ODE XI. To Quintius Hirpinus.
1.
What the fierce Scythians and Cantabrians dare,
Make thou no Object of thy Care:
While Adria far from us divides
Their Arms by interposing Tides.
2.
No anxious Thought for Life thy Heart should touch;
Life lasts not long, nor asks for much.
Behold our Years! how fast they fly;
Youth vanishes, and Beauty fades;
Age drops her Snow upon our Heads,
And drives sweet Slumbers from our Eye!
1.
Not always vernal Flowers their Pride retain,
And full-orb'd Moons are sure to wane:
Why tire we then the narrow Mind,
For Cares eternal too confin'd?
2.
Rather beneath yon Plantane's spreading Shade,
Or this fair Pine, all careless laid,
Let us, carousing while we may,
Our silver'd Locks with Odors spread;
With Wreaths of Roses crown our Head,
And drink each gloomy Thought away.
1.
Th'enlivening God will sordid Care refine:
But, Boy! this hot Falernian Wine
Requires Allay; then quickly bring
Some Water from yon gurgling Spring.
2.
Who will fair Lydé from her House allure,
No vulgar Prostitute impure?
Bid the dear Girl make haste away;
And (like a Spartan Maid) with Hair
Tied in a Knot behind, prepare
Her Ivory Harp, with us to sing and play.
