Certain Selected Odes Of Horace, Englished and their Arguments annexed. With Poems (Antient and Modern) of diuers Subjects, Translated. Whereunto are added, both in Latin and English, sundry new Epigrammes. Anagrammes. Epitaphes [by John Ashmore] |
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| OF A BLESSED LIFE. |
 | Certain Selected Odes Of Horace, Englished |  |
89
OF A BLESSED LIFE.
TO THE RIGHT WORSIPFULL, Sr. Richard Hvtton, Knight, one of his Maiesties Iustices in the Court of Common Pleas.
If my Hopes harvest, Worthy Sir, had not
Been blasted with the Breath of dull Despaire,
My Muse (ne'r branded with the hatefull blot
Of cheap Ingratitude, freed from base Care)
The Tribute of her Love (for Causes iust)
Would not so long have smothered in the Dust.
Been blasted with the Breath of dull Despaire,
My Muse (ne'r branded with the hatefull blot
Of cheap Ingratitude, freed from base Care)
The Tribute of her Love (for Causes iust)
Would not so long have smothered in the Dust.
Yet lookes Shee for one Sun-shine Day: Mean while,
Accept these Gleanings, gathered in the Fields
Of good Free-holders, in the blessed Ile,
Where each one shewes (as his Affection yeelds)
Who is most blest: which none can better tell,
Then the sweet Singer doth of Israel.
Accept these Gleanings, gathered in the Fields
Of good Free-holders, in the blessed Ile,
Where each one shewes (as his Affection yeelds)
Who is most blest: which none can better tell,
Then the sweet Singer doth of Israel.
Your Worships, in his best indeavors to command, Ioh: Ashmore.
91
Martialis, ad seipsum, vel potius ad Iulium Martialem. Lib. 10. Epigr. 47.
O merrie, Martial, I mistake,A happy Life if these not make;
Riches bequeath'd, not got by toyle,
A fire ne'r out, no barren Soyle,
No Strife, seld' Office, a Minde found
Still calme, fit Strength, a Body sound,
Wise Smpleness, Friends equall bred,
No costly Fare, a Boord soon spred,
Nights never drunk, but from Cares free,
A gamesome Bed with Modestie,
Sleep making Darkness short to bee.
Be with thy State Content: so stay:
Wish not, nor feare, thy Fatall-Day.
Strigillius contra Martialem.
O trifling
Martial, tis most sure
That these things a blest Life procure:
Sense of our Sinne, an Heart relenting,
Griefe for our errors, Tears repenting,
And Faith, that saving Health embraceth.
For, he that on this sure Rock placeth
His ne'r-shak't Faith, that Christ alone
(True God) our Nature hath put-on,
And Vs (markt with Deaths blackest Letters,
Vnto eternall Chaines and Fetters)
Hath ransomd with his dearest Blood,
And 'twixt God's Wrath and Vs hath stood:
In Heaven he shall ('mong Heroës blest)
Crownd with unblasted Bayes still rest.
That these things a blest Life procure:
Sense of our Sinne, an Heart relenting,
Griefe for our errors, Tears repenting,
And Faith, that saving Health embraceth.
For, he that on this sure Rock placeth
92
(True God) our Nature hath put-on,
And Vs (markt with Deaths blackest Letters,
Vnto eternall Chaines and Fetters)
Hath ransomd with his dearest Blood,
And 'twixt God's Wrath and Vs hath stood:
In Heaven he shall ('mong Heroës blest)
Crownd with unblasted Bayes still rest.
Perhaps, thou'l say; These words are blunt;
Nor Romans so to speakar wont.
O trifling Martial, tis most sure,
That these things a blest Life procure.
Nor Romans so to speakar wont.
O trifling Martial, tis most sure,
That these things a blest Life procure.
Georg. Fabricius.
These things true Happiness doe teach,At which well-minded Christians reach:
God rightly and thy selfe to knowe,
And what thou dost thy Neighbour owe;
A temperate Tongue, chaste Speech, Heart pure,
A cheerfull Giver's Hand to th'Poore,
A Life with small, and 's owne Content,
Vnstaind Faith, and Love permanent,
A Minde with good Success not drunk,
Nor with disastrous chances shrunk,
But which good Hope keeps, and makes bolde
His Saviour Christ still to beholde.
