if . L HORACE. TRANSLATED BY PHILIP FRANCIS, D.D. WITH AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING TRANSLATIONS OF VARIOUS ODES, &c. ^ BY BEN JONSON, COWLEY, MILTON, DRYDEN, POPE, ADDISON, SWIFT, BENTLEY, CIIATTERTON, G. WAKEFIELD, P 0 R S O N, BYRON, &c. AND BY SOME OF THE MOST EMINENT POETS OF THE PRESENT DAY. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. NEW-YORK: . PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, - NO. 82 CLIFF-STREET. 184 2 . BOSTON COLLEGE LIBIURr CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 4 The version of Dr. Francis is highly Horatian: it is morai without dulness, gay and spirited with propriety, and tendei without whining. Hence, few translations have gone througl. more editions, or met with greater applause from the public.— Monthly Review _ CONTENTS OP THE FIRST VOLUME. PAGE Biographical Sketch of Horace . . . . vii THE ODES. BOOK I. Ode I.—To Maecenas • • • 17 — II.—To Augustus • • • • 19 — III.—To the Ship in which Virgil sailed to Athens • 21 — IV.—To Sestius • • • 9 23 — V.—To Pyrrha .... • • • 24 — VI.—To Agrippa 9 • • 9 25 — VII.—To Munatius Plancus 9 9 • 9 26 — VIII.—'To Lydia 9 9 • 9 27 — IX.—To Thaliarchus 9 • • 9 29 — X.—Hymn to Mercury 9 • • 9 30 — XI.—To Leuconoe . 9 • • 9 32 — XII.—Hymn to Jove . 9 • • 9 32 — XIII.—To Lydia 9 • • • 35 — XIV.—To the Republic . 9 • 9 • 35 — XV.—The Prophecy of Nereus 9 • 9 • 36 — XVI.—To Tyndaris . 9 • 9 • 38 — XVII.—To Tyndaris 9 • 9 • 39 — XVIII.—'To Varus . • • 9 • 40 — XIX.—On Glycera . • • 9 • 42 — XX.—To Maecenas . 9 • 9 • 43 — XXII.—To Aristius Fuscus • • 9 • 44 — XXIII-.—To Chloe . • • 9 • 45 — XXIV.—'To Virgil . • • • • 46 — XXV.—ToLydra . • • 9 9 47 — XXVI.—To his Muse • • • 9 48 — XXVII.—To his Companions^ . • • • 9 48 I * iv ' CONTENTS. Ode XXVIII. — The Mariner and the Ghost of Archytas PAGE 50 — XXIX. — To Iccius . • 51 — XXX.—To Venus . • 52 — XXXI.—To Apollo . • 53 — XXXII.—To his Lyre • 54 — XXXIII.—To Albius Tibullus . « 55 — XXXIV. 56 — XXXV.—To Fortune • 57 — XXXVI. 59 — XXXVII.—To his Companions • 60 XXXVIII.—To bis Slave . BOOK II. • 63 Ode I.—To Asinius Pollio • 64 — 11.— To Crispus Sallustius • • • 66 — III. — To Dellius • • 68 — IV. — To Xanthias Phoceus • • • 69 — V. 71 — VI. — To Septimius . • • • 72 — VII. — To Pompeius Varus • • • 74 — VIII. — To Barme • • • 76 — IX. — To Valgius • • • 77 — X.—To Licinius Murena . • • • 78 — XI.—To Quintius Hirpinus • • • 79 — XII.—To Maecenas . • • • 81 — XIII. • • • 82 — XIV.—To Postumus . • • • 83 — XV. • • 85 — XVI.—To Pompeius Grosphus . • • • 86 — XVII.—To Maecenas • • • 88 — XVIII. 89 — XIX.—To Bacchus . • • • 91 XX.—To Maecenas . BOOK III. • • • 93 Ode I. . 95 — II.—To his Friends . • • • • 98 — Ill. 100 — IV.—To Calliope • • • • 104 — V.—The Praises of Augustus . • • • • 107 — VI.—To the Romans . . • • • 110 — VII.—To Asterie . . . • • • • 112 — VIII-—To Maecenas . . . • • • • 113 — IX.-To Lydia .... 114 — X.—To Lyce .... 115 CONTENTS V Ode XI.—To Mercury — XII.—To Neobule . • m • • PAGE 116 • 0 • • 118 — XIII.—To the Fountain Bandusia • 0 • • 119 — XIV.—To the Romans • 0 • • 120 — XV.—To Chloris • 0 • • 122 — XVI.—To Maecenas . • 0 • • 122 — XVII.—To JElius Lamia . • • • 0 125 — XVIII.—To Faunus . • • • 125 — XIX.—To Telephus . 0 • • • 126 — XX.—To Pyrrhus 0 • • • 127 — XXI.—To his Cask . • • • 0 128 — XXII.—To Diana • • • 129 — XXIII.—To Phidyle . • • • • 130 — XXIV.—Against Misers . • • • • 131 — XXV. — To Bacchus . • • • • 133 — XXVI — To Venus . • 134 — XXVII.—To Galatea • 134 — XXVIII.—To Lyde • • • 0 137 — XXIX. — To Maecenas • 138 — XXX. — To Melpomene • • • • 141 BOOK IV. Ode I. — To Venus .... 143 — II. — To Antonius lulus • 144 — III. — To Melpomene • 0 • 0 147 — IV. — The Praises ».f Drusus • 0 0 148 — V. — To Augustus 0 0 • 0 152 — VII. — To Torquatus . 0 • 0 155 — VIII. — To Censorinus 0 0 156 — IX. — To Lollius • 0 158 — X. — To Ligurinus • • 0 161 — XL—To Phyllis 1 0 162 — XII.—To Virgil • 0 163 — XIII. — To Lyce • 0 165 — XIV. — To Augustus • • 0 166 — XV. — To Augustus . • • 169 BOOK V. Ode I. — To Maecenas • • 0 172 — II. — The praises of a country life • • 0 174 — III. — To Maecenas • • • 176 _ IV A ' • • • • • • • • • 0 177 • • • • • • • • 0 178 — VI.—To Cassius Severus . 181 — VII.—To the Roman People . $ • • 182 A 2 VI CONTENTS. PAO* Ode V.—To Augustas. By the Rev. S. Sanderson . 183 — VII.—To Torquatus. By Dr. Samuel Johnson . 185 The Same. By J. Merivale, Esq.186 Ode IX.—To Lollius. By George Stepney . . . 187 — X.—To Ligurinus. By Archdeacon Wrangham . 189 The Same. By Alexander Cunningham . . . 189 Ode XII.—To Virgil. By Lord Thurlow . . . 190 — XIII.—To Lyce. By W. Cartwright . . . 191 BOOK V. Ode I. — To Majcenas. By K. Chetwood . . . 193 — II.—The Praises of a Country Life. By C. Cotton 194 — V. By the Rev. C. A. Wheelwright . . . 196 — XV.—To Neaera. By W. Somerville . . . 199 The Secular Poem. By William Duncombe . . . 201 Book III. Ode IX.—To Lydia. By H. Matthews . . 204 THE SATIRES. BOOK I. Satire III. By John Cam Hobhouse, Esq. . . . 205 - IX. By Henry Hall Joy, M.A.210 Alphabetical List of Authors, whose Translations are printed in the Appendix.215 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH i OF HORACE. This great poet was born atVenusia, a town on the frontiers of Lucania and Apulia, sixty-three years before the Christian era, during the consulate of L. Aurelius Cotta and L. Manlius Torquatus. His father was a freedman and a tax-gatherer, who nevertheless gave him a liberal education at Rome under Orbilius Pupillus, of Beneventum. By him he was instructed in Greek literature, and had perused the Iliad, as he himself informs us, before he went to complete his education at Athens, which had long been a fashionable literary resort for the Roman youth. During his abode in that city the assassination of Caesar and the consequent troubles occurred; and Brutus, on his march to Macedonia, among many other young Romans of similar pursuits, took with him Horace, who was then in his twenty-third year, and gave him the rank of military tribune. He freely confesses his cowardice at the battle of Philippi, where he left his shield, a circumstance which the ancients con- Vlll BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH sidered particularly ignominious. It is possible, however, that Horace has himself overcharged the picture, and has wished, by this stroke of apparent candour and simplicity, to persuade Augustus that his connection with the adverse party was less the result of political conviction than of the natural activity and restlessness of a youthful mind, ardent for adventure, and only brave while thoughtless of danger. Before the triumvirate undertook their expedition against Brutus and Cassius, they had agreed at Mutina, in order to retain their soldiers in alle¬ giance, to give them, in the event of success, eigh¬ teen principal towns of Italy, which had adhered to the opposite faction, among which were Venusium and Cremona. Thus, in the distribution which fol¬ lowed the consummation of the war, the paternal estate of Horace at the former place was confis¬ cated ; and Virgil, whose property was situated at Mantua, was placed in the same circumstances. Horace made no solicitations to Augustus. Thrown on his own resources, his habits and pur¬ suits allowed him no other subsistence than litera¬ ture. Poverty, whose chilling influence on the fire of poetry this great satirist has so pathetically lamented, was his bold and stimulating muse. What were the productions of her inspiration, or whether any are now extant, is not known ; but whatever were the merits of these compositions, his early talents procured for him the intimacy of Virgil and Varius, who recommended him to Me- caenas, the most celebrated patron of literature. Horace has left us a pleasing and natural account OF HORACE. IX of his introduction to that illustrious man. In few and broken words he candidly explained his simple history : he received a brief answer ; and in nine months after, that lordly monarch of wits called him to the number of his subjects. Though Mecaenas was slow in the formation of our poet’s acquaintance, he soon showed himself forward in its improvement; and very shortly after Horace had been thus noticed, he accompanied the minister on his journey to Brundusium, whither he was sent by Augustus to treat with Antony, who was then menacing Italy with a renewal of the civil wars. On this occasion Horace had an oppor¬ tunity of enjoying the society of his friends, Virgil, Varius, and Plotius. He appears at this time to have been what Suetonius tells us he was—a ques- tor’s secretary. By Mecaenas Horace was recommended to Au¬ gustus, with whom he lived on terms of the closest familiarity. How far he was qualified for the inti¬ macy of princes, he has not left us in doubt. That wonderful versatility, which in the genius of Hor¬ ace produced such diversified poetical excellence, seems to have extended to his inclinations. He appears to have enjoyed, with equal intensity, the tranquillity of literary rural seclusion, and the tumultuous pageantry of the court and city ; while, from the precepts which he affords for the conduct of every part of life, and his known friendship with Augustus, we may conclude that in all his transactions with that prince he was neither impor¬ tunate nor servile ; that, while loaded with honours, he made no degrading compromise—no unseason- I X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH able solicitation ; but either complied with freedom, or dissented with modesty and respect. For five years after the return of Augustus, Horace continued to enjoy an uninterrupted repose with the most perfect independence, although oc¬ casionally mingling among the great and powerful, who sought his society even to obsequiousness. He lived at the table of his illustrious patrons as if he were in his own house ; and Augustus, while sitting at his meals, with Virgil at his right hand and Horace at his left, often ridiculed the short breath of the former and the watery eyes of the latter, by observing that he sat between sighs and tears. At the end of this period our author’s felicity was interrupted by the death of his friend Virgil, which was shortly after succeeded by that of Tibul¬ lus. The latter poet had been associated with Horace, if not by the bonds of intimate friendship, yet by the sympathies of liberal pursuits. To his candour and discrimination Horace submitted his ethical writings, and from Horace he received counsel and consolation in the sufferings of disap¬ pointed love. Horace was now approaching his fiftieth year, and the loss of two friends with whom he had been so long associated, threw back on his heart a tide of generous affection, which soon flowed towards his early and benevolent patrons, Augustus and Mecrenas. The former, at once to prove his friendship for the poet and his admiration of his genius, selected him to compose the hymn to be sung in honour of Apollo and Diana at the Secular Games. This poem is, in all respects, extremely t OF HORACE. xi valuable ; for not only is it a composition of high intrinsic excellence, but is the only considerable extant specimen of the lyric part of the Roman worship. So pleased was Augustus with it, that he commanded Horace to celebrate in an ode the victory which Drusus and Tiberius obtained over the Rhaeti and Vindelici; which poem, together with the book of which it forms a part, was pub¬ lished in the same year by the emperor’s order. Nor was Augustus desirous alone of having his public successes emblazoned in the verses of Horace. He read the poet’s epistles and satires, and felt chagrined and discontented because none of them were addressed to himself. “ I am angry with you,” he writes to Horace, “ because you do not especially choose me to converse with in the principal part of your writings of this nature. Do you fear lest the appearance of my intimacy should injure you with posterity ?” To this flattering re¬ proof Horace replied by the first epistle of the second book, in which he extricates himself from the charge of neglect with a consummate skill and address peculiarly his own. The fortitude of Horace was put to a severe trial by the death of his early friend and best patron, Mecaenas; nor does it appear that it enabled him to recover the calamity, as he died within three weeks after, in the 57th year of his age, A.C. 9, during the consulate of C. Marcius Censorinus and C. Asinius Gallus. Horace had on one occasion declared the impossibility of long surviving his t friend—that one day must bring with it the fall of both; and the prediction was very nearly fulfilled. Xll BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Never, perhaps, was death encountered with more genuine philosophy than by Horace. He employed his latter days exclusively in the investigation of moral good and the nature of happiness, which he conducted on the principles of right reason, with¬ out reference to the subtleties and mechanism of any of the philosophical systems then in vogue. He left all his possessions to Augustus. The works of Horace have been always num¬ bered among the most valuable remains of antiquity. If we may rely on the judgment of his commenta¬ tors, he has united in his lyric poetry the enthusi¬ asm of Pindar, the majesty of Alcaeus, the tender¬ ness of Sappho, and the charming levities of Anac¬ reon. Yet he has beauties of his own genius and manner, that form his peculiar character. Many of his odes are varied with irony and satire, with delicacy and humour, with ease and pleasantry. Some of them were written in the first heat of imagination, when circumstances of time, places, and persons, were strong on him ; in others, he rises in full poetical dignity; sublime in sentiments, bold in allusions, and profuse of figures ; frugal of words, curious in his choice, and happily venturous in his use of them; pure in his diction, animated in his expressions, and harmonious in his numbers ; artful in the plan of his poems, regular in their conduct, and happy in their execution. The sat¬ ires and epistles of this writer, without the slight¬ est appearance of dictation or assumed authority, contain more real good sense, sound morality, and true philosophy, than perhaps any single work of heathen antiquity * and their frequent perusal has OF HORACE. Xlll a tendency to make the reader satisfied with him¬ self and others, and to produce on his part a con¬ duct at once conciliatory towards the world, and consistent with his own independence and integ¬ rity. He has this advantage over the rigid Juvenal —that we receive him into our bosOms, while he reasons with good-humour, and corrects in the lan¬ guage of friendship. Nor will his satires be less useful to the present age than to that in which they were written; since he does not draw his charac¬ ters from particular persons, but from human nature itself, which is invariably the same in all ages and countries. Horace has left us in his writings complete ma¬ terials for his own biography ; and his life was so entirely passed with Augustus, Mecsenas, and the poets his contemporaries, that its history is in itself the best commentary on the literary transactions of that brilliant period. He is, perhaps, the best historian also of his country’s poetry: his sketches, it is true, are concise and incidental; but the out¬ line is unbroken, and we have good reason to be¬ lieve that it is correct. Horace was buried next to the tomb of Mecsenas, at the extremity of the Esquiline hill. Vol. I.—B ) * ’ ,-lj : < V • ■ . v ‘ i ./ 1 \ * ; , * , v V < . * . / • ' ■ ' ' ‘ ■ 1 B ' 1 ** THE ODES. BOOK I. ODE I.—TO MAECENAS.* All men have different attachments; Horace’s taste inclines to lyric poetry, for the success of which he depends on the patronage of Maecenas. Maecenas, whose high lineage springs From fair Etruria’s ancient kings; O thou, my patron and my friend, On whom my life, my fame depend; In clouds th’ Olympic dust to roll, 5 To turn with kindling wheels the goal, And gain the palm, victorious prize ! Exalt a mortal to the skies. This man, by faction and debate Raised to the first employs of state: 10 * The word ode was not introduced into the Latin tongue until the third or fourth century, and was then first used to sig¬ nify any pieces of lyric poetry.— Sanadon. 1 Caius Cilnius Maecenas is distinguished in the Roman his¬ tory by being so many years the favourite of Augustus ; yet he is more famous by the protection and encouragement which he gave to men of genius and letters. To him the present world is in a great measure indebted for all the wit and learning of the Augustan age ; and even at this day the name of Maecenas is a title not unworthy of persons of the noblest character, who know, like him, how to animate, by their favour and generosity, the spirit of emulation among writers.— San. 9 The poet here describes the various conditions of life, but without any intention of comparing them, or determining which is really most eligible. It is sufficient, to the design of the ode, to prove that men have very different sentiments concerning B 2 18 HORACE. Another, who from Libya’s plain Sweeps to his barn the various grain: A third, who with unwearied toil Ploughs cheerful his paternal soil; While in their several wishes bless’d, 15 Not all the wealth by kings possess’d Shall tempt, with fearful souls, to brave The terrors of the foamy wave. When loud the winds and waters wage Wild war with elemental rage, 20 The merchant praises the retreat, The quiet of his rural seat; Yet, want untutor’d to sustain, Soon rigs his shatter’d bark again. No mean delights possess his soul, 25 With good old wine who crowns his bowl; Whose early revels are begun Ere half the course of day be run, Now, by some sacred fountain laid, Now, stretch’d beneath some bowering shade. The tented camps a soldier charm, 31 Trumpets and fifes his bosom warm; Their mingled sounds with joy he hears, Those sounds of war which mothers fear. The sportsman, chill’d by midnight Jove, 35 Forgets his tender, wedded love, Whether his faithful hounds pursue, And hold the bounding hind in view ; Whether the boar his hunter foils, And foaming breaks the spreading toils. 40 An ivy wreath, fair learning’s prize, Raises Maecenas to the skies. The breezy grove, the mazy round, Where the light nymphs and satyrs bound, happiness; but when once their choice is fixed, it were in vain to propose to them a change of the prevailing passion, or the use of other means for the gratification of it, than what they have already embraced.— Glareanus. Dacier. BOOK I.-ODE IT. 19 If there the sacred nine inspire 45 The breathing flute, and strike the lyre, There let me fix my last retreat, Far from the little vulgar and the great. But if you rank me with the choir, Who tuned with art the Grecian lyre, 50 Swift to the noblest heights of fame Shall rise thy poet’s deathless-name. ODE II.—TO AUGUSTUS. Horace dissuades Augustus from resigning the empire, on ac¬ count of the prodigies which happened at the beginning of the year. Enough of snow and hail in tempests dire Have pour’d on earth, while heaven’s eternal sire With red right arm at his own temples hurl’d His thunders, and alarm’d a guilty world, Lest Pyrrha should again with plaintive cries 5 Behold the monsters of the deep arise, When to the mountain summit Proteus drove His sea-born herd, and where the woodland dove Late perch’d, his wonted seat, the scaly brood Entangled hung upon the topmost wood, 10 And every timorous native of the plain, High-floating, swam amid the boundless main. We saw, push’d backward to his native source, The yellow Tiber roll his rapid course ; With impious ruin threatening Vesta’s fane, 15 And the great monuments of Numa’s reign; 3 Horace alludes to a superstitious opinion of the ancients, who believed that thunders, which portended any revolution in a state, were more inflamed than any other, as they fancied that the lightnings of Jupiter were red and fiery; those of the ouier gods pale and dark.