 
ODE X. To Licinius Murena.
 XI. 
ODE XI. To Quintius Hirpinius.
 XII. 
ODE XII. To Mæcenas.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. To Posthumus.
 XV. 
ODE XV.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. To Grosphus.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. To Mæcenas.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX.
 XX. 
ODE XX. To Mæcenas.
collapse sectionIII. 
BOOK III.
 I. 
ODE I. To Asinius Pollio.
 II. 
ODE II.
 III. 
ODE III.
 IV. 
ODE IV. To Calliope.
 V. 
ODE V.
 VI. 
ODE VI.
 VII. 
ODE VII. To Asterie.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. To Mæcenas
 IX. 
ODE IX.
 X. 
ODE X. To Lyce.
 XI. 
ODE XI. To Mercury.
 XII. 
ODE XII. To Neobule.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV.
 XV. 
ODE XV. To Chloris.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. To Mæcenas.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. To Ælius Lamia.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII. To Faunus.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX. To Telephus.
 XX. 
ODE XX. To Pyrrhus.
 XXI. 
ODE XXI.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII. To Diana.
 XXIII. 
ODE XXIII. To Phidyle.
 XXIV. 
ODE XXIV.
 XXV. 
ODE XXV. To Bacchus.
 XXVI. 
ODE XXVI. To Venus.
 XXVII. 
ODE XXVII. To Galatea.
 XXVIII. 
ODE XXVIII. To Lyde.
 XXIX. 
ODE XXIX. To Mæcenas.
 XXX. 
ODE XXX.
collapse sectionIV. 
BOOK IV.
 I. 
ODE I. To Venus.
 II. 
ODE II. To Antonius Julus.
 III. 
ODE III. To Melpomene.
 IV. 
ODE IV.
 V. 
ODE V. To Augustus.
 VI. 
ODE VI. To Apollo.
 VII. 
ODE VII. To Torquatus.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. To Censorinus.
 IX. 
ODE IX. To Lollius.
 X. 
ODE X. Ligurinus.
 XI. 
ODE XI. To Phyllis.
 XII. 
ODE XII. To Virgil.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. To Lyce.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. To Augustus.
 XV. 
ODE XV.
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THE EPODES OF HORACE.
 I. 
EPODE I. To Mæcenas.
 II. 
EPODE II.
 III. 
EPODE III. To Mæcenas.
 IV. 
EPODE IV. To Mena.
 V. 
EPODE V.
 VI. 
EPODE VI. To Cassius Severus.
 VII. 
EPODE VII. To the People of Rome.
 VIII. 
EPODE VIII.
 IX. 
EPODE IX. To Mecænas.
 X. 
EPODE X.
 XI. 
ODE XI. To Pettius.
 XII. 
EPODE XII.
 XIII. 
EPODE XIII.
 XIV. 
EPODE XIV. To Mecænas.
 XV. 
EPODE XV. To Neæra.
 XVI. 
EPODE XVI.
 XVII. 
EPODE XVII. Horace and Canidia.
  
The Secular ODE of Horace.

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ODE XVI. To Grosphus.

The Sailor longs and prays for Ease,
When Storms grow loud on every side,
And far from Shore his Vessel seize,
Whilst all the Lights of Heav'n are hid.
For Ease the Warlike Thracian fights,
That never can be bought or sold;
For this the Mede in Arms delights,
Preferring Ease to heaps of Gold.
Nor Wealth nor Honours can allay
The inward Troubles of the Great;
Nor chace those Swarms of Cares away,
That still attend on Pomp and State.
He, who is happily possess'd
Of what the Golden Mean requires,
Never resigns his balmy Rest
To slavish Fears or vain Desires.
'Tis foolish to enlarge our Views,
Since Life is short and quickly done;
In vain we would new Climates chuse,
But never from our selves can run.
Nor Martial Troops, nor Ships of War,
Can ever leave black Care behind,
That still pursues them in the Rear,
Outstrips the Stag, outflies the Wind.
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'Gainst future Ills there's no Relief;
The present Good is always best:
Be wise, and mingle Joy with Grief,
Since nothing is compleatly blest.
Achilles was untimely slain;
Tithonus felt a slow Decay;
The Gods in various Lots to Man
Their Favours and their Frowns convey.
You num'rous Flocks and Herds possess,
The fruitful Cow and neighing Mare;
You in your Chariot loll at ease;
You the best richest Scarlet wear.
I with my Little am content,
And of my Lyrick Genius proud;
Since the good Gods their Vot'ry lent
A Soul, that can despise the Crowd.
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