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A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace

With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition
  

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Ode III.
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219

Ode III.

[The Man, in conscious Virtue bold]

The Man, in conscious Virtue bold,
Who dares his secret Purpose hold,
Unshaken hears the Croud's tumultuous Cries,
And the impetuous Tyrant's angry Brow defies.
Let the loud Winds, that rule the Seas,
Their wild tempestuous Horrours raise;
Let Jove's dread Arm with Thunders rend the Spheres,
Beneath the Crush of Worlds undaunted he appears.
Thus to the flamy Towers above,
The vagrant Hero, Son of Jove,
Upsoar'd with Strength his own, where Cæsar lies,
And quaffs, with glowing Lips, the Bowl's immortal Joys.

221

Fierce and indocile to the Yoke,
His Tygers thus Lyæus broke;
Thus from the gloomy Regions of the Dead
On his paternal Steeds Rome's mighty Founder fled;
When Heaven's great Queen, with Words benign
Address'd th'assembled Powers divine—
Troy, hated Troy, an Umpire lewd, unjust,
And a proud foreign Dame, have sunk thee to the Dust,
To me, and Wisdom's Queen decreed,
With all thy guilty Race to bleed,
What Time thy haughty Monarch's perjur'd Sire
Mock'd the defrauded Gods, and robb'd them of their Hire.
The gaudy Guest, of impious Fame,
No more enjoys th'adulterous Dame,
Hector no more his faithless Brothers leads
To break the Grecian Force; no more the Victor bleeds,

223

Since the long War now sinks to Peace,
And all our heavenly Factions cease;
Instant to Mars my Vengeance I resign,
And here receive his Son, though born of Trojan Line.
Here, with encircling Glories bright,
Free let him tread the Paths of Light,
And rank'd among the tranquil Powers divine,
Drink deep the nectar'd Bowl, and quaff celestial Wine.
While loud a Length of Ocean roars
From Rome to Troy's detested Shores,
Unenvied let th'illustrious Exiles reign,
Where Fate directs their Course, and spreads their wide Domain.
On Priam's and th'Adulterer's Urn,
While Herds the Dust insulting spurn,
Let the proud Capitol in Glory stand,
And Rome, to triumph'd Medes, give forth her stern Command.
Let the victorious Voice of Fame
Wide spread the Terrours of her Name,
Where Seas the Continents of Earth divide,
And Nilus bathes the Plain with his prolific Tide.

125

Let her the golden Mine despise;
For deep in Earth it better lies,
Than when by Hands profane from Nature's Store,
To human Use compell'd, flames forth the sacred Ore.
Let her triumphant Arms extend
Where Nature's utmost Limits end;
Or where the Sun pours down his madding Beams,
Or where the Clouds are dark, and Rain perpetual streams.
Thus let the warlike Romans reign,
So Juno and the Fates ordain,
But on these Terms alone, no more to dare
Through Piety or Pride their parent Troy repair;
For Troy rebuilt, ill-omen'd State!
Shall feel the same avenging Fate;
Again my Grecians shall victorious prove,
By me led on to War, the Sister-Wife of Jove.
Thrice should Apollo raise her Wall,
Thrice should her brazen Bulwarks fall,
Thrice should her Matrons feel the Victor's Chain,
Deplore their slaughter'd Sons, deplore their Husbands slain.

227

But whither would the Muse aspire?
Such Themes nor suit the sportive Lyre,
Nor should the Wanton, thus in feeble Strain,
The Councils of the Gods, immortal Themes, profane.