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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
Smart, Christopher (1722-1771)

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VOLUME I.
  
[dedication]
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THE FIRST BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.
 I. 
ODE I. TO MÆCENAS.
 II. 
ODE II. TO AUGUSTUS CÆSAR.
 III. 
ODE III.
 IV. 
ODE IV. TO SEXTIUS, A PERSON OF CONSULAR DIGNITY .
 V. 
ODE V. TO PYRRHA.
 VI. 
ODE VI. TO AGRIPPA.
 VII. 
ODE VII. TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS, A PERSON OF CONSULAR DIGNITY
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. TO LYDIA.
 IX. 
ODE IX. TO THALIARCHUS.
 X. 
ODE X. TO MERCURY.
 XI. 
ODE XI. TO LEUCONOE.
 XII. 
ODE XII. TO AUGUSTUS.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. TO LYDIA.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. TO THE REPUBLIC OF ROME, ON THE RENEWAL OF THE CIVIL WAR.
 XV. 
ODE XV. THE PREDICTIONS OF NEREUS CONCERNING THE DESTRUCTION OF TROY.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. TO HIS MISTRESS.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. TO TYNDARIS.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII. TO QUINTILIUS VARUS.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX. OF GLYCERA.
 XX. 
ODE XX. TO MÆCENAS.
 XXI. 
ODE XXI. TO APOLLO AND DIANA.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII. TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS.
 XXIII. 
ODE XXIII. TO CHLOE.
 XXIV. 
ODE XXIV. TO VIRGIL.
 XXV. 
ODE XXV. TO LYDIA.
 XXVI. 
ODE XXVI. TO THE MUSE, CONCERNING ÆLIUS LAMIA.
 XXVII. 
ODE XXVII. TO HIS BOTTLE-COMPANIONS.
 XXVIII. 
ODE XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
ODE XXIX. TO ICCIUS.
 XXX. 
ODE XXX. TO VENUS.
 XXXI. 
ODE XXXI. TO APOLLO.
 XXXII. 
ODE XXXII. TO HIS LYRE.
 XXXIII. 
ODE XXXIII. TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS.
 XXXIV. 
ODE XXXIV. TO HIMSELF.
 XXXV. 
ODE XXXV. TO FORTUNE.
 XXXVI. 
ODE XXXVI. TO POMPONIUS NUMIDA.
 XXXVII. 
ODE XXXVII. TO HIS COMPANIONS.
 XXXVIII. 
ODE XXXVIII. TO HIS SERVANT.
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THE SECOND BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.
 I. 
ODE I. TO C. ASINIUS POLLIO.
 II. 
ODE II. TO C. SALLUSTIUS CRISPUS.
 III. 
ODE III. TO DELLIUS.
 IV. 
ODE IV. TO XANTHIUS PHOCEUS.
 V. 
ODE V. ON LALAGE.
 VI. 
ODE VI. TO SEPTIMIUS.
 VII. 
ODE VII. TO POMPEIUS VARUS.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. TO JULIA BARINE.
 IX. 
ODE IX. TO VALGIUS.
 X. 
ODE X. TO LICINIUS.
 XI. 
ODE XI. TO QUINTIUS HIRPINUS.
 XII. 
ODE XII. TO MÆCENAS.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. UPON THE TREE BY WHOSE SUDDEN FALL HE HAD LIKE TO HAVE BEEN CRUSHED.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. TO POSTHUMUS.
 XV. 