— Cruq. I 20 HORACE. With grief and rage while Ilia’s bosom g.ows, Boastful, for her revenge, his waters rose; But now th’ uxorious river glides away, So Jove commands, smooth-winding to the sea. 20 And yet, less numerous by their parents’ crimes, Our sons shall hear, shall hear to latest times, Of Roman arms with civil gore imbrued, Which better had the Persian foe. subdued. Among her guardian gods, what pitying power 25 To raise her sinking state shall Rome implore ? Shall her own hallow’d virgin’s earnest prayer Harmonious charm offended Vesta’s ear? To whom shall Jove assign to purge away The guilty deed ? Come, then, bright god of day, 30 But gracious veil thy shoulders beamy bright, Oh! veil in clouds th’ insufferable light. Or come, sweet queen of smiles, while round thee rove, On wanton wing, the powers of mirth and love ; Or hither, Mars, thine aspect gracious bend, 35 And powerful thy neglected race defend. Parent of Rome, amid the rage of fight Sated with scenes of blood, thy fierce delight, Thou, whom the polish’d helm, the noise of arms, And the stern soldier’s frown with transport warms : Or thou, fair Maia’s winged son appear, 41 And human shape, in prime of manhood, wear; Declared the guardian of th’ imperial state, Divine avenger of great Caesar’s fate : Oh! late return to heav’n, and may thy reign 45 With lengthen’d blessings fill thy wide domain ! Nor let thy people’s crimes provoke thy flight, On air swift rising to the realms of light. BOOK I.-ODE III. 21 Great prince and father of the state, receive The noblest triumphs which thy Rome can give; 50 Nor let the Parthian, with unpunish’d pride, Beyond his bounds, 0 Caesar, dare to ride. ODE III.—TO THE SHIP IN WHICH VIRGIL SAILED TO ATHENS.* Horace wishes Virgil a prosperous voyage, and inveighs against the impious boldness of mankind. So may the Cyprian queen divine, And the twin-stars with saving lustre shine; So may the father of the wind All others, but the western breezes, bind, As you, dear vessel, safe restore, Th’ intrusted pledge to the Athenian shore, And of my soul the partner save, My much-loved Virgil from the raging wave. Or oak, or brass, with triple fold, Around that daring mortal’s bosom roll’d, 10 Who first, to the wild ocean’s rage, Launch’d the frail bark, and heard the winds engage * We may look on this ode as the last farewell of Horace to Virgil, when that poet went to finish his AHneid at Athens. The first eight lines are extremely soft and tender. From thence the poet, inspired by his affection for his friends, starts away, with a truly Pindaric spirit, to a description of all the terrors and dangers of the ocean, as if he were alarmed at sight of the ves¬ sel in which he fancies Virgil was exposed to all the hazards of the deep. He detests navigation : he thinks it a violation of the laws of nature ; an impious defiance of the will and power of the gods. In the remainder of the ode, with a noble moral spirit, he condemns in general the daring impiety of mankind, as if he saw it rise from the same principle which inspired their first at¬ tempts on the ocean. Thus we see how regular and strongly connected were the ancient Pindaric poems. Virgil went to Athens in the year of Rome 735, which fixes the date of this ode .—Le Fev. San. II It is an idle curiosity to inquire who was the first sailor since it is very probable navigation was known in the earliest 22 HORACE. Tempestuous, when the south descends Precipitate, and with the north contends; Nor fear’d the stars portending rain, 15 Nor the loud tyrant of the western main. Of power supreme the storm to raise, Or calmer smooth the surface of the seas. What various forms of death could fright The man, who view’d with fix’d, unshaken sight, 20 The floating monster’s, waves inflamed, And rocks, for shipwreck’d fleets, ill famed? Jove has the realms of earth in vain Divided by th’ inhabitable main, If ships profane, with fearless pride, 25 Bound o’er th’ inviolable tide. No laws, or human or divine, Can the presumptuous race of man confine. Thus from the sun’s ethereal beam When bold Prometheus stole th’ enlivening flame, Of fevers dire a ghastly brood, 31 Till then unknown, th’ unhappy fraud pursued; On earth their horrors baleful spread, And the pale monarch of the dead, Till then slow-moving to his prey, 35 Precipitately rapid swept his way. Thus did the venturous Cretan dare To tempt with impious wings the void of air; Through hell Alcides urged his course : No work too high for man’s audacious force. 40 Our folly would attempt the skies, And with gigantic boldness impious rise ; Nor Jove, provoked by mortal pride, Can lay his angry thunderbolts aside. ages of the world. Jason has been thought the inventor of it, because before his time the Greeks and Phoenicians sailed in round ships. He built the Argo, which, in the Phoenician lan¬ guage, signifies a long vessel.— Dac. A learned editor of Virgil’s Georgies believes that an alder tree, grown hollow with age, and falling into the river on which it was planted (for this tree delights in a moist soil, and banks of rivers), gave the first hint towards navigation. BOOK I.-ODE IV. 23 ODE IV.— 1 TO SESTIUS * An exhortation to pleasure, with considerations on the approach of spring, and the brevity of life. Fierce winter melts in vernal gales, And grateful zephyrs fill the spreading sails: No more the ploughman loves his fire, No more the lowing herds their stalls desire, While earth her richest verdure yields, 5 Nor hoary frosts now whiten o’er the fields. Now joyous through the verdant meads, Beneath the rising moon, fair Venus leads Her various dance, and with her train Of nymphs and modest graces shakes the plain, 10 While Vulcan’s glowing breath inspires The toilsome forge, and blows up all its fires. Now crown’d with myrtle, or the flowers Which the glad earth from her free bosom pours, * Although the subject of this ode be very common, yet there is nothing common in the manner in which Horace hath treated it. A certain gayety of spirit, under an air of seriousness, forms its peculiar character. Even the view of death at the end of it is a strong Epicurean reason for living as cheerfully as we can. By the descriptions of flowers, groves, and the festivals of Ve¬ nus, Faunus, and Death, which were celebrated in spring, the ode appears to have been written in the beginning of April, but in what year is uncertain. It is the only one of this form re¬ maining to us.— Dac. San. 8 We have here a very pretty opposition between the charac¬ ters of Venus and Vulcan; the gay delights of the wife, and the laborious employment of the husband; who is here de¬ scribed working in spring, that he might forge thunderbolts enough for Jupiter to throw in summer.— Rodelius. Das. 13 These verses continue the description of the feasts of Ve¬ nus ; for flowers, and particularly myrtle, were consecrated to that goddess. Lo ! the queen of pleasing pains Linking loves in mutual chains, Wreathes, the myrtle bowers between, Cottages of living gteen, 24 HORACE. We’ll offer, in the shady grove, 15 Or lamb, or kid, as Pan shall best approve. With equal pace, impartial fate Knocks at the palace, as the cottage gate, Nor should our sum of life extend Our growing hopes beyond their destined end. 20 When sunk to Pluto’s shadowy coasts, Oppress’d with darkness, and the fabled ghosts, No more the dice shall there assign To thee the jovial monarchy o.f wine; No more shall you the fair admire, 25 The virgin’s envy, and the youth’s desire. ODE V.—TO PYRRHA. Horace describes the wretched condition of those who are captivated by her charms, from the influence of which he has escaped, as from a shipwreck. While liquid odours round him breathe, What youth, the rosy bower beneath, Now courts thee to be kind 1 Pyrrha, for whose unwary heart Do you, thus dress’d with careless art, 5 Your yellow tresses bind! How often shall th’ unpractised youth Of alter’d gods, and injured truth With tears, alas! complain ? How soon behold with wondering eyes 10 1 The black’ning winds tempestuous rise, And scowl along the main? While by his easy faith betray’d, He now enjoys thee, golden maid, And commands her virgins gay Through the mazy groves to stray.— D. BOOK I.-ODE VI. 25 15 Thus amiable and kind; He fondly hopes, that you shall prove Thus ever vacant to his love, Nor heeds the faithless wind. Unhappy they, to whom untried You shine, alas! in beauty’s pride; 20 While 1, now safe on shore, Will consecrate the pictured storm, And all my grateful vows perform To Neptune’s saving power. ODE VI.—'TO AGRIPPA. Horace describes his genius as fitter for amorous subjects, than to celebrate the exploits of heroes. Varius, who soars on Homer’s wing, Agrippa, shall thy conquests sing, Whate’er, inspired by his command, The soldier dared on sea or land. But we nor tempt with feeble art 6 Achilles’ unrelenting heart, Nor sage Ulysses in our lays Pursues his wanderings through the seas; Nor ours in tragic strains to tell How Pelops’ cruel offspring fell. 10 The muse who rules th’ unwarlike lyre Forbids me boldly to aspire To thine or sacred Caesar’s fame, And hurt with feeble song the theme. Who can describe the god of fight 15 In adamantine armour bright, OrMerion on the Trojan shore With dust, how glorious! cover’d o’er, Or Diomed, by Pallas’ aid, To warring gods an equal made 1 Hor. Vol. 1.—C 20 26 HORACE. But whether loving, whether free, With all our usual levity, Untaught to strike the martial string, Of feasts and virgin fights we sing; Of maids, who when bold love assails, 25 Fierce in their anger—pare their nails. ODE VII.—TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS. Description of the pleasant retreat of Tibur—The poet ad vises Plancus to drive away care with wine, after the ex ample of Teucer. Let other poets in harmonious lays Immortal Rhodes or Mitylene praise ; Or Ephesus, or Corinth’s towery pride, Girt by the rolling main on either side; Or Thebes, or Delphos, for their gods renown’d, 5 Or Tempe’s plains, with flowery honours crown’d. There are, who sing in everlasting strains The towers where Wisdom’s virgin goddess reigns, And ceaseless toiling court the trite reward Of olive, pluck’d by every vulgar bard. 10 For Juno’s fame, th’ unnumber’d, tuneful throng With rich Mycene grace their favourite song, And Argos boast, of pregnant glebe to feed The warlike horse, and animate the breed: But me, nor patient Lacedaemon charms, 15 Nor fair Larissa with such transport warms, As pure Albunea’s far-resounding source, And rapid Anio, headlong in his course, Or Tibur, fenced by groves from solar beams, And fruitful orchards bathed by ductile streams. 20 ******* ****** The south wind often, when the welkin liwers, Sweeps off the clouds, nor teems perpetual showe X 0ST01 4 • *G>X- - 1 LI Sli AB.:!' CHKSTJSiUX 'HILL, MASS, BOOK I.-ODE VIII. 27 So, Plancus, be the happy wisdom thine 25 To end the cares of life in mellow’d wine ; Whether the camp with banners bright display’d, Or Tibur hold thee in its thick-wrought shade. When Teucer from his sire and country fled, With poplar wreaths the hero crown’d his head, 30 Reeking with wine, and thus his friends address’d, Deep sorrow brooding in each anxious breast; Bold let us follow through the foamy tides, Where fortune, better than a father, guides; Avaunt despair, when Teucer calls to fame, 35 The same your augur, and your guide the same. Another Salamis, in foreign clime, With rival pride shall raise her head sublime; So Phoebus nods; ye sons of valour true, Full often tried in deeds of deadlier hue, 40 To-day with wine drive every care away, To-morrow tempt again the boundless sea. 25 The philosophy of Epicurus in the hand of Horace is a universal remedy. It fortifies the mind in disgrace; it dissi¬ pates our cares, and cures superstition. It is a constant refuge from the cold of winter, and the heat of summer; the pains of sickness, and the terrors of death. ODE VIII.—TO LYDIA.* Horace blames Lydia for engaging Sybaris in dishonourable amours, and making him leave those manly exercises to which he had been accustomed. By the gods, my Lydia, tell, Ah ! why, by loving him too well, Why you hasten to destroy Young Sybaris, too amorous boy 1 * The design of this ode is not to reproach Sybaris with effeminacy, or his love of pleasure; but it seems to be written either in resentment or jealousy with regard to Lydia, who kept him disguised in a female dress.— Dac. 29 HORACE. Why he hates the sunny plain, 5 While he can sun or dust sustain 1 Why no more, with martial pride, Does he among his equals ride; Or the Gallic steed command With bitted curb and forming hand? 10 More than viper’s baleful blood Why does he fear the yellow flood Why detest the wrestler’s oil, While firm to bear the manly toil ? Where are now the livid scars 15 Of sportive, nor inglorious, wars, When for the quoit, with vigour thrown Beyond the mark, his fame was known 1 Tell us, why this fond disguise, In which, like Thetis’ son he lies, 20 Ere unhappy Troy had shed Here funeral sorrows for the dead, Lest a manly dress should fire His soul to war and carnage dire. 12 The Roman youth threw themselves into the Tiber after their exercises in the Campus Martius, and thought that such hardy discipline would strengthen them to bear the fatigues of war.— Ancient. Scholiast. 17 This quoit was very large and heavy, made of wood or stone, but more commonly of iron or brass. It was almost round, and somewhat thicker in the middle than at the edges. It was thrown by the sole force of the arm.— San. * BOOK I.-ODE IX. 29 ODE IX.—TO THALIARCHUS.* Horace exhorts Thaliarchus to pass the winter with gayety. Behold Soracte’s airy height, See how it stands a heap of snow; Behold the winter's hoary weight Oppress the labouring woods below; And by the season’s icy hand ’ 5 Congeal’d, the lazy rivers stand. Now melt away the winter’s cold, And larger pile the cheerful fire; Bring down the vintage four years old, W hose mellow’d heat can mirth inspire; 10 Then to the guardian powers divine Careless the rest of life resign : * Horace in this ode sets forth all his Epicurean philosophy, and so constant is he to his principles, that the different ages of man, and the various seasons of the year; the freshness of spring, and heat of summer; the ripeness of autumn, and cold¬ ness of winter, have their several engagements to pleasure. This ode was probably written at a country seat of Thaliarchus, near the mountain Soracte in Tuscany, six-and-twenty miles from Rome.— Dac. 11 Some commentators have found in these lines an air of Epicurean ridicule on the doctrine of the stoics, who asserted a Divine Providence even in events most inconsiderable. They think the poet has raised his style with an affected pomp of ex¬ pression, to render his ridicule more strong. That when the gods have commanded the raging of the winds to cease, all the wondrous effects of their power shall be, that the woods shall stand unshaken. On the contrary, there seems to be something just and noble in the thought, when taken in a moral sense, and which might naturally raise this greatness of expression; that when the gods have appeased the winds, not a leaf shall fall to the ground; and even trees decayed and sapless with age, shall stand unshaken. Such is the care and power of Providence. C 2 30 HORACE- For when the warring winds arise, And o’er the fervid ocean sweep, They speak—and lo! the tempest dies 15 On the smooth bosom of the deep; Unshaken stands the aged grove, And feels the providence of Jove. To-morrow with its cares despise, And make the present hour your own, 20 Be swift to catch it as it flies, And score it up as clearly won; Nor let your youth disdain to prove The joys of dancing and of love. Now let the grateful evening shade, 25 The public walks, the public park, An assignation sweetly made With gentle whispers in the dark: While age morose thy vigour spares, Be these thy pleasures, these thy cares. 30 The laugh that from the corner flies, The sportive fair one shall betray; Then boldly snatch the joyful prize; A ring or bracelet tear away, While she, not too severely coy, 35 Struggling shall yield the willing toy. ODE X.—HYMN TO MERCURY.* I sing the god, whose arts refined The savage race of humankind, * This ode was probably written for a festival of Mercury; yet there is nothing extraordinary in it, excepting an elegance ' of expression; allowing and harmony of numbers. We have in it all the honourable titles of Mercury. He is represented as fashioning the first race of men, and cultivating their under¬ standings, by the study of sciences most proper to soften their natural fierceness; while he forms their bodies by exercises BOOK I. ODE X. 31 By eloquence their passions charm’d, By exercise their bodies form’d: Hail, winged messenger of Jove, 5 And all th’ immortal powers above, Sweet parent of the bending lyre, Thy praise shall all its sounds inspire. Artful and cunning to conceal Whate’er in sportive theft you steal, 10 When from the god, who gilds the pole, Even yet a boy his herds you stole, With angry voice the threat’ning power Bade thee the fraudful prey restore ; But of his quiver too beguiled, 15 Pleased with the theft, Apollo smiled. You w r ere the wealthy Priam’s guide When safe from Agamemnon’s pride, Through hostile camps, which round him spread Their watchful fires, his way he sped. 20 Unspotted spirits you consign To blissful seats and joys divine, And powerful with your golden wand The light, unbodied crowd command; Thus grateful does your office prove 25 To gods below, and gods above. most capable of giving strength and grace. Such is the power of eloquence ; such the effect of wrestling.— San. 21 The ode could not end more happily than by showing Mer¬ cury in his religious ministry. This god seems to have been particularly invented for the happiness of humankind. He forms both their minds and bodies ; he raises them to the know ledge of the gods; he invents the innocent pleasures of life ; he assists them in their distresses, and continues his beneficence to them even after death, by conducting the souls of the good to the happiness of heaven. For this reason we sometimes find his name in ancient epitaphs.— San. 32 HORACE. ODE XI.—TO LEUCONOE.* Horace advises Leuconoe to indulge in pleasure, and to lay aside her anxiety to pry into futurity Strive not, Leuconoe, to pry Into the secret will of fate, Nor impious magic vainly try To know our lives’ uncertain date ; Whether th’ indulgent power divine 5 Hath many seasons yet in store, Or this the latest winter thine, Which breaks its waves against the shore. Thy life with wiser arts be crown’d, Thy filter’d wines abundant pour; 10 The lengthen’d hope with prudence bound Proportion’d to the flying hour; Even while we talk in careless ease, Our envious minutes wing their flight; Then swift the fleeting pleasure seize, 15 Nor trust to-morrow’s doubtful light. * This ode has much good sense in it to persuade us that all the arts of fortune-telling are a ridiculous, vain imposture, and that true wisdom consists in our enjoyment of the present hour, without too much anxiety for the future.— San. 1 All sciences of astrology and fortune-telling were forbidden, and considered as impious by the heathens ; but the words mean also that impossibility of knowing the future events of life, and the folly of tormenting ourselves to discover what is impenetra¬ ble to all our inquiries.— Cruq. ODE XII.—HYMN TO JOVE. A hymn in praise of gods and men. What man, what hero; on the tuneful lyre, Or sharp-toned flute, will Clio choose to raise BOOK I.-ODE XII. 33 Deathless to fame? What god? whose hallow’d name The sportive image of the voice Shall in the shades of Helicon repeat, 5 On Pindus, or on Haemus, ever cool, From whence the forests in confusion rose To follow Orpheus and his song: He, by his mother’s arts, with soft delay Could stop the river’s rapid lapse, or check 10 The winged winds; with strings of concord sweet Powerful the listening oaks to lead. Claims not th’ eternal sire his wonted praise ? Awful who reigns o’er gods and men supreme, Who sea and earth—this universal globe 15 With grateful change of seasons guides; From whom no being of superior power, Nothing of equal, second glory, springs, Yet first of all his progeny divine Immortal honours Pallas claims : 20 God of the vine, in deeds of valour bold, Fair virgin huntress of the savage race, And Phcebus, dreadful with unerring dart, Nor will I not your praise proclaim. Alcides’ labours, and fair Leda’s twins, 25 Famed for the rapid race, for wrestling famed, Shall grace my song ; soon as whose star benign Through the fierce tempest shines serene, Swift from the rocks down foams the broken surge, Calm are the winds, the driving clouds disperse, 30 And all the threat’ning waves, so will the gods, Smooth sink upon the peaceful deep. Here stops the song, doubtful whom next to praise, Or Romulus, or Numa’s peaceful reign, 34 We have in the following lines the most distinguished characters of the Roman story. The poet is doubtful whether he shall give the preference in fame to Romulus, who founded the monarchy of Rome ; to Numa, who confirmed it by the arts of peace; to Tarquinius Priscus, who, having conquered the people of Etruria, introduced the usage of the fasces, which 34 HORACE. The haughty ensigns of a Tarquin’s throne, 35 Or Cato, glorious in his fall. Grateful in higher tone the muse shall sing The fate of Regulus, the Scaurian race, And Paulus, mid the waste of Cannae’s field, How greatly prodigal of life ! 