The Works of Horace In English Verse By several hands. Collected and Published By Mr. Duncombe. With Notes Historical and Critical |
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XII. | ODE XII. To Virgil.
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The Works of Horace In English Verse | ||
479
ODE XII. To Virgil.
The Spring's Companions, Thracian Gales,
Now fan the Sea and swell the Sails.
The Meads no more with Frost are seen
Deform'd, but shine in native Green.
No longer in loud Torrents flow
The Streams, increas'd with wintry Snow.
Her Nest the busy Swallow rears,
And in harsh Notes her Woes declares.
The Swain now tunes his rural Reed,
Grateful to Pan; (while round him feed
His fleecy Charge;) the Flocks who loves,
And haunts Arcadia's shady Groves.
Virgil! (whom Cæsar's princely Race
With Patronage and Friendship grace,)
The warmer Season Thirst excites,
And gaily to soft Joys invites;
But if the rich reviving Juice,
Which the Calenian Grapes produce,
You here expect with Me to share,
You must the fragrant Oyl prepare;
Of Spikenard a small Box procures
A Jar of Wine from Galba's Stores,
Powerful to chear the gloomy Soul,
Raise languid Hope, and Care controul.
If then you chuse, this genial Night
To give with Horace to Delight;
Haste with your Quota to my Feast;
I ask no empty-handed Guest:
To treat you at my proper Cost,
Requires more Wealth than I can boast.
Now fan the Sea and swell the Sails.
The Meads no more with Frost are seen
Deform'd, but shine in native Green.
No longer in loud Torrents flow
The Streams, increas'd with wintry Snow.
Her Nest the busy Swallow rears,
And in harsh Notes her Woes declares.
The Swain now tunes his rural Reed,
Grateful to Pan; (while round him feed
His fleecy Charge;) the Flocks who loves,
And haunts Arcadia's shady Groves.
Virgil! (whom Cæsar's princely Race
With Patronage and Friendship grace,)
The warmer Season Thirst excites,
And gaily to soft Joys invites;
But if the rich reviving Juice,
Which the Calenian Grapes produce,
480
You must the fragrant Oyl prepare;
Of Spikenard a small Box procures
A Jar of Wine from Galba's Stores,
Powerful to chear the gloomy Soul,
Raise languid Hope, and Care controul.
If then you chuse, this genial Night
To give with Horace to Delight;
Haste with your Quota to my Feast;
I ask no empty-handed Guest:
To treat you at my proper Cost,
Requires more Wealth than I can boast.
A while the anxious Search of Gain,
Indulgent to yourself, restrain.
Mindful of Death, without Delay,
Then seize the present passing Day:
Severer Cares with Mirth relieve,
And a few Hours to Folly give.
'Tis sweet to trifle with a Friend
In Season, and our Thoughts unbend.
Indulgent to yourself, restrain.
Mindful of Death, without Delay,
Then seize the present passing Day:
Severer Cares with Mirth relieve,
And a few Hours to Folly give.
'Tis sweet to trifle with a Friend
In Season, and our Thoughts unbend.
The Works of Horace In English Verse | ||