Ad Martialem. Lib. 5. Epigr. 21.
If that with thee, dear Martial, I might
Securely spend my dayes as I desire:
If vacant time we might dispose aright,
And at the last to a true life retire;
Securely spend my dayes as I desire:
If vacant time we might dispose aright,
And at the last to a true life retire;
93
No Princes Courts, nor houses would we knowe
Of mighty men, nor irksome sutes would trie,
Nor unto greedy Lawyers would we goe,
Nor poare on a proud worm-gnawn Pedegree:
Of mighty men, nor irksome sutes would trie,
Nor unto greedy Lawyers would we goe,
Nor poare on a proud worm-gnawn Pedegree:
But, a well-pend, and lively acted Scene,
Small Brooks, Fields, Walks, fair Damsels, Bathes and Shades,
Should be the Labours we would entertaine,
Should be the Shops wherein we still would trade.
Small Brooks, Fields, Walks, fair Damsels, Bathes and Shades,
Should be the Labours we would entertaine,
Should be the Shops wherein we still would trade.
Now, neither of vs lives t'himselfe (Alas!)
But doth perceive with grief of minde, and see
How fair Suns rise, and how away they pass
Fruit-less to us, for which we blamed be.
Doth not a man, to live that knowes the way,
Cut-off encumbrances that thence him stay?
But doth perceive with grief of minde, and see
How fair Suns rise, and how away they pass
Fruit-less to us, for which we blamed be.
Doth not a man, to live that knowes the way,
Cut-off encumbrances that thence him stay?
Marcus Antonius Flaminius, ad Steph. Sauium: Sic incipiens.
Netubeatum dixeris &c.
Think not (good Saul) that hee is blest
Through Cities stately Gates that goes,
With swarms of crouching Suters prest,
And noble Peers that him inclose.
Through Cities stately Gates that goes,
With swarms of crouching Suters prest,
And noble Peers that him inclose.
No, nor if in high-rooft Barnes he
Fair Affricks fertile Harvests hold,
And Gems, and polisht Ivory
Possess, and ruddy heaps of Gold.
Fair Affricks fertile Harvests hold,
And Gems, and polisht Ivory
Possess, and ruddy heaps of Gold.
Nor he the secret Seales that opes
Of Causes; or by skill profound
Mounts to the Stars, or by Wit gropes
To finde the Treasures hid ith' Ground:
Of Causes; or by skill profound
Mounts to the Stars, or by Wit gropes
To finde the Treasures hid ith' Ground:
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But him thou Blessed well mayst call,
That rightly doth his God adore,
And from his Precepts doth not fall,
But them than Gold esteemeth more.
That rightly doth his God adore,
And from his Precepts doth not fall,
But them than Gold esteemeth more.
He's not puft-up with peoples Praise;
But, still God's Praise to him is dear:
Which to maintaine and more to raise,
Reproches he doth willing beare.
But, still God's Praise to him is dear:
Which to maintaine and more to raise,
Reproches he doth willing beare.
And often, from Earth's Cares set free,
His happy Soule to Heaven ascends;
Where it enioyes the Deïtie,
And parlies with celestiall Friends.
His happy Soule to Heaven ascends;
Where it enioyes the Deïtie,
And parlies with celestiall Friends.
And so, full fraught with heavenly Ioy,
Vnto an higher pitch he riseth
Than worldly Dangers can annoy,
And Mens mad purposes despiseth.
Vnto an higher pitch he riseth
Than worldly Dangers can annoy,
And Mens mad purposes despiseth.
The Shepheard so, from petill farre,
As he secure lies in his Cave,
Beholds the sturdy Windes at warre
With Seas, that proudly swell and rave.
As he secure lies in his Cave,
Beholds the sturdy Windes at warre
With Seas, that proudly swell and rave.
Lipsÿ laus, & vota Vitæ beatæ.
Hee's like the gods, and higher then
The rest-less Race of mortall Men,
That wisheth not, or (in despaire)
The doubtfull Day of Death doth feare.
In whom Ambition doth not raigne,
That is not vext with hope of Gaine,
That trembles not at Threats of Kings,
Nor Darts that angry Iove down flings:
But, firmely seated in one Place,
Vulgar Delights doth scorne, as base:
That of his Life one Tenor keeps;
Secure that wakes, secure that sleeps.