40 Form’d by the hand of penury severe, In dwellings suited to their small demain, Fabricius, Curius, and Camillus rose ; To deeds of martial glory rose Marcellus, like a youthful tree, of growth 45 Insensible, high shoots his spreading fame, And like the moon, the feebler fires among, Conspicuous shines the Julian star. Saturnian Jove, parent and guardian god Of human race, to thee the Fates assign 50 The care of Caesar’s reign ; to thine alone Inferior let his empire rise ; Whether the Parthian’s formidable powers, Or farthest India’s oriental sons, With suppliant pride beneath his triumph fall, 55 Wide o’er a willing world shall he Contented reign, and to the throne shall bend Submissive. Thou in thy tremendous car Shalt shake Olympus’ head, and at our groves Polluted hurl thy dreadful bolts. 60 added such lustre and majesty to the empire ; or to Cato, who died in defence of liberty, in opposition to a single magistrate. Nor should we be surprised that Horace mentions the defenders of liberty with so much honour. Virgil has done the same in the sixth book of his ./Eneid, and Cremutius Codrus, reciting his works to Augustus, called Brutus and Cassius “ the last of the Romans.” It seems to have been an established maxim of that emperor to indulge the people in a freedom of expressing in general their sentiments concerning liberty, that they might be less sensible of the slavery which was falling on them.— San. I BOOK I.-ODE XIV. 35 ODE XIII.—'TO LYDIA. Horace describes his own jealousy. Ah ! when on Telephus his charms, When on his rosy neck, and waxen arms, Lydia with ceaseless rapture dwells, With jealous spleen my glowing bosom swells, My reason in confusion flies, 5 And on my cheek th’ uncertain colour dies, While the down-stealing tear betrays The lingering flame, that on my vitals preys. I burn, when in excess of wine, Brutal, he soils those snowy arms of thine, 10 Or on thy lips the fierce-fond boy Impresses with his teeth the furious joy. If yet my voice can reach your ear, Hope not to find him constant and sincere, Cruel who hurts the fragrant kiss, 14 Which Venus bathes with quintessence of bliss. Thrice happy they, whom love unites In equal rapture, and sincere delights, Unbroken by complaints or strife, Even to the latest hours of life. 20 ODE XIV.—TO THE REPUBLIC.* The poet dissuades the Romans from reviving the civil war. The republic is represented under the allegory of a ship. Unhappy vessel! shall the waves again Tumultuous bear thee to the faithless main ? * In the year 725 Augustus consulted his favourites, Maece¬ nas and Agrippa, whether he should resign the sovereign au¬ thority. We have in Dion a speech of Maecenas on that occa¬ sion, in which the allegory of a ship and the republic is so strongly maintained, and has something so extremely like this 36 HORACE. What would thy madness, thus with storms to sport ? Cast firm your anchor in the friendly port. Behold thy naked decks: the wounded mast 5 And sail-yards groan beneath the southern blast, Nor without ropes thy keel can longer brave The rushing fury of th’ imperious wave : Torn are thy sails, thy guardian gods are lost, Whom you might call in future tempests toss’d. 10 What though majestic in your pride you stood A noble daughter of the Pontic wood, You now may vainly boast an empty name, Or birth conspicuous in the rolls of fame. The mariner, when storms around him rise, 15 No longer on a painted stern relies. Ah! yet take heed, lest these new tempests sweep In sportive rage thy glories to the deep. Thou late my deep anxiety and fear, And now my fond desire and tender care, 20 Ah! yet take heed, avoid these fatal seas, That roll among the shining Cyclades. ODE XV.* Nereus’ prophecy of the destruction of Troy. When the perfidious shepherd bore The Spartan dame to Asia’s shore, ode, that probably the poet took his design from thence as a compliment to his illustrious patron. *■ In the year 722 Antony set sail with a numerous fleet from Egypt to Peloponnesus, intending to pass over into Italy with Cleopatra, and make his country the scene of a second civil war. Inflamed with a violent passion for that princess, aspiring to nothing less than making her mistress of the universe, and supported by the forces of the east, he declared war against Octavius. Horace therefore, in a noble and poetical allegory, represents to Antony the fatal effects of such conduct, by pro¬ posing to him the example of Paris, and the ruinous conse¬ quences which attended his passion for Helen. BOOK I.-ODE XV. 37 Nereus the rapid winds oppress’d, And calm’d them to unwilling rest, That he might sing the dreadful fate 5 Which should their guilty loves await. Fatal to Priam’s ancient sway, You bear th’ ill-omen’d fair away, For soon shall Greece in arms arise, Deep-sworn to break thy nuptial ties. 10 What toils do men and horse sustain ! W T hat carnage loads the Dardan plain! Pallas prepares the bounding car, The shield and helm and rage of war. Though proud of Venus’ guardian care, 15 In vain you comb your flowing hair ; In vain you sweep th’ unwarlike string, And tender airs to females sing; For though the dart may harmless prove (The dart that frights the bed of love,) 20 Though you escape the noise of fight, Nor Ajax can o’ertake thy flight, Yet shalt thou, infamous of lust, Soil those adulterous hairs in dust. Look back and see, with furious pace, 25 That ruin of the Trojan race, Ulysses drives, and sage in years Famed Nestor, hoary chief, appears. Intrepid Teucer sweeps the field, And Sthenelus, in battle skill’d; 30 Or skill’d to guide with steady rein, And pour his chariot o’er the plain. Undaunted Merion shalt thou feel, While Diomed with furious steel, 15 Cleopatra is here represented under the character of Ve¬ nus. The court of that princess was the very dwelling of lux¬ ury and pleasure, where Antony plunged himself into the most infamous excesses. Hence the poet raises a just and natural allusion without doing violence to history. Pallas was the guardian of Menelaus, as Venus was the protectress of Paris. Thus Octavia supported Caesar, as Cleopatra appeared in de fence of Antony.— San. Hor. Vol. I.—D HORACE. 38 In arms superior to his sire, 35 Burns after thee with martial fire. As when a stag at distance spies A prowling wolf, aghast he flies, Of pasture heedless, so shall you, High-panting, fly when they pursue. 40 Not such the promises you made, Which Helen’s easy heart betray’d Achilles’ fleet with short delay, Vengeful protracts the fatal day, But when ten rolling years expire, 45 Thy Troy shall blaze in Grecian fire. \ ODE XVI.—TO TYNDARIS.* Horace attempts to appease Tyndaris, after having lampooned her mother Gratidia. Daughter, whose loveliness the bosom warms More than thy lovely mother’s riper charms, Give to my bold lampoons what fate you please, To wasting flames condemn’d, or angry seas. But yet rempmber, nor the god of wine, 5 Nor Pythian Phoebus, from his inmost shrine, Nor Dindymene, nor her priests possess’d, Can with their sounding cymbals shake the breast, Like furious anger in its gloomy vein, Which neither temper’d sword, nor raging main, Nor fire wide-wasting, nor tremendous Jove, 11 Rushing in baleful thunders from above, * Horace had written, when he was young, some severe verses on Gratidia, but being now in love with her daughter, he gives them to her resentment with a submission, which has, perhaps, more poetry than sincerity. It is formed in very loose, superficial terms, with a commonplace on the effects of anger, which seems to be raised with an affected pomp of style But whether his repentance was false or real, we find in the next ode that it was not unsuccessful.— Dac. San. BOOK I.-ODE XVII. 39 Can tame to fear. Thus sings the poet’s lay— Prometheus to inform his nobler clay Their various passions chose from every beast, 15 And with the lion’s rage inspired the human breast. From anger all the tragic horrors rose, That crush’d Thyestes with a weight of woes; From hence proud cities date their utter falls, When, insolent in ruin, o’er their walls 20 The wrathful soldier drags the hostile plough, That haughty mark of total overthrow. Me, too, in youth the heat of anger fired, And with the rapid rage of rhyme inspired; But now repentant, shall the muse again To softer numbers tune her melting strain, So thou recall thy threats, thy wrath control, Resume thy love, and give me back my soul. 21 It was a custom among the Romans to drive a plough over the walls of a city, which they destroyed, to signify that the ground on which it stood should be for ever employed in agri¬ culture.— Torr. ODE XVII.—TO TYNDARIS.* Horace invites Tyndaris to a safe retreat from the audacious¬ ness of Cyrus, in his Sabine villa. Pan from Arcadia’s hills descends To visit oft my Sabine seat; And here my tender goats defends From rainy winds, and summer’s fiery heat; * Horace having by the last ode made his peace with Tyn daris, now invites her to his country-seat, and offers her a re¬ tirement and security from the brutality of Cyrus, who had treated her with an unmanly rudeness and cruelty.— Cruq. / 40 HORACE. For when the vales, wide-spreading round 5 The sloping hills, and polish’d rocks With his harmonious pipe resound, In fearless safety graze my wandering flocks; In safety, through the woody brake, The latent shrubs and thyme explore, 10 Nor longer dread the speckled snake, And tremble at the martial wolf no more. Their poet to the gods is dear ; They love his piety and muse ; And all our rural honours here 15 Their flow’ry wealth around thee shall diffuse. Here shall you tune Anacreon’s lyre, Beneath a shady mountain’s brow, To sing frail Circe’s guilty fire, And chaste Penelope’s unbroken vow. 20 Far from the burning dogstar’s rage, Here shall you quaff our harmless wine; Nor here shall Mars intemperate wage Rude war with him who rules the jovial vine. Nor Cyrus’ bold suspicions fear ; 25 Not on thy softness shall he lay His desperate hand, thy clothes to tear, Or brutal snatch thy festal crown away. ODE XVIII.—TO VARUS.* Horace recommends a moderate use of wine. Round Catilus’ walls, or in Tibur’s rich soil, To plant the glad vine be my Varus’ first toil; * This ode is an imitation of one written by Alcaeus on the same subject, and in the same kind of verse. It is remarkable that the poet begins with great calmness to describe the fatal consequences which attend our excesses in BOOK I. ODE XVIII. 41 For God hath proposed to the wretch, who’s athirst, To drink; or with heart-gnawing cares to be cursed. Of war, or of want, who e’er prates o’er his wine 1 5 For ’tis thine, Father Bacchus ; bright Venus, ’tis thine, To charm all his cares; yet that no one may pass The freedom and mirth of a temperate glass, Let us think on the Lapithae’s quarrels so dire, And the Thracians, whom wine can to madness inspire: 10 Insatiate of liquor, when giow their full veins, No distinction of vice, or of virtue remains. Great god of the vine, who dost candour approve, I ne’er will thy statues profanely remove ; I ne’er will thy rites, so mysterious, betray 15 To the broad-glaring eye of the tale-telling day. Oh! stop the loud cymbal, the cornet’s alarms, Whose sound, when the bacchanal’s bosom it warms, Arouses self-love, by blindness misled, And vanity, lifting aloft the light head ; 20 And honour, of prodigal spirit, that shows, Transparent as glass, all the secrets it knows. wine. He then suddenly falls into a poetical disorder, which seems almost natural to his subject, and which breaks forth into stronger ideas, figurative expressions, and a style broken and unconnected. Thus the difference of the two characters which divide this ode is not the meanest of its beauties, and the tran¬ sition from one to the other is natural and well conducted.— Dac. San. 13 This poetical sally is admirable yet, sudden as it is, does not transport the poet out ol his subject. He proposes to prac¬ tise that moderation which he recommends to others, and in¬ treats the god not to abandon him to the vices with which he afflicts those who profane his benefits by a sacrilegious abuse of them.— San. D 2 42 HORACE. ODE XIX.—ON GLYCERA. Horace acknowledges that he is inflamed with the love of Glycera. Venus, who gave the Cupids birth, And the resistless god of wine, With the gay power of wanton mirth, Now bid my heart its peace resign ; Again for Glycera I burn, 5 And all my long-forgotten flames return. Like Parian marble, pure and bright, The shining maid my bosom warms: Her face, too dazzling for the sight, Her sweet coqueting—how it charms ! 10 Whole Venus rushing through my veins, No longer in her favourite Cyprus reigns; No longer suffers me to write Of Scythians, fierce in martial deed; Or Parthian, urging in his flight 15 The battle with reverted steed; Such themes she will no more approve. Nor aught that sounds impertinent to love. Here let the living altar rise Adorn’d with every herb and flower; 20 Here flame the incense to the skies, And purest wine’s libation pour; Due honours to the goddess paid, Soft sinks to willing love the yielding maid. BOOK I.— ODE XX. 43 ODE XX.—TO MAECENAS.* . i The poet promises to Maecenas a frugal entertainment. A poet’s beverage, vile, and cheap (Should great Maecenas be my guest,) Crude vintage of the Sabine grape, But yet in sober cups, shall crown the feast : ’Twas rack’d into a Grecian cask, 5 Its rougher juice to melt away, I seal’d it too—a pleasing task! With annual joy to mark the glorious day, When in applausive shouts thy name Spread from the theatre around, 10 Floating on thy own Tiber’s stream, And Echo, playful nymph, return’d the sound. From the Caecubian vintage press’d For you shall flow the racy wine ; But ah! my meager cup’s unbless’d 15 With the rich Formian, or Falernian vine. [The reader will find ode xxi. in the second concert of the Secular Poem, at the end of the Odes.] * Whatever pleasures Horace found in his country-seat, it was very ill situated for a poet, who was by no means an enemy to a glass of good wine. He therefore tells his illustrious guest, who was used to the richest wines of Greece and Italy, that he had none but of the Sabine growth, and seems to make the frank confession, that Maecenas might either be contented with what he found, or rather, that he should bring better from Rome.— San. 44 HORACE. ODE XXII.—TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS.* The poet attributes the preservation of his life to conscious innocence and Lalage’s favour. The man, who knows not guilty fear, Nor wants the bow, nor pointed spear; Nor needs, while innocent of heart, The quiver, teeming with the poison’d dart; Whether through Libya’s burning sands 5 His journey leads, or Scythia’s lands, Inhospitable waste of snows, Or where the fabulous Hydaspes flows : For musing on my lovely maid, While careless in the woods I stray’d, 10 A wolf—how dreadful! cross’d my way, Yet fled—he fled from his defenceless prey: No beast of such portentous size i In warlike Daunia’s forests lies ; Nor such the tawny lion reigns 15 Fierce on his native Afric’s thirsty plains. * Although the poet seems to have been in love with Lalage, yet he had too much friendship for Aristius to be his rival. He therefore begins this ode with a profession of his innocence, and integrity of manners, to convince Aristius that he ought not to be jealous even while he is praising his mistress.— Dac. 1 The first cause, to which the poet attributes his preserva¬ tion, is the innocence and integrity of his life ; and he is of too careless and unaffected a character to be suspected of insin¬ cerity, whatever were his Epicurean principles. With the worst speculative opinions, a man may be morally honest and virtuous. 4 The Africans were obliged to poison their arrows to defend them from the wild beasts with which their country was in¬ fested. This poison was a mixture of viper’s and human blood, and Pliny tells us it was incurable.— Dac. BOOK I.-ODE XXIII. 45 Place me where never summer breeze Unbinds the glebe, or warms the trees ; Where ever-lowering clouds appear, And angry Jove deforms th’ inclement year: 20 Place me beneath the burning ray, Where rolls the rapid car of day; Love and the nymph shall charm my toils, The nymph, who sweetly speaks, and sweetly smiles. ODE XXIII.—'TO CHLOE. Chloe being now marriagable, Horace reproves her affected coyness. Chloe flies me like a fawn, Which through some sequester’d lawn Panting seeks the mother deer, Not without a panic fear Of the gently breathing breeze, 5 And the motion of the trees. If the curling leaves but shake, If a lizard stir the brake, Frighted it begins to freeze, Trembling both at heart and knees. 10 But not like a tiger dire, Nor a lion, fraught with ire, I pursue my lovely game To destroy her tender frame. 1 We have a very pretty imitation of these lines in Spenser: Like as a hind- Yet flies away, of her own feet affear’d ; And every leaf that shaketh with the least Murmur of wind, her terrour hath encreast. 46 HORACE. ODE XXIV.— 1 TO VIRGIL.* Horace admonishes his friend to bear with patience the death of Quintilius. / Wherefore restrain the tender tear? Why blush to weep for one so dear 1 Sweet muse, of melting voice and lyre, Do thou the mournful song inspire. Quintilius—sunk to endless rest, 5 With Death’s eternal sleep oppress’d ! Oh! when shall Faith, of soul sincere, Of .Justice pure the sister fair, And Modesty, unspotted maid, And Truth in artless guise array’d, 10 Among the race of humankind An equal to Quintilius find ? How did the good, the virtuous mourn, And pour their sorrows o’er his urn 1 But, Virgil, thine the loudest strain ; 15 Yet all thy pious grief is vain. In vain do you the gods implore Thy loved Quintilius to restore ; Whom on far other terms they gave, By nature fated to the grave. 20 What though you can the lyre command, And sweep its tones with softer hand Than Orpheus, whose harmonious song Once drew the listening trees along, * There Is something- very artful, and yet very natural, in the opening of this ode. The design of the poet is to comfort Vir¬ gil for the death of their common friend; but instead of directly opposing his grief, he encourages him to indulge in it even to excess. He sets the virtues of Quintilius in their strongest light, and joins with Virgil in his sorrows for the loss of a person so extraordinary. A direct opposition of reason and comfort is an insult to the afflicted. We must seem to feel their sorrow, and make it our own, before we pretend to find a remedy for it BOOK 1.-ODE XXV. 47 25 Yet ne’er returns the vital heat The shadowy form to animate ; For when the ghost-compelling god Forms his black troops with horrid rod, He will not, lenient to the breath Of prayer, unbar the gates of death. 30 ’Tis hard; but patience must endure, And sooth the woes it cannot cure. 25 The theology of the ancients taught, that when a man was dead, his soul, or the spiritual part of him, went to heaven; that his body continued in the earth; and his image or shadow went to hell. The image was a corporal part of the soul, a kind of subtle body, with which it was clothed.— San. ODE XXV.—'TO LYDIA. Horace takes occasion to contrast the former haughtiness and present degradation of an antiquated belle. The wanton herd of rakes profess’d, Thy windows rarely now molest With midnight raps, or break thy rest With riot. The door, that kindly once could move 5 The pliant hinge, begins to love Tts threshold, and no more shall prove Unquiet. Now less and less assail thine ear These plaints : “ Ah ! sleepest thou, my dear, While I, whole nights, thy truelove here II Am dying V ’ You in your turn shall weep the taunts Of young and insolent gallants, In some dark alley’s midnight haunts Late plying: 15 I 48 HORACE. Our'youth, regardless of thy frown, Their heads with fresher wreaths shall crown And fling thy wither’d garlands down The river. 20 ODE XXVI.—TO HIS MUSE. The poet implores his muse to enable him to celebrate the praises of Lamia. While in the muse’s friendship bless’d, Nor fear, nor grief, shall break my rest; Bear them, ye vagrant winds, away, And drown them in the Cretan sea. Careless am I, or who shall reign 5 The tyrant of the Scythian plain; Or with what anxious fear oppress’d, Heaves Tiridates’ panting breast. Sweet muse, who lov’st the virgin spring, Hither thy sunny flow’rets bring, 10 And let thy richest chaplet shed Its fragrance round my Lamia’s head, For naught avails the poet’s praise Unless the muse inspire his lays. Oh ! string the Lesbian lyre again, 15 Let all thy sisters raise the strain, And consecrate to deathless fame My loved, my Lamia’s honour’d name. <. . ODE XXVII.—TO HIS COMPANIONS.