University of Virginia Library


110

The 22d ODE of the First Book of Horace Translated.

The Man whose Reason is unstain'd,
Whose Heart is upright and unblam'd;
May travel over burning Sands,
Or uninhabitable Lands.
If over Caucasus he goes,
Or where the fam'd Hydaspes flows,
He need not guard his Innocence,
With Bows and Darts, the Moor's Defence;
Nor loaden Quiver by his Side,
With poison'd Arrows be supply'd.
For as my Lalagen I sung,
I heedless chanc'd to wander on,
Beyond my Bounds, and while I stray'd
The Sabine Woods, of nought afraid,

111

A Wolf my careless Steps alarm'd,
But fled me, tho' I was unarm'd.
Whatever horrid Monster roves,
Within Apulia's Oaken Groves,
Or o'er Numidia's parched Plains,
Where brinded Lyons shake their Manes;
The Just may travel dauntless there,
For Innocence has nought to fear.
Lay me beneath the polar Skies,
In frosty Fields, and Scenes of Ice,
Where bleaky Arbors stand in Snow,
Nor feel the Summer Zephyr blow.
Or lay me, where the burning Sun
Flames fiercely thro' the torrid Zone,
Whose scorching Beams deny a Place
For Habitant, beneath his Rays.
Still pleas'd, I'll smile, and talk, and sing,
And love my charming Lalagen.