The rest-less Race of mortall Men,
That wisheth not, or (in despaire)
The doubtfull Day of Death doth feare.
In whom Ambition doth not raigne,
That is not vext with hope of Gaine,
That trembles not at Threats of Kings,
Nor Darts that angry Iove down flings:
95
Vulgar Delights doth scorne, as base:
That of his Life one Tenor keeps;
Secure that wakes, secure that sleeps.
If I might live at mine owne pleasure,
I would no Office seek, nor Treasure;
Nor captive Troups should me attend,
As to my Charret I ascend,
Drawne by white Steeds, with Shouts and Cries;
A Spectacle to gazing Eyes.
I would no Office seek, nor Treasure;
Nor captive Troups should me attend,
As to my Charret I ascend,
Drawne by white Steeds, with Shouts and Cries;
A Spectacle to gazing Eyes.
In Places I remote would be:
Gardens and Fields should solace me:
There, at the bubbling waters noyse,
I with the Muses would reioyce.
Gardens and Fields should solace me:
There, at the bubbling waters noyse,
I with the Muses would reioyce.
So, when my Lachesis hath spun
The thread of Life, she well drew on;
Not unto any man a Foe,
I full of Years from hence would goe,
And Date my dayes in quiet state,
As my good Langius did of late.
The thread of Life, she well drew on;
Not unto any man a Foe,
I full of Years from hence would goe,
And Date my dayes in quiet state,
As my good Langius did of late.
Psalmus Primus Davidis.
Beatus vir, &c.
Hee happy is, amongst the brain-sick Crue
Of ill-advising men, that doth not walk;
Nor the lewd Path of wicked men pursue,
Of holy things that dare profanely talke;
Nor in the Scorners chaire sits (swoln with Pride)
That God contemne, and Godliness deride.
Of ill-advising men, that doth not walk;
Nor the lewd Path of wicked men pursue,
Of holy things that dare profanely talke;
Nor in the Scorners chaire sits (swoln with Pride)
That God contemne, and Godliness deride.
But hee seeks-out farre-better Wayes to tread,
Led (in the winding Labyrinth of this Life)
By his Creator's Lawes, as a sure thread
That guides him through cross-wayes of worldly Strife.
By it, his Words and Actions he doth frame:
Earely and late he thinks upon the fame.
Led (in the winding Labyrinth of this Life)
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That guides him through cross-wayes of worldly Strife.
By it, his Words and Actions he doth frame:
Earely and late he thinks upon the fame.
Hee's like a thick-leav'd tree, that planted is
By the green Bank of som smooth-gliding Stream,
That with his fruitfull armes stretcht-forth doth bliss
The Labourers Paines: which Phœbus with his beam
Doth ne'r so search, nor Winters rage can stay,
But yearly Rent she to her Lord will pay.
By the green Bank of som smooth-gliding Stream,
That with his fruitfull armes stretcht-forth doth bliss
The Labourers Paines: which Phœbus with his beam
Doth ne'r so search, nor Winters rage can stay,
But yearly Rent she to her Lord will pay.
So shall not the ungodly and unkinde
Despisers of Gods Statutes and his Grace,
That (with themselves at war) no Rest can finde;
But, like the Chaf, are tost from place to place
With every sudden blast of Winde that bloweth,
Which scorns their lightness, and to Heaven it sheweth.
Despisers of Gods Statutes and his Grace,
That (with themselves at war) no Rest can finde;
But, like the Chaf, are tost from place to place
With every sudden blast of Winde that bloweth,
Which scorns their lightness, and to Heaven it sheweth.
For, when the iust Iudge comes in a bright Cloud,
Circled with Angels, cloath'd with Maiesty,
The wicked (daunted) will cry-out aloud,
Cashierd from Saints for their impiety.
For, as in good mens Wayes God takes Delight,
So he o'r-throwes all wicked By-wayes quite.
Circled with Angels, cloath'd with Maiesty,
The wicked (daunted) will cry-out aloud,
Cashierd from Saints for their impiety.
For, as in good mens Wayes God takes Delight,
So he o'r-throwes all wicked By-wayes quite.
FINIS.
| Certain Selected Odes Of Horace, Englished | |