* Horace exhorts his companions to refrain from wrangling over their liquor. With glasses, made for gay delight, ’Tis Thracian, savage rage to fight. * Horace was at an entertainment, when a dispute began to inflame some of the company, already heated with wine. In¬ stead of endeavouring to restore peace by grave advice and BOOK I.—ODE XXVII. 49 With such intemperate, bloody fray, Fright not the modest god away. Monstrous ! to see the dagger shine 5 Amid the midnight joys of wine. Here bid this impious clamour cease, And press the social couch in peace. Say, shall I drink this heady wine, Press’d from the rough Falernian vine t 10 Instant, let yonder youth impart The tender story of his hegrt, By what dear wound he blissful dies, And whence the gentle arrow flies. What! does the bashful boy deny ? 15 Then, if I drink it let me die. Whoe’er she be, a generous flame Can never know the blush of shame. Thy breast no slave-born Venus fires, But fair, ingenuous love inspires. 20 Then safely whisper in my ear, For all such trusts are sacred here. Ah! worthy of a better flame ! Unhappy youth ! is she the dame 1 Unhappy youth ! how art thou lost, 25 In what a sea of troubles toss’d! What drugs, what witchcraft, or what charms, What god can free thee from her arms J Scarce Pegasus can disengage Thy heart from this Chimaera’s rage. 30 sober reasoning, he makes them a gay proposal of drowning all quarrels in a bumper. It was cheerfully received, and probably the success of it made the poet think it worthy of being the subject of an ode.— San. 9 Athenaeus tells us there were two kinds of Falernian wine ; one, strong and heady; the other, smooth and sweet. The poet therefore offers to drink a cup of the stronger kind, though he knew the strength of it, to show at what expense he would re¬ cover the good-humour of the company. Hor. Vol. I.—E 50 HORACE ODE XXVIII. A MARINER AND THE GHOST OF ARCHYTAS. Under the form of a dialogue between a sailor and the ghost of Archytas, he ridicules the opinions of the Pythagoreans, and recommends the care of the burial of the dead. * f Mariner. Archytas, what avails thy nice survey Of ocean’s countless sands, of earth and sea 1 In vain thy mighty spirit once could soar To orbs celestial, and their course explore ; If here, upon the tempest-beaten strand, 5 You lie confined, till some more liberal hand Shall strow the pious dust in funeral rite, And wing thee to the boundless realms of light. Ghost. Even he, who did with gods the banquet share, Tithonus, raised to breathe celestial air, 10 And Minos, Jove’s own counsellor of state, All these have yielded to the power of fate. M. Even your own sage, whose monumental shield, Borne through the terrors of the Trojan field, Proved that alone the mouldering body dies, 15 And souls immortal from our ashes rise, Even he a second time resign’d his breath, Sent headlong to the gloomy realms of death. G. Not meanly skill’d, even by your own ap¬ plause, In moral truth, and Nature’s secret laws. 20 One endless night for all mankind remains, And once we all must tread the shadowy plains. 6 The ancients believed that the souls, whose bodies were left unburied, were not permitted to pass over the river Styx, but wandered a hundred years on its banks. In allusion to this opinion Horace says, “ A little present of dust detains you that is, you are detained from the Elysian fields for want of a little present of dust. BOOK I.-ODE XXIX. 51 In horrid pomp of war the soldier dies ; The sailor in the greedy ocean lies; Thus age and youth promiscuous crowd the tomb : No mortal head can shun th’ impending doom. 26 When sets Orion’s star, the winds, that sweep The raging waves, o’erwhelm’d me in the deep : Nor thou, my friend, refuse with impious hand A little portion of this wandering sand 30 To these my poor remains; so may the storm Rage o’er the woods, nor ocean’s face deform : May gracious Jove with wealth thy toils repay, And Neptune guard thee through the watery way. Thy guiltless race this bold neglect shall mourn, And thou shalt feel the just returns of scorn. 36 My curses shall pursue the guilty deed, And all, in vain, thy richest victims bleed. Whatever thy haste, oh ! let my prayer prevail, Thrice strow the sand, then hoist the flying sail. 40 26 In allusion to a superstition of the ancients, who believed that no person could die until Proserpine or Atropos had cut off a lock of his hair. This ceremony was considered as a kind of first fruits consecrated to Pluto.— Torr. 40 It was sufficient for all the rites of sepulture that dust should be thrice thrown on an unburied body.— Torr. Dac. ODE XXIX.—TO ICCIUS.* The poet banters Iccius for leaving his study of philosophy to become a soldier. 4 Iccius, the bless’d Arabia’s gold Can you with envious eye behold ? * In the year 729 Augustus sent an army against the Ara¬ bians. The expedition was unsuccessful by an unusual sickness among the soldiers. Horace, with a good deal of pleasantry, ridicules Iccius for leaving the quiet and easy study of philoso¬ phy to pursue the dangers and fatigues of war, while he sup¬ poses him to meditate some mighty proofs of his courage, and to subdue all Arabia in his first campaign.— San. 52 HORACE. Or will you boldly take the field, And teach Sabaea’s kings to yield, Or meditate the dreadful Mede 5 In chains triumphantly to lead 1 Should you her hapless lover slay, What captive maid shall own thy sway 1 What courtly youth with essenced hair Shall at thy board the goblet bear, 10 Skilful with his great father’s art To wing with death the pointed dart I Who shall deny that streams ascend, And Tiber’s currents backward bend, When you have all our hopes betray’d; 15 You, that far other promise made ; When all your volumes, learned store! The treasures of Socratic lore, Once bought at mighty price, in vain, Are sent to purchase arms in Spain 1 20 ODE XXX.—TO VENUS.* Horace invokes Venus to be present at Glycera’s private sacrifice. Queen of beauty, queen of smiles, Leave, oh! leave thy favourite isles : A temple rises to thy fame Where Glycera invokes thy name, And bids the fragrant incense flame. 5 With thee bring thy love-warm son, The graces bring with flowing zone, * The versification and images of this little ode are beautiful and harmonious; nor is it possible to have given Venus a more gallant, as well as modest retinue. We may conjecture, not without probability, that it was written when Horace was about six-and-forty years of age.— San. 7 The Graces were the most amiable divinities of the hea then mythology. They presided over benefits, and the grati¬ tude due to them; they bestowed liberality, wisdom, and BOOK I.-ODE XXXI. 53 The nymphs, and jocund M'ercury, And sprightly youth, who without thee Is naught but savage liberty. 10 ;, Ul. . »\ J $ ODE XXXI.—TO APOLLO.* Horace asserts that a sound state of the body and mind, to¬ gether with a taste for poetry, exceeds all other blessings of hie. When at Apollo’s hallow’d shrine The poet hails the power divine, And here his first libations pours, What is the blessing he implores 1 He nor desires the swelling grain, 5 That yellows o’er Sardinia’s plain; Nor the fair herds, that lowing feed On warm Calabria’s flowery mead; Nor ivory, of spotless shine ; Nor gold, forth-flaming from its mine ; 10 eloquence; they dispensed that gayety of humour, that easi¬ ness of manners, and all those amiable qualities, which render society delightful and pleasurable. They alone could give that certain happiness of manner, which we all can understand, yet no one is able to express; which often supplies the place of real merit, and without which merit itself is imperfect. To temper the vivacity of Cupid, the Graces are here made his companions, and appear with their garments flowing and un¬ girded, to show that the festival should be celebrated with the greatest modesty and discretion.— San. * We have in this ode a fund of morality sufficient to prove the vanity of our desires, and the worthlessness of what we usually call business. Reason and nature know but few ne¬ cessities, while avarice and ambition are for ever finding out imaginary wants. In the year 726 Octavius dedicated to Apollo a library and temple in his palace on mount Palatine, which having been struck with lightning, the augurs said the god demanded that it should be consecrated to him. Horace was then thirty-nine years old.— San. 54 HORACE. Nor the rich fields, that Liris laves, And eats away with silent waves. Let others quaff the racy wine, To whom kind fortune gives the vine; The golden goblet let him drain 15 Who vent’rous ploughs the Atlantic main, Bless’d with three safe returns a year, For he to every god is dear. To me boon Nature frankly yields Her wholesome sallad from the fields ; 20 Nor ask I more, than sense and health Still to enjoy my present wealth. From age and all its weakness free, O son of Jove, preserved by thee, Give me to strike the tuneful lyre, 25 And thou my latest song inspire ! 17 When the poet has described a crowd of votaries who fatigue the god with their petitions, he now prefers his own prayer, in which his wishes are bounded by good sense and modesty. He leaves to others the views of an imaginary hap¬ piness, and wisely asks for the real blessings which he is capa¬ ble of enjoying. “ Oh, ye gods,” says a wise heathen, “ deny us what we ask if it shall be hurtful to us, and grant us whatever shall be profitable for us, even though we do not ask it ODE XXXII.—TO HIS LYRE.* Being desired to write a secular ode, Horace invokes his lyre to assist him with strains equal to the subject. If with thee beneath the shade Many an idle air I play’d, * Augustus commanded Horace to write the secular poem. The poet, justly sensible of an honour which declared him the first lyric poet of his age, in this ode invokes his lyre to in¬ spire him with something worthy of such a mark of distinction, and which might deserve the care and regard of posterity.— Hamdvus. San. BOOK 1.-ODE XXXIII. 55 Now the Latian song, my lyre, With some immortal strain inspire, Such as once Alcaeus sung, 5 Who, fierce in war, thy music strung, When he heard the battle roar, Or moor’d his sea-toss’d vessel on the shore. Wine and the muses were his theme, And Venus, laughter-loving dame, With Cupid ever by her side, 10 And Lycus, form’d in beauty’s pride, With his hair of jetty dye, And the black lustre of his eye. Charming shell, Apollo’s love, How grateful to the feasts of Jove! 15 Hear thy poet’s solemn prayer, Thou soft’ner of each anxious care. ODE XXXIII.—TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS. Horace endeavours to console Tibullus by instancing others who were in love without a mutual return. No more in elegiac strain Of cruel Glycera complain, Though she resign her faithless charms To a new lover’s younger arms. The maid, for lovely forehead famed, 5 With Cyrus’ beauties is inflamed; While Pholoe, of haughty charms, The panting breast of Cyrus warms; But wolves and goats shall sooner prove The pleasures of forbidden love 10 Than she her virgin honour stain, And not the filthy rake disdain. So Venus wills, whose power controls The fond affections of our souls; With sportive cruelty she binds 15 Unequal forms, unequal minds. f 56 HORACE. Thus, when a better Venus strove To warm my youthful breast to love, Yet could a slave-born maid detain My willing heart in pleasing chain, 20 Though fiercer she than waves that roar Winding the rough Calabrian shore. / ODE XXXIV.* In a pretended recantation, Horace overthrows the arguments in favour of the providence of the gods. A fugitive from heaven and prayer, I mock’d at all religious fear, Deep scienced in the mazy lore Of mad philosophy; but now Hoist sail, and back my voyage plough 5 To that bless’d harbour which I left before. For lo ! that awful heavenly sire, Who frequent cleaves the clouds with fire, Parent of day, immortal Jove ! Late through the floating fields of air, 10 The face of heaven serene and fair, His thund’ring steeds, and winged chariot drove; * The commentators are much divided about the design and intention of this ode; whether the poet has made a sincere recantation of the Epicurean philosophy, or whether he laughs at the stoics by a pretended conversion to their doctrine. The last opinion is supported by the following reasons. If Horace really abjured the sect of Epicurus, it must have been in the last ten years of his life, as appears by the fourth epistle of the first book; and as it was a frequent argument against atheists, that although clouds are naturally the cause of thunder, yet it is sometimes heard in a clear sky. Horace must have early known an instance of this kind of reasoning, as well as the stoical conclusion drawn from it. But, besides the weakness of the reason which he gives for changing his religious principles, it is a little extraordinary that we should not have any other the least proof of his conversion in his whole works. BOOK I.-ODE XXXV. 57 When, at the bursting of his flames, The ponderous earth, and vagrant streams, Infernal Styx, the dire abode 15 Of hateful Tsenarus profound, And Atlas to his utmost bound, Trembled beneath the terrors of the god. The hand of Jove can crush the proud Down to the meanest of the crowd, 20 And raise the lowest in his stead; But rapid fortune pulls him down, And snatches his imperial crown, To place, not fix it, on another’s head. ODE XXXV.—TO FORTUNE.* Our poet prays for Augustus, the commonwealth, and the Ro¬ man armies. Goddess, whom Antium, beauteous town, obeys, Whose various will with instant power can raise Frail mortals from the depths of low despair, Or change proud triumphs to the funeral tear; Thee, the poor farmer, who with ceaseless pain 5 Labours the glebe; thee, mistress of the main, * The subject of this ode is perfectly noble, well designed, and well executed. Its versification is flowing and harmonious, its expression bold and sublime. In the year 719 Augustus was on his march to Britain, but was recalled by a revolt of the Dalmatians. ' In 727, having ended the civil wars by the defeat of Antony, he again resolved to turn his arms against that island, but was satisfied with an embassy from thence, and a promise of obedience to any con¬ ditions which he pleased to impose on them. These conditions not being well observed he was determined to make the Britons feel the effects of his displeasure, yet was again obliged to em¬ ploy the forces of the republic in suppressing an insurrection of the Sallassi, Cantabri, and Austrii.— San. It is indifferent on which of these occasions this ode was written, and it is impossible to determine with any exactness. 58 HORACE. The sailor, who with fearless spirit dares The rising tempest, courts with anxious prayers. Thee, the rough Dacian, thee, the vagrant band Of field-born Scythians, Latium’s warlike land, 10 Cities and nations, mother-queens revere, And purple tyranny beholds with fear. Nor in thy rage with foot destructive spurn This standing pillar, and its strength o’erturn; Nor let the nations rise in bold uproar, 15 And civil war, to break th’ imperial power. With solemn pace and firm, in awful state Before thee stalks inexorable Fate, And grasps empaling nails, and wedges dread, The hook tormentous, and the melted lead: 20 Thee, hope and honour, now, alas, how rare! With white enrobed, attend with duteous care, When from the palace of the great you fly In angry mood, and garb of misery. Not such the crowd of light companions prove, 25 Nor the false mistress of a wanton love, Faithless who wait the lowest dregs to drain, Nor friendships equal yoke with strength sustain. Propitious guard our Caesar, who explores His venturous way to farthest Britain’s shore ; 30 Our new-raised troops be thy peculiar care, Who dreadful to the east our banners bear. 23 This passage has some difficulty. Fortune never leaves any person. When she is favourable, the poet represents her under the idea of a woman finely dressed, who fills her house with happiness and abundance ; but when she changes her temper, she is represented as changing her dress, and leaving the house to destruction and misery. Thus she still continues a companion, even to them whom she has rendered miserable.—• Dac. 31 In the end of the year 727 iElius Gallus marched with BOOK I.-ODE XXXVI. 59 Alas ! the shameless scars! the guilty deeds, When by a brother’s hand a brother bleeds! What crimes have we, an iron age, not dared 1 35 In terror of the gods what altar spared 1 Oh! that our swords with civil gore distain’d, And in the sight of gods and men profaned— Sharpen again, dread queen, the blunted steel, And let our foes the pointed vengeance feel. 40 ' i ODE XXXVI.* Horace congratulates Numida on his happy return from Spain. With incense heap the sacred fire, And bolder strike the willing lyre. Now let the heifer’s votive blood Pour to the gods its purple flood; Those guardian gods, from farthest Spain, 5 W T ho send our Numida again. A thousand kisses now he gives, A thousand kisses he receives. But Lamia most his friendship proves; Lamia with tenderness he loves. 10 At school their youthful love began, Whence they together rose to man. With happiest marks the day shall shine, Nor want th’ abundant joy of wine; an army to succeed Cornelius in the government of Egypt, and as he wanted a fleet for his expeditions against the Arabians, he ordered a number of ships to be built in the ports of the Red Sea. As this army alarmed all the countries of the east, so the Romans had the greatest expections that it would revenge all the insults which the republic had received from the Parthians. * It is probable that this ode was written in the year 730, when Numida returned with Augustus from the war of Spain; and we may judge with how much tenderness Horace loved his friends, when he celebrated their return with sacrifices, dances, and songs.— San. 60 HORACE. Like Salian priests the dance we’ll lead, 15 And many a mazy measure tread. Now let the Thracian goblet foam, Nor in the breathless draught o’ercome Shall Bassus yield his boasted name To Damalis, of tippling fame. 20 Here let the rose and lilly shed Their short-lived bloom ; let parsley spread Its living verdure o’er the feast, And crown with mingled sweets the guest. On Damalis each amorous boy 25 Shall gaze with eyes that flow with joy, While she, as curls the ivy plant, Shall twine luxuriant round her new gallant. 18 This signifies a custom among the Thracians of drinking a certain measure of wine without closing the lips or taking breath.— Lamb. 20 The ancient Romans had such an abhorrence of a woman’s drinking to excess, that the laws of the twelve tables permitted a husband to punish his wife with death who was guilty of that crime.— San. 26 The eye, by excess of wine, is loose and flowing, or almost dissolved and broken. As love has the same effect, Anacreon desires a painter to draw the eyes of his mistress, like those of Venus, “flowing in moisture.”— Turner. ODE XXXVII.—TO HIS COMPANIONS.* Horace exhorts his companions to rejoice on account of Cleopatra’s death. Now let the bowl with wine be crown’d, Now lighter dance the mazy round, And let the sacred couch be stored W T ith the rich dainties of a priestly board. * The death of Cleopatra put an end to the war between Oc. tavius and Antony. Horace composed six odes on this subject, and although this be the last, yet it is not the least beautiful. X BOOK I.-ODE XXXVII. 61 Sooner to draw the mellow’d wine, 5 „ Pressed from the rich Caecubian vine, Were impious mirth, while yet elate The queen breathed ruin to the Roman state. Surrounded by a tainted train, Wretches enervate and obscene, 10 She raved of empire—nothing less— Vast in her hopes, and giddy with success. But, hardly rescued from the flames, One lonely ship her fury tames ; While Caesar, with impelling oar, 15 Pursued her flying from the Latian shore: Her, with Egyptian wine inspired, With the full draught to madness fired, Augustus sobered into tears, And turned her visions into real fears. 20 As, darting sudden from above, The hawk attacks a tender dove; Or sweeping huntsman drives the hare O’er wide ASmonia’s icy deserts drear; As if the success of Octavius had given him new strength, the poet and hero are equally triumphant. The character of Cleo¬ patra is perfectly finished, and her death represented in very natural and lively colours. All her passions are in violent mo¬ tion ; her ambition is drunkenness—her love is madness — and her courage is despair; while the soul of the poet seems to be animated with all her transports, which break forth into a gran¬ deur of sentiments, a boldness of figures, and an energy of ex¬ pression.— Torr. San. 13 The fleet of Antony, even after his flight, made such an obstinate resistance, as obliged Augustus to send for fire from his camp to destroy it.