The works of Horace, translated into verse With a prose interpretation, for the help of students. And occasional notes. By Christopher Smart ... In four volumes |
 | I. |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. | ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| 3. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
 | The works of Horace, translated into verse |  |
199
ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS.
All men covet peace of mind, which cannot be acquired either by riches or honours, but only by restraining the appetites.
The seaman sues the gods for ease,
Soon as the moon the tempest veils,
Nor sparkling guide he sees.
Ease by fierce Thracians in the end;
Ease by the quiver'd Mede is sought;
By gems, nor purple bales, my friend,
Nor bullion to be bought.
Not wealth or state, a consul's share,
Can give the troubled mind its rest,
Or fray the winged fiends of care,
That pompous roofs infest.
Well lives he, on whose little board
Th'old silver salt-cellar appears,
Left by his sires—no sordid hoard
Disturb his sleep with fears.
201
And aim at sublunary pelf,
Seek foreign realms? Can he, who flies
His country, 'scape himself?
Ill-natur'd care will board the fleet,
Nor leave the squadron'd troops behind,
Swifter than harts, or irksome sleet
Driv'n by the eastern wind.
If good, the present hour be mirth;
If bitter, let your smiles be sweet,
Look not too forward—nought on earth
Is in all points complete.
A sudden death Achilles seiz'd,
A tedious age Tithonus wore—
If you're amerc'd, fate may be pleas'd
To give to me the more.
A hundred flocks around thee stray,
About thee low Sicilian kine,
And mares apt for thy carriage neigh,
And purple robes are thine.
203
A faithful prophetess foretold,
And groundlings, spirited from Greece,
In high contempt I hold.
| The works of Horace, translated into verse | |