ODE XV. UPON THE LUXURY OF THE AGE HE LIVED IN.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. TO MÆCENAS, WHEN SICK.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX. ON BACCHUS.
 XX. 
ODE XX. TO MÆCENAS.
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THE THIRD BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.
 I. 
ODE I.
 II. 
ODE II. TO HIS FRIRNDS.
 III. 
ODE III.
 IV. 
ODE IV.
 V. 
ODE V.
 VI. 
ODE VI. TO THE ROMANS, ON THE CORRUPT MANNERS OF HIS AGE.
 VII. 
ODE VII. TO ASTERIE.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. TO MÆCENAS.
 IX. 
ODE IX. TO LYDIA.
 X. 
ODE X. UPON LYCE.
 XI. 
ODE XI. TO MERCURY.
 XII. 
ODE XII. TO NEOBULE.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. TO THE FOUNTAIN BLANDUSIA.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. TO THE ROMAN PEOPLE.
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VOLUME II.
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THE THIRD BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE [Cont'd.].
 XV. 
ODE XV. ON CHLORIS.
 XVI. 
ODE XVI. TO MÆCENAS.
 XVII. 
ODE XVII. TO ÆLIUS LAMIA.
 XVIII. 
ODE XVIII. TO FAUNUS.
 XIX. 
ODE XIX. TO TELEPHUS.
 XX. 
ODE XX. TO PYRRHUS.
 XXI. 
ODE XXI. TO HIS WINE-JAR.
 XXII. 
ODE XXII. TO DIANA.
 XXIII. 
ODE XXIII TO PHIDILE.
 XXIV. 
ODE XXIV. UPON THE RICH AND COVETOUS.
 XXV. 
ODE XXV. TO BACCHUS.
 XXVI. 
ODE XXVI. TO VENUS.
 XXVII. 
ODE XXVII. TO GALATEA, ON POINT TO GO ABROAD.
 XXVIII. 
ODE XXVIII. TO LYDE.
 XXIX. 
ODE XXIX. TO MÆCENAS.
 XXX. 
ODE XXX. TO THE MUSE MELPOMENE.
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THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE ODES OF HORACE.
 I. 
ODE I. TO VENUS.
 II. 
ODE II. TO ANTONIUS JULUS, THE SON OF MARK ANTONY, OF THE TRIUMVIRATE.
 III. 
ODE III. TO MELPOMENE.
 IV. 
ODE IV. TO THE CITY OF ROME, CONCERNING THE GENIUS OF DRUSUS, AND HIS EDUCATION UNDER AUGUSTUS.
 V. 
ODE V. TO AUGUSTUS.
 VI. 
ODE VI. TO APOLLO AND DIANA.
 VII. 
ODE VII. TO L. MANLIUS TORQUATUS.
 VIII. 
ODE VIII. TO MARTIUS CENSORINUS.
 IX. 
ODE IX. TO LOLLIUS.
 X. 
ODE X. TO PHYLLIS.
 XI. 
ODE XI. TO VIRGIL.
 XII. 
ODE XII. UPON LYCE, AN ANTIQUATED COURTEZAN.
 XIII. 
ODE XIII. TO AUGUSTUS.
 XIV. 
ODE XIV. THE PRAISES OF AUGUSTUS.
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THE BOOK OF THE EPODES OF HORACE.
 I. 
EPODE I. TO MÆCENAS.
 II. 
EPODE II. THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE.
 III. 
EPODE III. TO MÆCENAS.
 IV. 
EPODE IV. TO VOLTEIUS MENA.
 V. 
EPODE V. UPON CANIDIA THE SORCERESS.
 VI. 
EPODE VI. AGAINST CASSIUS SEVERUS.
 VII. 
EPODE VII. TO THE ROMAN PEOPLE.
 VIII. 
EPODE VIII. TO MÆCENAS.
 IX. 
EPODE IX. AGAINST MÆVIUS THE POET.
 X. 
EPODE X. TO PETTIUS, A BON-COMPANION OF HIS.
 XI. 
EFODE XI. TO HIS HUMOUROUS FRIENDS, THAT THEY WOULD PASS THE WINTER MERRILY.
 XII. 
EPODE XII. TO MÆCENAS.
 XIII. 
EPODE XIII. TO HIS MISTRESS NEÆRA
 XIV. 
EPODE XIV. TO THE PEOPLE OF ROME.
 XV. 
EPODE XV. TO CANIDIA.
 XVI. 
EPODE XVI. CANIDIA'S ANSWER
  