— Dac. 16 Cleopatra left Egypt with a numerous and formidable fleet, and sailed, as to a certain conquest, towards Italy, which, from being an object of her hopes, was now become a scene of terror, from which she fled, in the greatest disorder, with all the speed of sails and oars.— San. Hor. Vol. I.»—F 62 HORACE. So Caesar through the billows press’d 25 To lead in chains the fatal pest: But she a nobler fate explored, Nor woman-like beheld the deathful sword, Nor with her navy fled dismay’d, In distant realms to seek for aid; 30 But saw unmoved her state destroy’d, Her palace desolate—a lonely void. With fearless hand she dared to grasp The writhings of the wrathful asp, And suck the poison through her veins, 35 Resolved on death, and fiercer from its pains: Then, scorning to be led the boast Of mighty Caesar’s naval host, And armed with more than mortal spleen, Defrauds a triumph, and expires a queen. 40 26 Octavius had given particular directions to Proculeius and Epaphrodidus to take Cleopatra alive, that he might make him¬ self master of her treasures, and have the glory of leading her in triumph. Justly sensible of this ignominy, she had reserved a dagger for her last extremities; and when she saw Proculeius enter, she raised it to stab herself, but he dexterously wrenched, it from her.— Lamb. 40 Thus died the most beautiful and most ambitious princess in the world, at the age of thirty-eight years, of which she reigned seventeen. With her fell the Egyptian monarchy, which had subsisted two hundred fourscore and fourteen years, under thir teen kings of the family of the Lagidae.— San. i . i. BOOK I.—ODE XXXVIII. 63 ODE XXXVIII.—TO HIS SLAVE.* Horace forewarns his servant against any extravagance at hi. entertainment. I tell thee, boy, that I detest The grandeur of a Persian feast, Nor for me the linden’s rhind Shall the flowery chaplet bind. Then search not where the curious rose 5 Beyond his season loitering grows, But beneath the mantling vine, While I quaff the flowing wine ; The myrtle’s wreath shall crown our brows, While you shall wait, and I carouse. 10 * This little piece has nothing remarkable either in the sub¬ ject or the composition. It is rather a song than an ode; and yet the genius and manner of a great master appears in the smallest works. We find here an expression easy and natural, verses flowing and harmonious, and a little stroke of pleasantry, which very happily ends the song. Horace had probably invited some of his friends to supper, and his slave was making an ex¬ traordinary preparation for their entertainment. But our poet, in his epicurean wisdom, declares that pleasures more simple and less extravagant were better suited to his taste.— San. 9 The ancients used to crown their heads with myrtle in their feasts, not only because it was sacred to Venus, but because they thought it dispelled the vapours of their wine.— Lamb. \ 64 HORACE. BOOK II. ODE I.—TO ASINIUS POLLIO.* Horace entreats Pollio to quit tragedy for the present, that he may apply himself wholly to the history of the civil wars. f - O, Pollio thou the great defence Of sad, impleaded innocence ; On whom, to weigh the grand debate, In deep consult the fathers wait; For whom the triumphs o’er Dalmatia spread 5 Unfading honours round thy laurell’d head, Of warm commotions, wrathful jars, The growing seeds of civil wars; Of double fortune’s cruel games, The specious means, the private aims, 10 And fatal friendships of the guilty great, Alas! how fatal to the Roman state! % * Of mighty legions late subdued, And arms with Latian blood imbrued, * Pollio, since the year 715, lived in a private manner at Rome, and, in his retirement, had written several tragedies, which, in the judgment of Horace and Virgil, had equalled the stage of Rome to that of Athens. But a work better meriting his whole strength and attention was a history of the civil wars. It was already far advanced when the poet wrote this ode; and being apprehensive lest that applause which Pollio received from the stage might interrupt a history so interesting to the republic, he urges him in the strongest manner to continue it; yet tells him, at the same time, how delicate and dangerous a work he had undertaken. BOOK I\. -ODE I. 65 15 Yet unatoned (a labour vast! Doubtful the die, and dire the cast!) You treat adventurous, and incautious tread On fires, with faithless embers overspread: Retard a while thy glowing vein, Nor swell the solemn, tragic scene ; 20 And when thy sage, historic cares Have form’d the train of Rome’s affairs, With lofty rapture reinflamed, infuse Heroic thoughts, and wake the buskin’d muse. Hark ! the shrill clarion’s voice I hear; 25 Its threatening murmurs pierce mine ear; And in thy lines, with brazen breath, The trumpet sounds the charge of death; While the strong splendours of the sword affright The flying steed, and mar the rider’s sight! 30 Panting with terror, I survey The martial host in dread array; The chiefs, how valiant and how just! Defiled with not inglorious dust, And all the world in chains, but Cato, see 35 Of spirit unsubdued, and dying to be free. Imperial Juno, fraught with ire, And all the partial gods of Tyre, W 7 ho, feeble to revenge her cries, Retreated to their native skies, 40 Have in the victor’s bleeding race repaid Jugurtha’s ruin, and appeased his shade. 35 All the praises which this republican hero has received from different authors are not equal to this single character, that Caesar found it easier to subdue the whole world than the inflex ible spirit of Cato.— Bo?id. 66 HORACE. What plain, by mortals traversed o’er, Is not enrich’d with Roman gore ? Unnumber’d sepulchres record 45 The deathful harvest of the sword, And proud Hesperia, rushing into thrall, While distant Parthia heard the cumbrous fall. What gulf, what rapid river flows Unconscious of our wasteful woes] 50 What rolling sea’s unfathom’d tide Have not the Paunian slaughters died? What coast, encircled by the briny flood, Boasts not the shameful tribute of our blood ? But thou, my muse, to whom belong 55 The sportive jest, and jocund song, Beyond thy province cease to stray, Nor vain revive the plaintive lay: Seek humbler measures, indolently laid With me beneath some love-sequester’d shade. 60 43 The poet no longer confines himself to the quarrel between Caesar and Pompey, but exposes in general the melancholy ef¬ fects of the whole civil war. The images of these two strophes are very nobly spirited. Rivers and gulfs appear animated and enlivened; and Italy is represented as a vast body, the fall of which is heard to nations most distant.— San. Dac. ODE II.—TO CRISPUS SALLUSTIUS.* In this ode the proper use of riches is delineated, together with the happiness of the man who can subdue his passions. Gold hath no lustre of its own, It shines by temperate use alone, * Sallust was a courtier of a philosophical character. Con¬ tented with the rank in which he was born, like a faithful fol¬ lower of Epicurus he knew how to join an open, unbounded luxury to a laborious care of the public affairs ; and the poet, in setting forth the maxims of Epicurean philosophy, seems in¬ directly to applaud the person who could thus bound his desires, and enjoy with honour the considerable fortune his uncle had raised.— San. BOOK II.-ODE II. 67 And when on earth it hoarded lies, My Sallust can the mass despise. With never-failing wing shall fame 5 To latest ages bear the name Of Proculeius, who could prove A father, in a brother’s love. By virtue’s precepts to control The furious passions of the soul 10 Is over wider realms to reign, Unenvied monarch, than if Spain You could to distant Lybia join, And both the Cartilages were thine. The dropsy, by indulgence nursed, 15 Pursues us with increasing thirst, Till art expels the cause, and drains The wat’ry languor from our veins. But virtue can the crowd unteach Their false mistaken forms of speech; 20 Virtue, to crowds a foe profess’d, Disdains to number with the bless’d Phraates, by his slaves adored, And to the Parthian crown restored, But gives the diadem, the throne, 25 And laurel wreath to him alone, Who can a treasured mass of gold With firm, undazzled eye behold. 7 Proculeius had two brothers, Terentius and Licinius. Te- rentius was designed consul in the year seven hundred and thirty, but died before he could enter on his office. Licinius unfortunately engaged himself in a conspiracy against Augustus, nor could all the interest of his brother Proculeius and Maecenas, who had married their sister Terentia, preserve lnm from ban¬ ishment. An old commentator relates a particular story, which greatly enlightens this passage. He says that Proculeius divided his patrimony with his brothers, whose fortunes were ruined in the civil wars.— Dac. San. 18 The ancients frequently compared the covetous and am¬ bitious to persons afflicted with a dropsy. Water only irritates the thirst of the one, as honours and riches provoke the insatia¬ ble appetite of the other. Indeed great fortunes rather enlarge, than fill our desires.— Dac. 19 Philosophy, which is here called virtue, instructs us to 68 HORACE. ODE III.—'TO DELLIUS.* The poet here asserts that the happiness of life consists in serenity of mind and virtuous enjoyments. In adverse hours an equal mind maintain, Nor let your spirit rise too high, Though fortune kindly change the scene— Remember, Dellius, you were born to die. Whether your life in sorrows pass, 5 And sadly joyless glide away; Whether, reclining on the grass, You bless with choicer wine the festal day, Where the pale poplar and the pine Expel the sun’s intemperate beam ; 10 i reconcile our passions with reason and our pleasure with duty : but the crowd, in a false use of words, disguise the real nature of things by mistaken names. * Dellius was a true picture of inconstancy. After Caesar’s death he changed his party four times in the space of twelve years. The peace that succeeded the civil wars gave him an opportunity of establishing his affairs, which must naturally have been greatly disordered by so many changes. At this time Horace wrote this ode, in which he instructs him in the purest maxims of Epicurean philosophy. The soul and body, in the opinion of Epicurus, were two parts, composed of the same matter, which ought to unite in the harmony and agreement of their pleasures, for the happiness of man. Horace, therefore, after advising Dellius to possess his soul in tranquillity by the moderation of his passions, allows him to indulge his senses with innocent diversions. This is all that an Epicurean can reasonably say, according to his own principles.— San. 1 Virtue finds dangers and difficulties in all extremes of life. Prosperity exalteth us too high; adversity depresseth us too low. The last effort therefore of reason is to support us equally between presumption and despair; nor is any reflection more capable of producing this equality of soul than the thoughts of death, which shall one day put an end to all the changes of fortune. Such a reflection may furnish us with motives of patience in our affliction, and of moderation in our pleasures.— San. 9 The leaf of the poplar is white below, and of a deep green BOOK II.—ODE IV. 69 In hospitable shades their branches twine, And winds with toil, though swift, the tremulous stream. Here pour your wines, your odours shed, Bring forth the rose’s short-lived flower, While fate yet spins thy mortal thread, 15 While youth and fortune give th’ indulgent hour. Your purchased woods, your house of state, Your villa, wash’d by Tiber’s wave, You must, my Dellius, yield to fate, 19 And to your heir these high-piled treasures leave. W T hether you boast a monarch’s birth, While wealth unbounded round you flows, Or poor, and sprung from vulgar earth, No pity for his victim Pluto knows; We all must tread the paths of fate, 25 And ever shakes the mortal urn, Whose lot embarks us, soon or late, On Charon’s boat, ah! never to return. above. The mythologists give a pleasant reason for it. Her¬ cules having descended to hell, crowned with poplar, his sweat withered the leaves on one side, and the smoke blackened the other.— San. 26 As it was customary among the ancients to decide affairs of the utmost importance by lot, they feigned that the names of all mankind were written on billets, and thrown into an urn, which was perpetually in motion; and that they whose billets were first drawn should die first.— Dac. to • 1/ V ODE IV.—TO ‘XANTHIAS PHOCEUS.* From the example of many great men, Horace exhorts his friend to feel no shame at being in love with his maid. Let not my Phoceus think it shame For a fair slave to own his flame; * Horace, with an air of irony and pleasantry, encourages Phoceus to indulge his passion for his slave. 70 HORACE. A slave could stern Achilles move, Ahd bend his haughty soul to love: Ajax, invincible in arms, 5 Was captivedby his captive’s charms Atrides, mid his triumphs mourn’d, And for a ravish’d virgin burn’d, What time the fierce barbarian bands Fell by Pelides’ conquering hands, 10 And Troy (her Hector swept away) Became to Greece an easier prey. Who knows, when Phyllis is your bride, To what fine folk you’ll be allied 1 Her parents dear, of gentle race, 15 Shall not their son-in-law disgrace. She sprung from kings, or nothing less, And weeps the family’s distress. Think not, that such a charming she Can of the wretched vulgar be, 20 A maid, so faithful and so true To love, to honour, and to you. Her dear mamma, right virtuous dame, Could ne’er have known the blush of shame. While thus with innocence I praise, 25 Let me no jealous transports raise. Heart-hold and sound I laud her charms, Her face, her taper legs, her arms, For trembling on to forty years, My age forbids all jealous fears. 30 3 Dares Phrygius has left us the following picture of Briseis: “ Briseis was beautiful, tall, faircomplexioned ; her hair yellow and delicate : her eyebrows joined ; her eyes modestly sweet; and her whole person exactly proportioned. She was gentle, affable, modest, simple of manners, and pious.” He has also given a description of Cassandra : “ Cassandra was of middle stature; her mouth little and round; her complexion ruddy; her eyes sparkling.” BOOK II.-ODE V. 71 ODE V.* The person to whom this ode is inscribed is advised to recall his affection from a young girl, as yet unripe for his addresses. See, thy heifer’s yet unbroke To the labours of the yoke, Nor hath strength enough to prove Such impetuous weight of love. Round the fields her fancy strays, 5 O’er the mead she sportive plays, Now beneath the sultry beam Cools her in the passing stream, Now with frisking steerlings young Sports the sallow groves among. 10 Do not then commit a rape On the crude unmellow’d grape: Autumn soon, of various dies, Shall with kinder warmth arise, Bid the livid clusters glow, 15 And a riper purple show. Time to her shall count each day, Wlych from you it takes away, Till with bold and forward charms, She shall rush into your arms, 20 * Pholoe, the flying fair, Shall not then with her compare; Nor the maid of bosom bright, Like the moon’s unspotted light, * The twenty-second ode of the first book of Fuscus Aristius commends the beauties of Lalage; and if we believe with Mr. Dacier that this is the same Lalage, it will be a proof that the odes of Horace, in general, are not ranged in that order in which they were written. She is here represented as too young for marriage, and her lover is advised to wait until he may with more decency pay his addresses to her. 72 HORACE O’er the waves, with silver rays, 25 When its floating lustre plays; Nor the Cnidian, fair and young, Who, the virgin choir among, Might deceive, in female guise, Strangers, though extremely wise, 30 With the difference between Sexes hardly to be seen, And his hair of flowing grace, And his boyish, girlish face. ODE VI.—TO SEPTIMIUS. Horace invites Septimius to reside in the country with him. Septimius, who hast vow’d to go W'ith Horace e’en to farthest Spain, Or see the fierce Cantabrian foe, Untaught to bear the Roman chain, Or the barbaric syrts, with mad recoil 5 Where Mauritanian billows ceaseless boil: May Tibur to my latest hours Afford a kind and calm retreat; Tibur, beneath whose lofty towers The Grecians fix’d their blissful seat; 10 There may my labours end, my wanderings cease, There all my toils of warfare rest in peace. 1 Septimius, according to the old scholiast, was a Roman knight. He attended Tiberius in his eastern expedition in 731, and we may believe he was well esteemed by Augustus, since he is mentioned with regard by him in a letter to Horace .—San 7 The poet says in general, that whether he should be obliged to travel by sea or land, or to bear arms again, he wishes that Tibur may be the retreat of his old age. He had not only served under Brutus, but attended Maecenas to the second congress at Brundusium, and through all the war of Sicily. These violent motions were by no means agreeable to his humour and com¬ plexion. He was a poet, a philosopher, and of a constitution too delicate to bear such fatigues.— San. BOOK II.—ODE VI. 73 But should the partial Fates refuse That purer air to let me breathe, Galesus, thy sweet stream I’ll choose, 15 Where flocks of richest fleeces bathe: Phalantus there his rural sceptre sway’d, Uncertain offspring of a Spartan maid. No spot so joyous smiles to me Of this wide globe’s extended shores; 20 Where nor the labours of the bee Yield to Hymettus’ golden stores, Nor the green berry of Venafran soil Swells with a riper flood of fragrant oil. There Jove his kindest gifts bestows, 25 There joys to crown the fertile plains, With genial warmth the winter glows, And spring with lengthen’d honours reigns, Nor Aulon, friendly to the clustering vine, Envies the vintage of Falernian wine. 30 That happy place, that sweet retreat, The charming hills that round it rise, Your latest hours and mine await; And when at length your Horace dies, There the deep sigh thy poet-friend shall mourn, 35 And pious tears bedew his glowing urn. 16 The sheep of Tarentum and Attica had a wool so fine, that they were covered with skins to preserve it from the inclemency of the weather. Pliny says, these covertures were brought from Arabia.— Cruq. 29 It is probable that Aulon was a little hill, near Tarentum, famous for its vines. It is mentioned by Martial as equally re¬ markable for its wool. Famed for its wool, and happy in its vines, Yours be its fleeces, and be mine its wines. 36 The poet here requires the last office of friendship from Septimius, that he would sprinkle his ashes with a tear ; and the more strongly to mark his friendship, says that he shall per form this last pious office before his ashes shall be cold; while- they shall be yet glowing from the funeral pile.— Dae . Hor. Vgl. I.—G 74 HORACE, ODE VII.—TO POMPEIUS VARUSA Our poet congratulates his friend on being restored to him and his country. Varus, from early youth beloved, And oft with me in danger proved, Our daring host when Brutus led, And in the cause of freedom bled, To Rome and all her guardian powers 5 What happy chance the friend restores, With whom I’ve cheer’d the tedious day, And drunk its loitering hours away, Profuse of sweets while Syria shed Her liquid odours on my head! 10 With thee I saw Philippi’s plain, In fatal rout, a fearful scene ! And dropp’d, alas! th’ inglorious shield, Where valour’s self was forced to yield, * When a peace was concluded, in the year 715, between Sextus Pompeius and the triumvirate, a general amnesty was granted to all who had followed the party of Pompey. This seemed to Varus a favourable occasion of quitting the profession of arms, and returning to Rome, when probably this ode was written. Horace was then twenty six years of age.— Masson. 3 Brutus took with him from Athens, eight or nine months after Caesar’s death, a number of young gentlemen, who were willing to follow his fortunes in the cause of liberty. Our poet then began his warfare. He continued two years under the command of that great man, and we may believe with some merit, since he was raised to the tribuneship of a legion. 9 The use of crowns and essences were first introduced into the Roman entertainments by the ladies.— Dac. 13 There is something ingenuous in the poet’s recording this instance of his own cowardice, which possibly might never have been known to posterity. Archilochus, Alcaeus, and Demos¬ thenes, are examples of the same ingenuity of spirit. Next to true courage, says a French commander, nothing is more brave than a confession of cowardice.— San. 14 The poet, by doing justice to the vanquished, pays the BOOK II.