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155

PART OF THE NINTH ODE OF THE FOURTH BOOK OF HORACE.

159

[_]
Ne forte credas interitura, quæ
Longe sonantem natus ad Aufidum
Non ante vulgatas per artes
Verba loquor socianda chordis;
Lest you should think that Verse shall die,
Which sounds the Silver Thames along,
Taught on the Wings of Truth, to fly
Above the reach of vulgar Song;
[_]
Non, si priores Maeonius tenet
Sedes Homerus, Pindaricae latent
Ceaeque, et Alcaei minaces
Stesichorique graves Camenae:
Tho' daring Milton sits Sublime,
In Spencer native Muses play;
Nor yet shall Waller yield to time,
Nor pensive Cowley's moral Lay.
[_]
Nec, si quid olim lusit Anacreon,
Delevit aetas: spirat adhuc amor,
Vivuntque commissi calores
Aeoliae fidibus puellae.
Sages and Chiefs long since had birth
E're Cæsar was, or Newton nam'd,
These rais'd new Empires o'er the Earth,
And Those new Heav'ns and Systems fram'd;
[_]
Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona
Multi; sed omnes illacrymabiles
Urguentur ignotique longa
Nocte, carent quia vate sacro.
Vain was the chief's and sage's pride
They had no Poet and they dyd!
In vain they schem'd, in vain they bled
They had no Poet and are dead!
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