THE SECULAR ODE
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[section]
  
ODE ON SAINT CECILIA'S DAY
collapse sectionIII. 
VOLUME III.
collapse section1. 
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE SATIRES OF HORACE.
 I. 
SATIRE I.
 II. 
SATIRE II.
 III. 
SATIRE III.
 IV. 
SATIRE IV.
 V. 
SATIRE V.
 VI. 
SATIRE VI. To Mæcenas.
 VII. 
SATIRE VII.
 VIII. 
SATIRE VIII.
 IX. 
SATIRE IX.
 X. 
SATIRE X.
collapse section2. 
THE SECOND BOOK OF THE SATIRES OF HORACE.
 I. 
SATIRE I.
 II. 
SATIRE II.
 III. 
SATIRE III.
 IV. 
SATIRE IV.
 V. 
SATIRE V.
 VI. 
SATIRE VI.
 VII. 
SATIRE VII.
 VIII. 
SATIRE VIII.
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VOLUME IV.
collapse section1. 
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE EPISTLES OF HORACE.
 I. 
EPISTLE I. To Mæcenas.
 II. 
EPISTLE II. To Lollius.
 III. 
EPISTLE III. To Julius Florus.
 IV. 
EPISTLE IV. To Albius Tibullus.
 V. 
EPISTLE V. To Torquatus.
 VI. 
EPISTLE VI. To Numicius.
 VII. 
EPISTLE VII. To Mæcenas.
 VIII. 
EPISTLE VIII. To Celsus Albinovanus.
 IX. 
EPISTLE IX. To Claudius Nero.
 X. 
EPISTLE X. To Fuscus Aristius.
 XI. 
EPISTLE XI. To Bullatius returned from Asia.
 XII. 
EPISTLE XII. To Iccius.
 XIII. 
EPISTLE XIII. To Vinnius Asella.
 XIV. 
EPISTLE XIV. To his Steward in the Country.
 XV. 
EPISTLE XV. To Vala.
 XVI. 
EPISTLE XVI. To Quintius.
 XVII. 
EPISTLE XVII. To Scæva.
 XVIII. 
EPISTLE XVIII. To Lollius.
 XIX. 
EPISTLE XIX. To Mæcenas.
 XX. 
EPISTLE XX. To his Book.
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THE SECOND BOOK OF THE EPISTLES OF HORACE.
 I. 
EPISTLE I. To Augustus.
 II. 
EPISTLE II. To Julius Florus.
  
HORACE HIS ART OF POETRY.

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167

EPODE V. UPON CANIDIA THE SORCERESS.

“But oh, ye pow'rs on high,
“Whichever from the sky,
“Rul'st human nature, land and sea;
“What can this horrid scene,
“These screams and aspects mean,
“All, all so sourly fix'd on me!
“Thee therefore I implore,
“If ever child you bore,
“Lucina present to your pray'r;
“By this vain purple vest,
“By Jove, who must detest,
“And cannot such proceedings spare!
“Why does your forehead low'r
“On me, with looks as sour
“As step-dames on their sons-in-law;
“Or like wild beasts, that feel
“The torment of the steel,
“Which from their sides they cannot draw?”
169

When thus, in trembling mood,
The boy had spoke,—he stood,
Of all his noble robes undrest;
A tender form and smooth
And sight enough to sooth
The fierceness of a Thracian breast.
Canidia, with her hair
Unkempt, as twisted there,
The little snakes infold her head;
Commands the bastard-fig,
That from the graves they dig,
And cypress sacred to the dead:
And eggs bedaub around,
From black toad's filthy wound,
And plumes from owl of nightly scream;
With drugs Iolchos sends,
And which Iberia vends,
Whose lands with plenteous poison teem:
And bone, that's snatch'd in spite
From bitch of greedy bite,
When hungry and about to dine;
For all these things, the dame
Prepares a Colchan flame,
The magic powder to combine.
But Sagana, with gown
Adjusted, up and down
Is sprinkling the avernal dew;
With hair that stands again,
Like urchins of the main,
Or running boar that hounds pursue.
171