-ODE VII. 75 Where soil’d in dust the vanquish’d lay, 15 And breath’d th’ indignant soul away. But me, when dying with my fear, Through warring hosts, inwrappM in air, Swift did the god of wit convey ; While thee, wild war’s tempestuous sea, 20 In ebbing tides, drove far from shore, And to new scenes of slaughter bore. To Jove thy votive offerings paid, Beneath my laurel’s sheltering shade, Fatigued with war, now rest reclined, 25 Nor spare the casks for thee design’d. Here joyous fill the polish’d bowl, With wine oblivious cheer thy soul, And from the breathing vials pour Of essenced sweets a larger shower. 30 But who the wreath unfading weaves Of parsley, or of myrtle leaves ! To whom shall beauty’s queen assign To reign the monarch of our wine 1 For Thracian-like I’ll drink to-day, 35 And deeply Bacchus it away. Our transports for a friend restored, Should e’en to madness shake the board. highest c<5Ynpliment to their conquerors; and in reality the better troops were on the side of Brutus and Cassius, although fortune declared for Octavius and Antony.— Dac. 34 The Romans in their entertainments usually appointed a person, whom they called king, with a power to regulate the feast and govern the guests. His office was decided by the best cast on the dice ) 76 HORACE. ODE VIII.—TO BARINE.* Horace denies that the oath of Barine should induce him to believe her; for the gods never punished the perjuries of beauties. If e’er th’ insulted powers had shed Their vengeance on thy perjured head; ( If they had mark’d thy faithless truth With one foul nail, or blacken’d tooth, Again thy falsehood might deceive, 5 And I the faithless vow believe, But when, perfidious, you engage To meet high heaven’s vindictive rage, You rise, with heighten’d lustre fair, Of all our youth the public care. 10 It thrives with thee to be forsworn By thy dead mother’s hallow’d urn : By heaven, and all the stars that roll In silent circuit round the pole; By heaven, and every nightly sign, 15 By every deathless power divine. Yes; Venus laughs, the nymphs with smiles, The simple nymphs! behold thy wiles, And with the blood of some poor swain, By thy perfidious beauty slain, 20 Fierce Cupid whets his burning darts, For thee to wound new lovers’ hearts. Thy train of slaves grows every day, Infants are rising to thy sway, * The gallantry of this ode is of a very particular kind. The •poet pays such compliments to Barine’s beauty as are almost worth a woman’s perjury to deserve ; especially when every anew instance of deceiving gives a new charm. 4 The ancients believed that a lie was always attended with .some immediate punishment,—the loss of a tooth, a blister on the (tongue, Ac. BOOK II.-ODE IX. 77 And they, who swore to break thy chain, 25 Yet haunt those impious doors again. Thee for their boys the mothers fear, The frugal father for his heir, And weeping stands the virgin bride, In Hymen’s fetters lately tied, 30 Lest you detain, with brighter charms, Her perjured husband from her arms. ODE IX.—TO VALGIUS.* Horace comforts his friend for the loss of his son. Nor everlasting rain deforms The squalid fields, nor endless storms, Inconstant, vex the Caspian main, Nor on Armenia’s frozen plain The loit’ring snow unmelting lies, 5 Nor loud when northern winds arise, The labouring forests bend the head, Nor yet their leafy honours shed: Yet still in elegiac strains My Valgius for his son complains, 10 * To know how to comfort the afflicted is a talent which few people possess, while every one is willing to make trial of his skill. But indeed it were better in losses that are without remedy to talk to the heart than the understanding; for motives of consolation, which are most natural and obvious, are fre¬ quently more successful than the gravest maxims of morality, and the most curious refinements of reason. Such is the method of Horace in comforting a father afflicted for the death of a son whom he tenderly loved. He does not condemn his grief, but proposes to him to stop the continuance of it, or at least to suspend its course. It is not difficult to ascertain the date of this ode. The two last strophes show that it was writ¬ ten in 734, the year after Augustus’s Armenian expedition.— San. 4 Armenia is surrounded with mountains continually covered with snow. The nature of the soil which is impregnated with salt, contributes to the coldness of the climate, nor is it un¬ common to see frost and snow there in the month of June.— San. 78 HORACE. When Vesper lifts his ev’ning ray. Or flies the rapid beam of day. Not for his son the Grecian sage, Renown’d for thrice the mortal age: Not for their youthful brother dead 15 Such sorrows Priam’s daughters shed. At length these weak complaints give o’er, Indulge th’ unmanly grief no more, But let us bolder sweep the string, And Caesar’s new-raised trophies sing; 20 The Tigris, and its freezing flood, Euphrates, with its realms, subdued; Whose waves are taught with humbler pride Smoother to roll their lessening tide: The Scythians, who reluctant yield, 25 Nor pour their squadrons o’er the field. ODE X.—TO LICINIUS MURENA.* The poet advises Licinius to moderate his desires, and to main¬ tain an evenness of temper. Licinius, would you live with ease, Tempt not too far the faithless seas, And when you hear the tempest roar, Press not too near the unequal shore. * Licinius was a young man of an ardent, restless, and am- ibitious spirit. He had ruined his fortune in the civil wars, when his brother Proculeius, with an uncommon generosity, divided his patrimony with him and Terentius. But a state of depen •dance and mediocrity was by no means suited to his humour, and having engaged himself in a conspiracy against Augustus, he was banished, and afterward put to death, notwithstanding all the interest of Proculeius and Maecenas, who had married his sister Terentia. Horace, who knew his temper, lays down some general rules for his conduct, but without any application which could either disoblige or injure him. The sentiments of this ode are entirely moral, but enlivened by different metaphors and animated by different comparisons ; for if morality be not treated with art and spirit, it will disgust by its dryness, or grow •tedious by its length.— .San. BOOK II.—ODE XI. 79 The man, within the golden mean, 5 Who can his boldest wish contain, Securely views the ruin’d cell, Where sordid want, and sorrow dwell, And in himself serenely great, Declines an envied room of state. 10 When high in air the pine ascends, To every ruder blast it bends. The palace falls with heavier weight, When tumbling from its airy height; And when from heaven the lightning flies, 15 It blasts the hills that proudest rise. Whoe’er enjoys th’ untroubled breast, With virtue’s tranquil wisdom bless’d, With hope the gloomy hour can cheer, And temper happiness with fear. 20 If Jove the winter’s horrors bring, Yet Jove restores the genial spring. Then let us not of fate complain, For soon shall change the gloomy scene. Apollo sometimes can inspire 25 The silent muse, and wake the lyre : The deathful bow not always plies, Th’ unerring dart not always flies. When fortune, various goddess, lowers, Collect your strength, exert your powers ; 30 But when she breathes a kinder gale, Be wise, and furl your swelling sail. ODE XI.—TO QUINTIUS HIRPINUS.* Hobace endeavours to divert the mind of Quintius to a taste for gayety and enjoyment. Be not anxious, friend, to know What our fierce Cantabrian foe, * The design of this ode is well supported. The opening is serious, but the scene grows lively by degrees, and the two ac¬ tors at the end are seated in a rural arbour near a river’s side, ■calling for wine and music.— San. \ 80 HORACE. What intends the Scythian’s pride, Far from us whom seas divide. Tremble not with vain desires, 5 Few the things which life requires. Youth with rapid swiftness flies, Beauty’s lustre quickly dies, Wither’d age drives far away Gentle sleep, and amorous play. 10 W 7 hen in vernal bloom they glow, * Flowers their gayest honours show. Nor the moon with equal grace Always lifts her ruddy face. Thus while nature’s works decay, 15 Busy mortal, prithee say, Why do you fatigue the mind, Not for endless schemes design’d? Thus beneath this lofty shade, Thus in careless freedom laid, 20 While Assyrian essence sheds Liquid fragrance on our heads, While we lie with roses crown’d, Let the cheerful bowl go round : Bacchus can our cares control, 25 Cares that prey upon the soul. Who shall from the passing stream Quench our wine’s Falernian flame ? Who the vagrant wanton bring, Mistress of the lyric string, 30 With her flowing tresses tied, Loosely, like a Spartan bride 1 11 Nothing is less durable than flowers in spring; nothing more changeable than the moon ; yet these are the best images of human life. Why then should creatures, by nature formed to mortality, fatigue themselves with endless and uncertain projects ? From these grand principles a cheerful enjoyment of the present hour is a conclusion not unworthy of an Epicurean moralist.— Torr. an. r 81 BOOK II.-ODE XII. ODE XII.—TO MAECENAS. Horace acknowledges that he was so given up to Licymnia that he was unable to rise to more serious subjects. Numantia’s wars, for years maintain’d, Or Hannibal’s vindictive ire, Or seas with Punic gore distain’d, Suit not the softness of my feeble lyre; Nor savage centaurs, mad with wine, 5 Nor earth’s gigantic rebel brood, Who shook old Saturn’s seat divine, Till by the arm of Hercules subdued. You in historic prose shall tell The mighty power of Caesar’s war; 10 How kings beneath his battle fell, Or dragg’d indignant his triumphal car. Licymnia’s dulcet voice, her eye, Bright-darting its resplendent ray, Her breast, where love and friendship lie, 15 The muse commands me sing in softer lay; In raillery the sportive jest, Graceful her mien in dancing charms, When playful at Diana’s feast To the bright virgin choir she winds her arms. 20 Say, shall the wealth by kings possess’d, Or the rich diadems they wear, Or all the treasures of the East, Purchase one lock of my Licymnia’s hair! 4 The poet does not mean, as some commentators understand ■him, that grave or tragic subjects do not agree with lyric po¬ etry. This assertion would be absolutely false, and the odes of Pindar and Horace are a proof of the contrary. He only says that his own lyre has no other sounds but what are proper for love, and refuses all subjects of grandeur and sublimity. 82 HORACE. While now her bending neck she plies 25 Backward to meet the burning kiss, Then with an easy cruelty denies, Yet wishes you would snatch, not ask the bliss. ODE XIII.* Execrations on a tree, by the fall of which our poet had been nearly crushed. Whoever raised and planted thee, Unlucky and pernicious tree, In hour accursed with impious hand, (Thou bane and scandal of my land,) Well may I think the parricide 5 In blood his guilty soud had died, Or plunged his dagger in the breast, At midnight, of his sleeping guest, Or temper’d every baleful juice, Which poisonous Colchian glebes produce, Or if a blacker crime be known, 11 That crime the wretch had made his own, Who on my harmless grounds and me Bestow’d thee, luckless falling tree. While dangers hourly round us wait, 15 No caution can prevent our fate. All other deaths the sailor dares, Who yet the raging ocean fears; The Parthian views with deep dismay The Roman chains, and firm array ; 20 The Roman dreads the Parthian’s speed, His flying war, and backward reed ; * It may be worth observing that there is no subject, however trivial or inconsiderable, which poetry cannot raise into gran¬ deur and dignity. The fall of a tree might have alarmed a writer of prose, who would coldly have described his danger ; but the terrors of a poetical imagination have transported Horace to the very regions of death, where he sings the power of music and poetry. BOOK II.-ODE XIV. 83 While death, unheeded, sweeps away The world, his everlasting prey. How near was I those dreary plains, 25 Where Pluto’s auburn consort reigns; Where awful sits the judge of hell; Where pious spirits blissful dwell; Where Sappho’s sweet complaints reprove The rivals of her fame and love, 30 Alcaeus bolder sweeps the strings, And seas, and war, and exile sings. Thus while they strike the various lyre, The ghosts the sacred sounds admire ; But when Alcaeus tunes the strain 35 To deeds of war, and tyrants slain, In thicker crowds the shadowy throng Drink deeper down the martial song. W'hat wonder 1 when with bending ears The dog of hell astonish’d hears, 40 And in the furies’ hair entwined, The snakes with cheerful horror wind, While charm’d by the melodious strains, The tortured ghosts forget their pains, Orion quits his bold delight 45 To chase the lion’s rage, or lynx’s flight. 31 Alcaeus was contemporary, countryman, and friend of N Sappho. His style was close, magnificent, and chaste. He is ■frequently like to Homer, but he descends into sports and love, although naturally formed to more exalted subjects. 45 Orion, who had loved hunting when he lived, is here de¬ scribed pursuing the same sport when he died. The ancients be¬ lieved that the ghosts of the departed retained the same pas¬ sions as those with which they were animated on earth. ODE XIV.—TO POSTUMUS. Reflections on the shortness of life and certainty of death. How swiftly glide our flying years! Alas! nor piety, nor tears 84 HORACE. Can stop the fleeting day; Deep-furrow’d wrinkles, posting age, And death’s unconquerable rage, 5 Are strangers to delay. Though every day a bull should bleed To Pluto, bootless were the deed, The monarch tearless reigns, Where vulture-tortured Tityus lies, 10 And triple Geryon’s monstrous size The gloomy wave detains. Whoever tastes of earthly food Is doomed to pass the joyless flood. And hear the Stygian roar; 15 The scepter’d king, who rules the earth, The labouring hind, of humbler birth, Must reach the distant shore. % » The broken surge of Adria’s main. Hoarse sounding we avoid in vain, 20 And Mars in blood-stain’d arms ; The southern blast in vain we fear. And autumn’s life-annoying air W T ith idle fears alarms ; For all must see Cocytus flow, 25 Whose gloomy water sadly slow Strays through the dreary soil. The guilty maids, an ill-famed train 1 And, Sisyphus, thy labours vain, Condemn’d to endless toil. 30 Your pleasing consort must be left. And you of villas, lands bereft. Must to the shades descend; The cypress only, hated tree! Of all thy much-loved groves, shall thee, 35 Its short-lived lord attend- BOOK II.-ODE XV. 85 Then shall your worthier heir discharge, And set th’ imprison’d casks at large, And die the floor with wine, So rich and precious, not the feasts 40 Of holy pontiffs cheer their guests With liquor more divine. ODE XV.* In this ode Horace opposes the ancient frugality to the modern luxury. In royal pride our buildings rise; The useless plough neglected lies ; Ponds, broad as lakes, our fields o’erspread; Th’ unmarried plane high waves the head Above the elm ; while all around, 5 Wafting their fragrance o’er the ground, Where once the olive pour’d its shade, And its rich master’s cares repaid ; The violet and myrtle greets The senses with a waste of sweets; 10 While vainly would Apollo’s ray Through our thick laurels pour the day. Not such were Cato’s sage decrees, Nor Romulus by arts like these * The poet in this ode opposes the magnificence and expense of the present Romans, in their buildings, plantations, and gar¬ dens, to the simplicity and frugality of their ancestors, by whom the public edifices and temples of the gods were thought the noblest monuments of true grandeur, as well as of piety. The wealth brought into Rome by ravaging and plundering the world was employed, with a wantonness almost incredible, in the last excesses of extravagance and luxury. These ex¬ cesses vitiated the minds, corrupted the understanding, and broke the resolution of a people, not less glorious for their spirit of liberty, than for their conquest of the world. Thus, at length, they were debased to a violence of slavery unknown to the nations whom they had conquered, and infamous to all pos¬ terity. 13 Valerius Maximus has given us this glorious character of Hor. Vol. I.—H 86 HORACE. In wisdom form’d th’ imperial sway, 15 And bid th’ unwilling world obey. Though small each personal estate, The public revenues were great; Arcades were then by law confined, Nor open’d to the northern wind : 20 Or turf, or brick, where fortune pleased, The private dwelling humbly raised; While awful to the powers divine Rose high to heaven the sacred shrine, And all the public structures shone, 25 Enrich’d with ornamental stone. ODE XVI.—TO POMPEIUS GROSPHUS.* The poet describes happiness as consisting in bridling our affections. Caught in the wild iEgean seas, The sailor bends to heaven for ease; While clouds the moon’s fair lustre hide, And not a star his course to guide. Furious in war the Thracian prays, 5 The quiver’d Mede, for ease, for ease, the ancient Romans, that every one was earnest to increase the wealth of his country, not his own private fortune, and chose rather to be poor in a rich state, than to be rich when the com¬ monwealth was popr. “ They aimed,” says Cicero, “at the praises of frugality in their domestic affairs, and of dignity in all that concerned the public.” * When Horace draws the morals of Epicurus at their source, it must be confessed that human wisdom never produced any system more reasonable. The pleasure of that philosopher, a pleasure abused by libertinism, and condemned by ignorance, consisted in a tranquillity of mind, resulting from the practice of virtue. From this principle are derived all those beautifhl maxims which our poet has dispersed through his whole works, and which appear particularly in this ode, where he gives such counsel to his friend as seems to be dictated by reason itself. BOOK II.-ODE XVI. A blessing never to be sold For gems, for purple, or for gold. Nor can the consul’s power control The sickly tumults of the soul; Or bid the cares to stand aloof That hover round the vaulted roof. Happy the man, whose frugal board His father’s plenty can afford ; His gentle sleep nor anxious fear Shall drive away, nor sordid care. Why do we aim with eager strife At things beyond the mark of life 1 To climates warm’d by other suns In vain the wretched exile runs; Flies from his country’s native skies, But never from himself he flies; Corroding cares incessant charge His flight, and climb his armed barge ; Or though he mount the rapid steed, Care follows with unerring speed, Far fleeter than the timorous hind; Far fleeter than the driving wind. The spirit, that, serenely gay, Careless enjoys the present day, Can with an easy, cheerful smile, The bitterness of life beguile ; Nor fears the approaching hour of fate, Nor hopes for human bliss complete. Achilles perish’d in his prime ; Tithon was worn away by time ; And fate, with lavish hand, to me May grant what it denies to thee. A hundred bleating flocks are thine ; Around thee graze thy lowing kine ; Neighing, thy mares invite the reins; Thy robes the twice-died purple stains On me, not unindulgent fate . Bestow’d a rural, calm retreat, 88 HORACE. Where I may tune the Roman lyre, 45 And warm the song with Grecian fire; Then scorn, in conscious virtue proud, The worthless malice of the crowd. ODE XVII.—TO MAECENAS.* Horace comforts Maecenas labouring under a fever, and denies that he can possibly survive him. Why will Maecenas thus complain 1 Why kill me with the tender strain 1 Nor can the gods, nor I consent That you, my life’s great ornament, Should sink untimely to the tomb, 5 While I survive the fatal doom. Should you, alas! be snatch’d away, Wherefore, ah! wherefore should I stay, My value lost, no longer whole, And but possessing half my soul 1 10 One day (believe the sacred oath) Shall lead the funeral pomp of both: With thee to Pluto’s dark abode ; With thee I’ll tread the dreary road. Nor fell Chimaera’s breath of fire, 15 Nor hundred-handed Gyas dire, Shall ever tear my friend from me; So justice and the fates decree. * Maecenas, as we are informed by Pliny, laboured from his infancy under a perpetual fever, which must necessarily have changed the natural gayety of his temper, especially towards the latter end of his life. It is probable that he frequently, and with some impatience, lamented to his favourite poet his ap¬ proaching death. Horace, justly sensible to his complainings, in this ode entreats him to talk no more in such affecting lan¬ guage ; he tells him, that he is determined not to survive him, and proves it to be impossible by the conformity of their des¬ tinies, particularly those accidents by which their lives had been endangered; from whence he proposes that they should per¬ form their sacrifices in gratitude to the gods, who had preserved them.