 | Poems and Translations |  |
151
The Third Ode of the 2d Book of Horace paraphras'd.
I
Let the brave Youth be train'd, the StingsOf Poverty to bear,
And in the School of Want be taught
The Exercise of War.
II
Let Him be practis'd in his Bloom,To listen to Alarms,
And learn proud Parthia to subdue
With unresisted Arms.
152
III
The hostile Tyrant's beauteous BrideDistracted with Despair,
Beholds him pouring to the Fight,
And thund'ring thro' the War.
IV
As from the Battlements she viewsThe Slaughter of his Sword,
Thus shall the Fair express her Grief,
And Terrors for her Lord:
V
Look down ye gracious Pow'rs from Heav'n,Nor let my Consort go,
Rude in the Arts of War, to fight
This formidable Foe.
153
VI
Oh! not with half that dreadful RageThe Royal Savage flies,
When at the slightest Touch, he springs
And darts upon his Prize.
VII
How fair, how comely are our Wounds,In our dear Country's Cause?
What Fame attends the glorious Fate,
That props our dying Laws?
VIII
For Death's cold Hand arrests the FearsThat haunt the Coward's Mind;
Swift she pursues the flying Wretch,
And wounds him from behind.
154
IX
Bravely regardless of Disgrace,Bold Virtue stands alone,
With pure unsully'd Glory shines,
And Honours still her own.
X
From the dark Grave, and silent Dust,She bids her Sons arise,
And to the Radiant Train unfolds
The Portals of the Skies.
XI
Now with triumphant Wings, she soars,Above the Realms of Day,
Spurns the dull Earth, and groveling Crowd,
And tow'rs th'ethereal Way.
155
XII
With Her has Silence a Reward,Within the bless'd Abodes,
That holy Silence which conceals
The Secrets of the Gods.
XIII
But with a Wretch, I would not live,By Sacrilege prophan'd,
Nor lodge beneath one Roof, nor launch
One Vessel from the Land.
XIV
For blended with the Bad, the GoodThe common Stroke have felt,
And Heav'n's dire Vengeance struck alike
At Innocence and Guilt.
156
XV
The Wrath Divine pursues the Wretch,At present lame, and slow,
But yet tho' tardy to advance,
She gives the surer Blow.
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