The odes, epodes and Carmen Seculare of Horace (1719)

Descend, Celestial Muse, inspire
Thy own Apollo's vocal Lyre;
Or on the Pipe, or with thy Voice prolong
Thy ever pleasing Lays, and never dying Song.

Attend my Raptures, and be still;
'Tis not a frantick Rage I feel;
But in Elysian Shades and Groves I stray,
Where limpid Waters flow, and gentle Breezes play.

Upon a Mountain tall and steep,
When tir'd, I lay'd me down to Sleep,
Beyond Apulia's Bounds; and round my Head
Th' officious Doves a verdant Cov'ring spread.

'Twas wond'rous thought by all the Swains,
By him who tills Ferentum's Plains,
Or in the Bantine Woods and Forests lives,
Or on the sunny Top of Acherontia's Cliffs;

That neither Snakes nor Beasts of Prey
Should bite or wound me, where I lay;
A bold couragious Youth! with Myrtle crown'd;
Whom the good Gods inspire, with Guardian Care surround.

Still I am Yours, ye sacred Nine!
Whether the Sabine Hills confine,
Or cold Præneste's Seat your Bard detains,
Or Baia's gentle Streams, or Tibur's fruitful Plains.

The Muses did their Poet shield,
At fam'd Philippi's bloody Field;
And from the falling Tree and stormy Main,
To grace their sacred Spring, preserv'd their grateful Swain.

When you are kind, when you are near,
I think no Ill, nor Danger fear;
Supported by your Aid, secure I stand
Amidst the roaring Winds, or on the burning Sand.

Guided by you, I safely pass
Gelonia's Bounds, and warlike Thrace,
The Scythian Streams by endless Frosts confin'd,
Or Britain's distant Shores, to Foreigners unkind.

When Cæsar and his Troops retire
And quit the Field, the vocal Quire
Lead to their Bow'r the Victor cloy'd with Wars;
With Songs refresh his Mind, and sooth his rising Cares.

You smile to see Mankind grow wise,
And just and good, by your Advice;
From you we learn, you in sweet Numbers tell,
How Titan's monstrous Race by forked Lightning fell.

By him they fell, whose awful Hand
The Liquid Main, and solid Land,
Cities and Empires, Hell and Darkness sways;
Whom every God above, and Man below, obeys

They on their num'rous Arms rely'd,
And dar'd the Gods with impious Pride;
Mountains on Mountains, Rocks on Rocks they pil'd,
And each Immortal Breast with Dread and Terror fill'd.

But Mimas falls, Typhœus flies;
Porphyrion of enormous Size,
And Rhæcus, and Enceladus were slain,
Who whirl'd the Rocks on high, and naked left the Plain.

Soon as they saw the blazing Shield
Of Pallas shine, they left the Field;
When Vulcan rag'd, and Juno met the Foe,
And Phœbus aim'd his Darts, and strung his sounding Bow:

He, us'd to gentler Arts than War,
Wantons and baths his flowing Hair
In fair Castalia's Stream, or lightly roves
Through Lycia's Sylvan Brakes, or his own Delian Groves.

The Gods are ever good and kind
To Courage, when with Conduct join'd;
But Brutal Force in a bad Cause they hate;
And soon it sinks beneath its own unwieldy Weight.

This Truth let monstrous Gyges own,
By the victorious Gods o'erthrown;
And He, who stung with lustful Fury try'd
Diana's Virgin Charms, and by her Arrows dy'd.

The Earth bewails her impious Race,
Transfix'd with Light'ning's pointed Rays,
Hurry'd to Pluto's gloomy Cells below,
Whilst Ætna's dark Abodes with endless Sulphur glow.

On Tityus' Liver Night and Day
The Vulture feeds, and guards her Prey;
With him the fam'd Perithöus complains
Of Tortures worse than Love, and more enduring Chains.

University of Virginia Library

ODE IV. To Calliope.