—San. BOOK II.-ODE XVIII. 89 Whether fair Libra’s kinder sign, Or Scorpius with an eye malign 20 Beheld my birth, (whose gloomy power, Rules dreadful o’er the natal hour,) Or Capricorn, with angry rays, Who shines the tyrant of the seas; With equal beams our stars unite, 25 And strangely shed their mingled light. Thee, Jove’s bright influence snatch’d away From baleful Saturn’s impious ray, And stopp’d the rapid wings of fate When the full theatre, elate, 30 With joyful transports hail’d thy name, And thrice uprais’d the loud acclaim. A tree, when falling on my head. Had surely crush’d me to the dead; But Pan, the poet’s guardian, broke 35 With saving hand the destined stroke. For thee, let the rich victim’s blood Pour forth to Jove its purple flood; For thee, the votive temple rise ; For me, an humble lambkin dies. 40 ODE XVIII. Horace inveighs against Roman luxury and covetousness. | S No walls, with ivory inlaid, Adorn my house; no colonnade Proudly supports my citron beams, Nor rich with gold my ceiling flames ; Nor have I, like an heir unknown, 5 Seized upon Attalus’s throne ; Nor dames, to happier fortunes bred, Draw down for me the purple thread Yet with a firm and honest heart, Unknowing or of fraud or art, 10 A liberal vein of genius bless’d, I’m by the rich and great caress’d. H 2 90 HORACE. My patron’s gift, my Sabine field, Shall all its rural plenty yield ; And happy in that rural store, 15 Of Heaven and him I ask no more. Day presses on the heels of day, And moons increase to their decay; But you, with thoughtless pride elate, Unconscious of impending fate, 20 Command the pillar’d dome to rise, When, lo! thy tomb forgotten lies; And, though the waves indignant roa Forward you urge the Baian shore ; While earth’s too narrow bounds in vain 25 Your guilty progress would restrain. The sacred landmark strives in vain Your impious avarice to restrain : You break into your neighbour’s grounds, And overleap your client’s bounds. 30 Driven out by thee, to new abodes They carry their paternal gods: The wife her husband’s sorrow shares, And on her breast her squalid infants bears. Yet destined by unerring fate, 35 Shall death this wealthy lord aw r ait: Then whither tend thy wide domains ? For Barth impartial entertains Her various sons, and in her breast Princes and beggars equal rest. 40 Nor gold could bribe, nor art deceive The gloomy life-guard of the grave, 17 T»i« poet begins here, although the transition and connec¬ tion be not very strongly rntirked, directly to attack the man¬ ners of Inn age, and unites in the same subject both their ava¬ rice and prodigality ; for these two passions, however opposite they may maun, are, frequently found in the same character.— Natuulon. 3ft The poet opposes to the rapine of this invader the total ruin which death shall cause, in leaving him no more than he leaves to them he has plundered. 41 1 he poet, by allusion to some lahlo of Prometheus no' BOOK II.-ODE XIX. 91 Backward to tread the shadowy way, And waft Prometheus into day. Yet he, who Tantalus detains, 45 With all his haughty race in chains, Invoked or not, the wretch receives, And from the toils of life relieves. ODE XIX.—TO BACCHUS.* The poet celebrates the praises of Bacchus, being filled and animated by his divinity. I saw (let future times believe) The god of wine his lectures give; Mid rocks far distant was the scene: With ears erect the satyrs stood, And every goddess of the wood 5 Listen’d th’ instructive solemn strain. The recent terror heaves my breast; Yet with th’ inspiring power possess’d, Tumultuous joys my soul have warm’d : Dreadful, who shak’st the ivy spear, 10 Thy votary thus prostrate hear, And be thy rage, thy rage disarm’d. longer known, insinuates to this avaricious lord how useless the wealth, which he had purchased by violence and rapine, shall prove after death; for death to the poor is the beginning of their repose; to the rich an end of their pleasures.— San. * This ode probably was written for some festival of Bacchus, and the poet with a kind of bacchanalian enthusiasm has im¬ pressed the marks of his divinity on all parts of this vast uni¬ verse. Earth, sea, hell, and heaven have felt the effects of his power.— San. 1 This beginning is truly sublime. It is a picture capable of alarming and filling the imagination by a natural mixture of the rural and majestic. The scene is happily chosen, for the mys¬ teries of gods ought to be performed in places distant from the commerce of profane mortals.— San. 12 The poet imagines that he beholds Bacchus raising his ivy 92 HORACE. Give me to sing, by thee inspired, Thy priestesses to madness fired : Fountains of wine shall pour along, 15 And, melting from the hollow tree, The golden treasures of the bee, And streams of milk shall fill the song. Fair Ariadne’s crown shall rise, And add new glories to the skies; 20 While I to listening nations ’tell How impious Pentheus’ palace burn’d, With hideous ruin overturn’d, And how the mad Lycurgus fell. Indus and Ganges own thy sway, 25 Barbaric seas thy power obey, And o’er the pathless mountain’s height, (Her head with horrid snakes enroll’d, Which harmless writhe their angry fold,) Thy raptured priestess speeds her flight. 30 When rising fierce in impious arms, The giant race with dire alarms Assail’d the sacred realms of light, With lion wrath, and dreadful paw, With blood-besmear’d and foaming jaw, 35 You put their horrid chief to flight. For dancing form’d, for love and wit, You seem’d for war’s rude toils unfit, And polish’d to each softer grace : But dreadful when in arms you shone, 40 You made the fatal art your own, In war excelling as in peace. spear to strike him for daring to reveal his awful mysteries with¬ out his permission. He asks pardon for his temerity, and calms the anger of the god by the most artful praises. The ode is di¬ vided into three parts : the first, includes the benefits which the god has bestowed on humankind; the second shows some in¬ stances of his vengeance ; and the third describes his exploits. BOOK II.-ODE XX. 93 With golden horn supremely bright You darted round the bending light, Far beaming through the gloom of hell: 45 When Cerberus, with fear amazed, Forgot his rage, and fawning gazed, And at thy feet adoring fell. % ODE XX.—TO MAECENAS. Horace promises himself eternal fame from his verses. With strong unwonted wing, I rise, Atwo-form’d poet, through the skies. Far above envy will I soar, And tread this worthless earth no more : For lenow, ye rivals of my fame, 5 Though lowly born, a vulgar name I will not condescend to die, Nor in the Stygian waters lie. A rougher skin now clothes my thighs, Into a swan’s fair form 1 rise, 10 And feel the feather’d plumage shed Its down, and o’er my shoulders spread. Swift as with Daedalean wing, Harmonious bird, I’ll soaring sing, And in my flight the foamy shores 15 Where Bosphorus tremendous roars, The regions bound by northern cold, And Libya’s burning sands behold. Then to the learned sons of Spain ; To him, who ploughs the Scythian main ; 20 1 A poet without wings, is a poet without genius. This un¬ usual flight of Horace alludes to his imitation of the Grecian lyric writers, and the next line represents him in the beginning of this metamorphosis, half man and half bird .—San 19 In the time of Augustus learning and the sciences flour¬ ished in Spain, whither they were carried from Asia, and where the Roman colonies contributed greatly to their encourage¬ ment.— Dac. 94 HORACE To him, who with dissembled fears, Conscious, the Roman arms reveres; To him, who drinks the rapid Rhone, Shall Horace, deathless bard ! be known. My friends, the funeral sorrow spare, The plaintive song, and tender tear; Nor let the song of grief profane With loud laments the solemn scene; Nor o’er your poet’s empty urn With useless, idle sorrows mourn. 25 30 BOOK III. ODE I * Horace asserts that happiness consists neither in honours nor riches. Monarchs on earth their power extend; Monarchs to Jove submissive bend, And own the sovereign god ; With glorious triumph who subdued The Titan race, gigantic brood ! 5 And shakes whole nature with his nod. When rival candidates contend, And to the Field of Mars descend To urge th’ ambitious claim, * Horace in this and the next book shows forth all his poet¬ ical abilities. Poetry itself appears in its native original char¬ acter, employed in celebrating the power of the gods, and the praises of men; in supporting the sacred truths of religion, and encouraging the practice of moral virtue. In this ode the )oet asserts the sovereignty of Jupiter, and descending from lim, on whom they all depend, through the various degrees of ife, he teaches us that true happiness can only be found in a contented and frugal enjoyment of the blessings we possess. 7 Horace here descends to the conditions of life which are most exalted next to that of kings. Among the Romans there was nothing above their first magistracies ; and the poet makes a short and just enumeration of the qualities which ought to be considered in the candidates. Virtue alone should decide in all elections; but riches, popularity, and birth, in all ages and countries, too frequently corrupt the suffrages.— San. Dac. 8 The Field of Mars, where the popular assemblies were held for elections, was in the lowest ground of Rome. 96 HORACE. * > Some of illustrious birth are proud, 10 Some of their clients’ vassal crowd, And some of virtue’s fame. Others the rural labour love, And joy to plant the spreading grove, The furrow’d glebe to turn; 15 Yet with impartial hand shall fate Both of the lowly and the great Shake the capacious urn. Behold the wretch, with conscious dread, In pointed vengeance o’er his head 20 Who views th’ impending sword; Nor dainties force his pall’d desire, Nor chant of birds, nor vocal lyre To him can sleep afford; Heart-soothing sleep, which not disdains 25 The rural cot, and humble swains, And shady river fair; Or Tempe’s ever-blooming spring, Where zephyrs wave the balmy wing, And fan the buxom air. 30 Who nature’s frugal dictates hears, He nor the raging ocean fears, Nor stars of power malign, Whether in gloomy storms they rise, Or swift descending through the skies, 35 With angry lustre shine ; Whether his vines be smit with hail; Whether his promised harvests fail, 19 The commentators understand these words of Damocles, yet, as he is charged with no other crime than that of praising the happiness of Dionysius, they seem more justly to be ap¬ plied to the tyrant himself, whom Horace considers in the same danger to which Damocles was exposed, and under whose per¬ son he describes the dangerous and wretched situation of all tyrants, amid their pomp and appearances of happiness.— Dac. BOOK III.-ODE I. 97 Perfidious to his toil; Whether his drooping- trees complain 40 Of angry winter’s chilling rain, Or stars that burn the soil. Not such the haughty lord, who lays His deep foundations in the seas, And scorns earth’s narrow bound : 45 The fish, affrighted, feel their waves Contracted by his numerous slaves, Ev’n in the vast profound. High though his structures rise in air, Pale menaces, and black despair, 50 This haughty lord shall find O’ertake his armed galley’s speed, And when he mounts the flying steed Sits gloomy care behind. If purple, which the morn outshines, 55 Or marble from the Phrygian mines, Though labour’d high with art; If essence, breathing sweets divine, Or flowing bowls of generous wine, Ill sooth an anxious heart, 60 On columns raised in modern style, Why should I plan the lofty pile To rise with envied state 1 Why, for a vain superfluous store, Which would encumber me the more, 65 Resign my Sabine seat ? i ^ i Hor. Vol. I.—I 98 HORACE. ODE II.—TO HIS FRIENDS.* The poet here extols military bravery, probity, and fidelity in keeping a secret. Our hardy youth should learn to bear Sharp want, to rein the warlike steed, To hurl the well-directed spear With pointed force, and bid the Parthian bleed. A Thus form’d in war’s tumultuous trade 5 Through summer’s heat, and winter’s cold, Some tyrant’s queen, or blooming maid, Shall from her walls the martial youth behold, “ Let not, alas! my royal spouse, Untaught the deathful sword to wield, 10 That lion, in his anger rouse, Whom furious rage drives through th’ ensanguined field.” i * The design of Horace in this ode is to recommend forti¬ tude in bearing the distresses of war; virtue in the pursuit of the honours of peace ; and silence in preserving the mysteries of religion. Thus the ode is composed of three parts, regu¬ larly and naturally connected. We may believe, by the fourth line, that it was written before the conquest of Parthia, but in what particular year is uncertain.— Dac. 2 The poet is not contented with saying that youth should be taught to suffer want, but strengthens it with an epithet, “severe want.” Such was the discipline of the Romans by which they subdued the world ; but we follow other maxims, for luxury and good cheer dwell in the camps of our soldiery. 8 This description is perfectly beautiful, and finely imagined to animate a young warrior to bear the fatigues of his profes¬ sion. His rising valour could not appear in a nobler theatre. It is probable that the tyrant here mentioned was the Parthian king, whose daughter was betrothed to some prince of that country ; and the image seems to have been taken from the passage of Homer, where Helen and the Trojan dames appear on the walls, and view the Grecian camp.— Dac. San. BOOK III.-ODE II. 99 What joys, what glories round him wait Who bravely for his country dies, While with dishonest wounds shall fate 15 Relentless stab the coward as he flies ! With stainless lustre virtue shines, A base repulse, nor knows, nor fears ; Nor claims her honours, nor declines, As the light air of crowds uncertain veers; 20 To him, who not deserves to die, She shows the paths which heroes trod, Then bids him boldly tempt the sky, Spurn off his mortal clay, and rise a god. To silence due rewards we give, 25 And they, who mysteries reveal, Beneath my roof shall never live, Shall never hoist with me the doubtful sail. When Jove in anger strikes the blow, Oft with the bad the righteous bleed: 30 Yet with sure steps, though lame and slow, Vengeance o’ertakes the trembling villain’s speed. 17 Horace begins here the second part of the ode, with the praises of political or moral virtue, which is ever independent of a capricious, inconstant people, and by its own strength rises to places of greatest eminence.— Dac. 26 He who discovered the mysteries of Ceres was driven out from the society of humankind, and detested as a wretch un¬ worthy of the common offices of humanity. It was thought dangerous to converse with him, lest Jupiter in his anger should confound the innocent with the guilty. The Greeks not only punished with death the person who revealed these mys¬ teries, but even those who listened to them.— Dac. 100 HORACE. ODE III * Horace dissuades Augustus from transferring the seat of empire to Troy. The man, in conscious virtue bold, Who dares his secret purpose hold, Unshaken hears the crowd’s tumultuous cries, And the impetuous tyrant’s angry brow defies. Let the wild winds, that rule the seas 5 Tempestuous, all their horrors raise ; Let Jove’s dread arm with thunders rend the spheres, Beneath the crush of worlds undaunted he appears. * The boldness of designing, and singularity of invention; the sublimity of poetry, and artifice of conduct; the force of expression, and richness of figures; the choice of sentiments, and sweetness of numbers, in this poem, have compelled the critics to agree that it is one of the noblest odes of Horace. Julius Caesar, according to Suetonius, had formed a design of transporting the seat of empire to Troy, or Alexandria, after having exhausted Italy of its treasures and inhabitants. This was strongly reported a little before the dictator was put to death, and as Augustus seemed willing to enter into all the schemes of his predecessor, and as Troy was usually esteemed the seat of the Julian family, the Romans were apprehensive that he had resolved to carry this project into execution. It is certain that both Julius Caesar and Augustus, on many occa¬ sions, showed a very remarkable inclination in favour of Troy. The first ordered it to be rebuilt; the second settled a colony there ; and they both granted it considerable privileges. Thus the report concerning the dictator’s intention might naturally make the people attentive to the actions of his successor, and their apprehensions might have engaged the poet to write this ode, in which he boldly attempts to dissuade Augustus from his design, by representing Juno, in a full assembly of the gods, threatening the Romans with her resentment, if they should dare to rebuild the walls of a city which had been always an object of her displeasure and revenge. BOOK III.-ODE III. 101 Thus to the flamy towers above, The vagrant hero, son of Jove, 10 Upsoar’d with strength his own, where Caesar lies, And quaffs, with glowing lips, the bowl’s immortal joys. Lycaeus thus his tigers broke, Fierce and indocile to the yoke ; Thus from the gloomy regions of the dead, 15 On his paternal steeds, Rome’s mighty founder fled; When heaven’s great queen, with words benign Addressed th’ assembled powers divine— Troy, hated Troy, an umpire lewd, unjust, And a proud foreign dame, have sunk thee to the dust. . t To me, and wisdom’s queen decreed, 21 With all thy guilty race to bleed, What time thy haughty monarch’s perjured sire Mock’d the defrauded gods, and robb’d them of their hire. The gaudy guest of impious fame 25 No more pursues th’ adulterous dame, Hector no more his faithful brothers leads To break the Grecian force; no more the victor bleeds. Since the long war now sinks to peace, And all our heavenly factions cease; 30 Instant to Mars my vengeance I resign, And here receive his son, though born of Trojan line. 11 Divine honours were decreed to Augustus in the year 725, and the poet here appoints him a seat in heaven among the heroes who were deified for their resolution and constancy to show that his statue was placed in Rome with those of Pollux, Hercules, and Bacchus. The Romans painted the faces of these statues with vermilion. 12 102 HORACE. Here, with encircling glories bright, Free let him tread the paths of light, And rank’d among the tranquil powers divine, 35 Drink deep the nectar’d bowl, and quaff celestial wine. From Rome to Troy’s detested shores, While loud a length of ocean roars, Unenvied let th’ illustrious exiles reign, Where fate directs their course, and spreads their wide domain. 40 On Priam’s and th’ adulterer’s urn, While herds the dust insulting spurn, Let the proud capitol in glory stand, And Rome, to triumph’d Medes, give forth her stern command: Let the victorious voice of fame 45 Wide spread the terrors of her name Where seas the continents of earth divide, And Nilus bathes the plain with his prolific tide. Let her the golden mine despise; For deep in earth it better lies, ' 50 Than when by hands profane, from nature’s store, To human use compell’d, flames forth the sacred ore. Where nature’s utmost limits end, , Let her triumphant arts extend; 37 Juno is not contented with saying that a length of ocean shall roll between Troy and Rome, but shall be ever enraged with storms to hinder all commerce between the two nations. However, it is remarkable that all her threats are confined to the Trojans, nor ever fall on their descendants.— Dac. San. 39 The queen of the gods, in sign of reconciliation, begins to foretell the Romans the most glorious ages of their empire, in repeating the conditions expressed in the former verses, as if all their glory depended absolutely on those conditions. This turn has something so truly sublime, that perhaps the marvellous of poetry cannot rise higher. BOOK III.-ODE III. 103 Or where the sun pours down his madding beams, Or where the clouds are dark, and rain perpetual streams. 56 Thus let the warlike Romans reign, (So Juno and the fates ordain,) But on these terms alone, no more to dare Through piety or pride, their parent Troy repair; 60 For Troy rebuilt, ill-omen’d state ! Shall feel the same avenging fate ; Again my Grecians shall victorious prove, By me led on to war, the sister-wife of Jove. Thrice should Apollo raise her wall, 65 Thrice shall her brazen bulwarks fall, Thrice shall her matrons feel the victor’s chain, Deplore their slaughter’d sons, deplore their hus¬ bands slain. But whither would the muse aspire 1 Such themes nor suit the sportive lyre, 70 Nor should the wanton, thus in feeble strain, The councils of the gods, immortal themes ! profane. 