Veia, without controul
Of conscience, digs a hole,
And groans at the severe employ
Of sharp laborious spade,
That, when the pit was made,
Therein confin'd the buried boy
Might famish at the look,
Of dainties that they cook,
And vary thrice a day the board;—
His body hid as far
In earth, as swimmers are
In streams, when to their chin they ford.
That his exhausted pith,
And liver dry therewith,
For a love-potion might suffice;
When settled on the food,
They baffle and elude,
The wasting pupils of his eyes.
That Folia too did come,
E'en from Ariminum,
With lust of masculine excess;
In towns both small and great,
As well as in the prate
Of idle Naples was the guess.
A witch, whose magic art,
Can make the stars to start,
At sounds Thessalian, from their spheres;
And lunar orb can force,
To quit her heav'nly course,
When her inchanting voice she hears.
173

Canidia then in dumps,
Biting, with her green stumps,
Her thumb, whose nail was never par'd;
What said she, or what not?
“O, conscious on the spot,
“Of all these deeds that we have dar'd.
“Dian and night serene,
“That rule the silent scene,
“What time our mystic blazes burn;—
“Now, now present your face,
“And on each hostile place,
“Your pow'r and your resentment turn.
“In gloomy glades of dread,
“While now wild beasts are sped,
“Indulging as they sweetly doze;
“Set all the dogs to bark,
“At yon old lech'rous spark,
“And to the gen'ral laugh expose.
“With nard, bedaub'd as rich
“As essences, the which
“These toiling hands of mine distill;—
“Hah! what does magic ail!
“Why do these charms avail!
“Less than the fell Medea's skill!
175

“With which empower'd to sate
“Her vengeance, wrath, and hate,
“Great Creon flying she defy'd;
“And with her poison'd cloak,
“Consum'd in fire and smoak,
“Creusa, Jason's other bride.
“Yet neither herb nor root,
“Of magical repute,
“Have scap'd me by their craggy site;—
“He sleeps in beds perfum'd,
“By harlots thither doom'd,
“Thoughtless of me to pass the night.
“Ah! ah! he walks at large,
“And has his free discharge,
“Fresh from a greater wheedler's arms;
“Varus, I will pursue,
“O wretch about to rue,
“Pursue thee with unheard of charms.
“Again, for me inclin'd,
“You shall return, nor find
“Your poor lost wits by Marsian spells;
“A greater, greater bane,
“Of philters will I strain,
“The more your nice disgust rebels.
177

“And sooner heav'n shall go,
“To place itself below
“The sea, with earth upon the stars;
“Then you shall not desire,
“My love with such a fire,
“As burns this pitch within the bars.”
At this the boy no more
Intreated, as before,
The impious hags with gentle tone;—
But doubtful, where to make
His preface, thus he spake
The curse Thyestes well might own.
“Your poys'nous drugs are strong,
“Confounding right and wrong,
“Yet nature cannot be destroy'd;
“Such curses I will urge,
“No sacrifice can purge,
“And no atonement render void.
“And when I shall expire,
“So destin'd by your ire,
“I'll be a fury in the dark;
“And with my crooked claws,
“I'll come to maim your jaws,
“(Such pow'r have ghosts) with many a mark.
“And lying on your breast,
“I will deprive of rest
179

“Your eyes, by filling them with fear;
“And crowds, from town to town,
“Shall join to knock you down,
“Obscene old witches, far and near.
“Your bodies after all,
“Depriv'd of funeral,
“Wolves and Esquilian birds shall share;
“Your horrors and your cries,
“My parents ears and eyes,
“Shall glut, surviving me their heir.”
 

The prælexta, which young noblemen wore, was ornamented with purple; for the lad here introduced is supposed to be of rank, in order to aggravate Canidia's barbarity.

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