60 The two principal motives which made the Romans ap¬ prehensive that Augustus intended to make Troy the capital of the world, were his piety and the confidence of his power. He was descended from the Trojans by ACneas, and the natural tenderness for his ancestors, joined to the flattering idea of such an ancient origin, seemed to call him to Troy. The present conjuncture gave him an opportunity of exenuting this change with the greatest ease. His power was raised to its highest pitch, and confirmed by almost a continual peace of nine years, in which he had twice shut the temple of Janus. He had now entered the East with two numerous armies, one of which he commanded in person, the other was marching towards Asia Minor under the conduct of Tiberius.— San. 69 Horace could not push the subject further without dis¬ pleasing Augustus ; for it is dangerous to let the great perceive that we have discovered what they are willing to conceal. He therefore stops short, and ends with a kind of artificial vanity, which is always pardonable in a poet.— Dac San 104 HORACE. ODE IV.—TO CALLIOPE. The poet describes the happiness of those who are under the protection of the gods. Descend from heaven, and in a lengthen’d strain, Queen of melodious sounds, the song sustain; Or on the voice high-raised, the breathing flute, The lyre of golden tone, or sweet Phcebean lute. Hark ! some celestial voice I raptured hear ! 5 Or does a pleasing phrensy charm my ear? Through hallow’d groves I stray, where streams beneath From lucid fountains flow, and zephyrs balmy breathe. Fatigued with sleep, and youthful toil of play, When on a mountain’s brow reclined I lay 10 Near to my natal soil, around my head The fabled woodland doves a verdant foliage spread: Matter, be sure, of wonder most profound To all the gazing habitants around, Who dwell in Acherontia’s airy glades, 15 Amid the Bantian woods, or low Ferentum’s meads; By snakes of poison black, and beasts of prey, That thus, in dewy sleep, unharm’d I lay ; Laurels and myrtle were around me piled, Not without guardian gods an animated child. 20 9 Horace endeavours to persuade his friends, by the miracles which the muses performed in his favour when he was a boy, that all this agreeable prospect is real. He begins, therefore, to number the benefits for which he was indebted to them, and thus insensibly proceeds to speak of the pardon which he had received by their means. He proposes himself as the first ex¬ ample of their protection, from whence he rises to their affec¬ tion and care for Augustus.— Dae. San. 15 Horace calls Acherontia a nest, because it was situated on rocks, on the frontiers of Lueania. Cicero says of Ulysses, “ so powerful is the love of our country, that the wisest of the Greeks preferred his Ithaca, fixed like a nest on rocks, to the enjoyment of immortality.”— Dac. BOOK III.-ODE IV. 105 Yours, I am ever yours, harmonious Nine, Whether I joy in Tibur’s vale supine ; Whether I climb the Sabine mountain’s height, Or in PraBneste’s groves, or Baian streams delight. Nor tree devoted, nor tempestuous main, 25 Nor flying hosts, that swept Philippi’s plain In fearful rout, your filial bard destroy’d, While in your springs divine and choral sports he joy’d- If by the muse’s faithful guidance led, Or Libya’s thirsty sands I’ll fearless tread, 30 Or climb the venturous bark, and launch from shore, Though Bosphorus in storms with madding horrors roar. Nor Britons, of inhospitable strain ; Nor quiver’d Scythians; nor the Caspian main ; Nor he, who joyous quaffs the thirsty bowl, 35 Streaming with horses’ blood, shall shake my daunt¬ less soul. 26 The poet here collects three facts, to show that the gods particularly watched over his preservation. He fled from the battle of Philippi in 712; he escaped being killed by the fall of a tree, 734 ; and he was preserved from shipwreck, probably in the year 716, when he went aboard the fleet with Maecenas, to pass over into Sicily against Pompey. He never mentions any danger of shipwreck to which he had been exposed in his return from Philippi, as Acron and some commentators have imagined, who suppose him wandering, with a tedious and un¬ certain voyage, through the Sicilian seas, instead of going di¬ rectly to Brundusium. Besides, such a voyage must have been as dangerous as tedious; those seas being covered with the fleets of Pompey and Domitius, to whom he was at that time an enemy, by his accepting an amnesty from Octavius.— San. 33 On the authority of the scholiast Acron, the commentators believed that the Britons sacrificed strangers to the gods ; and Torrentius tells us that in his time they were rather malevolent than cruel to foreigners, but that such a disposition must be ex¬ pected in a people separated from the whole world. Mr. Baxter very dexterously applies these human sacrifices to the Irish ; of whom the character he tells us is better to be understood, and gives this excellent reason for his decision • that St. Jerome (about three hundred years after this ode was written) saw two Irishmen devouring a human carcass m Gaul. 106 HORACE. When Caesar, by your forming arts inspired, Cheerful disbands his troops, of conquest tired, And yields to willing peace his laurell’d spoils, In the Pierian cave you charm the hero’s toils ; 40 Gracious from you the lenient councils flow, Which bid the hero spare his prostrate foe ; For Caesar rules like Jove, whose equal sway The ponderous mass of earth and stormy seas obey: O’er gods and mortals, o’er the dreary plains, 45 And shadowy ghosts, supremely just he reigns: But, dreadful in his wrath, to hell pursued, With thunder’s headlong rage, the fierce Titanian brood, Whose horrid youth, elate with impious pride, Unnumber’d, on their sinewy force relied ; 50 Mountain on mountain piled they raised in air, And shook the throne of Jove, and bade the thun- derer fear. But what could Mimas, of enormous might; Typhceus or Porphyrion’s threatening height; Or bold Enceladus fierce-darting far 55 The trunks of trees uptorn, dire archer of the war; Though with despair and rage inspired they rose, To sage Minerva’s sounding shield oppose 1 While Vulcan here in flames devour’d his way, There matron Juno stood, and there the god of day, 38 It is a noble encomium of Augustus, that he was fatigued with conquest, which he was always willing to end by an hon¬ ourable peace. Piso having happily terminated the Thracian war in 743, Augustus returned to Rome in the beginning of the year following, with Tiberius and Drusus, who had reduced the Germans, the Dacians, and other nations bordering on the Danube. The empire being thus at peace, Augustus executed a decree of the senate to shut the temple of Janus. This naturally supposes the disbanding of his armies, of which Horace speaks.— San. 60 The Roman or Matron Juno is here introduced by the poet supporting the empire of heaven, in compliment to her, as pa¬ troness and protectress of his country. In ancient gems and marbles she is always represented in a modest dress, as the Juno Regina, and Juno Moneta in a magnificent. She is cov- BOOK III.-ODE V. 107 Resolved, till he had quell’d the aspiring foe, 61 Never to lay aside th’unerring bow. He the pure dew of fair Castalia loves, There bathes his flowing hair, and haunts his natal groves. Ill-counsell’d force, by its own native weight, 65 Precipitately falls ; with happier fate While the good gods upraise the just design, And bold unhallow’d schemes pursue with wrath divine. This truth shall hundred-handed Gyas prove, And warm Orion, who with impious love 70 Tempting the goddess of the sylvan scene, Was by her virgin darts, gigantic victim ! slain. On her own monsters hurl’d with hideous weight, Fond mother Earth deplores her offspring’s fate ; By thunders dire to livid Orcus doom’d, 75 Nor fire can eat its way through ./Etna unconsumed. Such are the pains to lawless lust decreed; On Tityus’ liver shall the vulture feed With rage ungorged, while Pluto stern detains His amorous rival bound in thrice a hundred chains. ODE V.—THE PRAISES OF AUGUSTUS. Horace praises Augustus, who had subdued the Britons and Parthians. Dread Jove in thunder speaks his just domain; On earth, a present god, shall Caesar reign, Since world-divided Britain owns his sway, And Parthia’s haughty sons his high behests obey. ered with a long robe, like that of the Roman matrons, who held it scandalous to have any part uncovered but their faces. The figures of the Roman empresses were often formed under this character of Juno. 3 Strabo informs us that the princes of Britain gained his friendship by their embassies and submission. They carried their presents into the capitol, and made the Roman people masters of their whole island. Thus, although the Romans 108 HORACE. Oh name of country, once how sacred deem’d! 5 Oh sad reverse of manners, once esteem’d ! While Rome her ancient majesty maintain’d; In his own capitol while Jove imperial reign’d, Could they to foreign spousals meanly yield, Whom Crassus led with honour to the field ? 10 Have they, to their barbarian lords allied, Grown old in hostile arms beneath a tyrant’s pride, Basely forgetful of the Roman name, The heaven-descended shields, the vestal flame, That wakes eternal, and the peaceful gown ; 15 Those emblems, which the fates with boundless em¬ pire crown 1 When Regulus refused the terms of peace Inglorious, he foresaw the deep disgrace, W’hose foul example should in ruin end, And e’en to latest times our baffled arms extend, 20 Unless the captive youth in servile chains Should fall unpitied. In the Punic fanes Have I not seen, the patriot captain cried, The Roman ensigns fix’d in monumental pride 1 I saw our arms resign’d without a wound ; 25 Our freeborn citizens in fetters bound; The gates of Carthage open; and the plain, Late by our war laid waste, with culture clothed again. never triumphed for the conquest of Britain, yet Augustus was considered as having subdued it. 9 It was a double infamy to a Roman soldier to marry a for¬ eign woman, and by such an alliance to confound the blood of Rome with that of her enemies. 14 The poet aggravates the cowardice of the Romans by this very strong reflection, that they had forgotten the sacred buck¬ lers, the Roman habit and name, and Vesta’s eternal fire ; as if they had renounced the divine protection, and that universal empire which was promised to them by these sacred pledges. 28 At once to raise the courage and indignation of the Ro¬ mans, Regulus tells them that, the Carthaginians were so per¬ suaded of their weakness, that although the war was not fin- .shed, they lived as if in perfect peace, and even cultivated hose lands which he himself had laid waste.— Dac. BOOK III.-ODE V. 109 Ransom’d, no doubt, with nobler sense of fame The soldier shall return—ye purchase shame. 30 When the fair fleece imbibes the dier’s stain, Its native colour lost it never shall regain ; And valour, failing in the soldier’s breast, Scorns to resume what cowardice possess’d. When from the toils escaped, the hind shall turn 35 Fierce on her hunters, he the prostrate foe may spurn In second fight, who felt the fetters bind His arms enslaved ; who tamely hath resign’d His sword unstain’d with blood; who might have died, Yet on a faithless foe, with abject soul, relied; 40 Who for his safety mix’d poor terms of peace Even with the act of war; oh foul disgrace ! Oh Carthage, now with rival glories great, And on the ruins raised of Rome’s dejected state ! The hero spoke ; and from his wedded dame 45 And infant children turn’d, oppress’d with shame Of his fallen state ; their fond embrace repell’d, And sternly on the earth his manly visage held, Till, by his unexampled counsel sway’d, Their firm decree the wavering senate made; 50 Then while his friends the tears of sorrow shed, Amid the weeping throng the glorious exile sped. Nor did he not the cruel tortures know, Vengeful, prepared by a barbarian foe ; Yet, with a countenance serenely gay, 55 He turn’d aside the crowd, who fondly press’d his stay; As if, when wearied by some client’s cause* After the final sentence of the laws, Cheerful he hasted to some calm retreat, 59 To taste the pure delights that bless the rural seat. Hor. Vol. I.— K 110 HORACE. ODE VI.—TO THE ROMANS. In this ode the poet inveighs against the contempt of religion and corruption of morals among the Romans. Though guiltless of your fathers’ crimes, Roman, ’tis thine, to latest times, The vengeance of the gods to bear, Till you their awful domes repair, • Profaned with smoke their statues raise, 5 And bid the sacred altars blaze. That you the powers divine obey, Boundless on earth extend your sway ; From hence your future glories date, From hence expect the hand of fate. 10 Th’ offended gods, in horrors dire, On sad Hesperia pour’d their ire : The Parthian squadrons twice repell’d Our inauspicious powers, and quell’d Our boldest efforts, while they shone 15 With spoils, from conquer’d Romans won. The Dacians, whose unerring art Can wing with death the pointed dart; Th’ Egyptian, for his navies famed, Had Neptune’s boundless empire claim’d, 20 And almost in their rage destroy’d Imperial Rome, in civil strife employ’d. Fruitful of crimes, this age first stain’d Their hapless offspring, and profaned The nuptial bed, from whence the woes, 25 That various and unnumber’d rose From this polluted fountain-head, O’er Rome, and o’er the nations spread. 14 The aruspices and inspectors of the victims foretold to Crassus that his expedition should prove unfortunate. Many prodigies, which happened while he stayed at Zeugma, seemed to confirm their predictions. Crassus despised all these pres¬ ages, and hurried forward to his ruin. BOOK III.-ODE VI. Ill With pliant limbs the tender maid Now joys to learn the shameless trade 30 Of wanton dancing, and improves The pleasures of licentious loves; Then soon amid the bridal feast Boldly she courts her husband’s guest; Her love no nice distinction knows, 35 But round the wandering pleasure throws, Careless to hide the bold delight In darkness, and the shades of night. Nor does she need the thin disguise, The conscious husband bids her rise, 40 When some rich factor courts her charms, And calls the wanton to his arms, Then, prodigal of wealth and fame, Profusely buys the costly shame. Not such the youth, of such a strain, 45 Who died with Punic gore the main; Who Pyrrhus’ flying war pursued, Antiochus the great subdued, And taught that terror of the field, The cruel Hannibal, to yield: 50 But a rough race, inured to toil, With heavy spade to turn the soil, And, by a mother’s will severe, To fell the wood, and homeward bear The ponderous load, even when the sun 55 His downward course of light had run, And from the western mountain’s head His changing shadows lengthening spread, Unyoked the team, with toil oppress’d, And gave the friendly hour of rest. 60 What feels not time’s consuming rage ? More vicious than their fathers’ age Our sires begot the present race, Of manners impious, bold, and base; And yet, with crimes to us unknown, G5 Our sons shall mark the coming age their own. 112 HORACE. ODE VII.—TO ASTERIE. Horace comforts Asterie, troubled for the absence of her hus- band, and exhorts her to persevere in her fidelity to him. Ah ! why does Asterie thus weep for the youth Of constancy faithful, of honour and truth, Whom the first kindly zephyrs, that breathe o’er the spring, Enrich’d with the wares of Bithynia shall bring? Driven back from his course by the tempests, that rise When stars of mad lustre rule over the skies, 6 At Oricum now poor Gyges must stay, Where sleepless he weeps the cold winter away; While his landlady Chloe, in sorrow of heart, Bids her envoy of love exert all his art, 10 Who tells him how Chloe, unhappy the dame! Deep sighs for your lover, and burns in your flame. He tells him how Prcetus, deceived by his wife, Attempted, ah, dreadful! Bellerophon’s life, And urged by false crimes, how he sought to destroy The youth for refusing, too chastely, the joy: 16 How Peleus was almost despatch’d to the dead, While the lovely Magnesian abstemious he fled. Then he turns every tale, and applies it with art, To melt down his virtue, and soften his heart; 20 But constant and heart-whole young Gyges appears, And deafer than rocks the tale-teller hears. Then, fair one, take heed, lest Enipeus should prove A little too pleasing, and tempt thee to love ; And though without rival he shine in the course, 25 To rein the fierce steed though unequal his force, 13 Homer calls this wife of Proetus, Antaea, and by the tragic poets she is called Sthenobaea. Her story is related at length in the sixth book of the Iliad.— Cruq. BOOK III.-ODE VIII. 113 Though matchless the swiftness, with which he divides, In crossing the Tiber, the rough-swelling tides, Yet shut the fond door at evening’s first shade, Nor look down to the street at the soft serenade, 30 Or if cruel he call thee in love-sighing strain, Yet more and more cruel be sure to remain. ODE YIII.—'TO MAECENAS. m 4 Horace invites Maecenas to a domestic entertainment, which he was resolved to celebrate joyously. The Greek and Roman languages are thine, Their hallow’d customs, and their rites divine, And well you might the flowery wreath admire, The fragrant incense, and the sacred fire, Raised on the living turf to hail the day, 5 To which the married world their homage pay. When on my head a tree devoted fell, And almost crush’d me to the shades of hell, Grateful I vow’d to him, who rules the vine, A joyous banquet, while beneath his shrine 10 A snow-white goat should bleed, and when the year Revolving bids this festal morn appear, We’ll pierce a cask with mellow juice replete, Mellow’d with smoke, since Tullus ruled the state. 5 A festival was observed by the Roman ladies with much religious pomp, on the first of March, in memory of the day when the Sabine women, having reconciled their husbands with their fathers, dedicated a temple to Juno. In this temple they offered sacrifices and flowers to the goddess, and waited at home the rest of the day to receive the presents which their friends and husbands made them, as if to thank them for that happy mediation. 11 The ancients usually sacrificed to the gods the beasts which they hated. Thus a goat is sacrificed to Bacchus, be¬ cause it destroyed the vine. The victims of the celestial gods were white; those of the infernal deities were black.— Cma. K 2 114 HORACE. Come, then, Maecenas, and for friendship’s sake, 15 A friend preserved, a hundred bumpers take. Come drink the watchful tapers up to-day, While noise and quarrels shall be far away. No more let Rome your anxious thoughts engage, The Dacian falls beneath the victors’ rage, 20 The Medes in civil wars their arms employ, Inglorious wars ! each other to destroy ; Our ancient foes, the haughty sons of Spain, At length, indignant, feel the Roman chain; With bows unbent the hardy Scythians yield, 25 Resolved to quit the long-disputed field. No more the public claims thy pious fears, Be not too anxious then with private cares, But seize the gifts the present moment brings, Those fleeting gifts, and leave severer things. 30 19 Augustus was not yet returned from his eastern expedi¬ tion; and when Agrippa went to Spain, Pannonia, and Syria, Maecenas possessed alone the government of Rome and Italy, until September, 738, when he resigned it to Statilius Taurus, that he might follow Augustus into Gaul.— Torr. San. 25 It was the custom of all the northern nations to hold their bows unstrung, when they offered proposals of peace or truce, and when they retired off the field of battle. ODE IX.—TO LYDIA.* A Dialogue between Horace and Lydia. Horace. While I was pleasing to your arms Nor any youth of happier charms Thy snowy bosom blissful press’d, Not Persia’s king like me was bless’d. Lydia. While for no other fair you burn’d, 5 Nor Lydia was for Chloe scorn’d, What maid was then so bless’d as thine ? Not Ilia’s fame could equal mine. * Horace in this ode hath found an art of joining the polite¬ ness of courts to iht: simuiicitv of the country.— Torr. BOOK III.-ODE X. 115 H. Now Chloe reigns; her voice and lyre Melt down the soul to soft desire, 10 Nor will I fear e’en death, to save Her dearer beauties from the grave. L. My heart young Calais inspires, Whose bosom glows with mutual fires, For whom I twice would die with joy, 15 If death would spare the charming boy. H. Yet what if love, whose bands we broke, Again should tame us to the yoke; Should I shake off bright Chloe’s chain, And take my Lydia home again 1 20 L. Though he exceed in beauty far The rising lustre of a star; Though light as cork thy fancy strays, Thy passions wild as angry seas, When vex’d with storms; yet gladly I 25 With thee would live, with thee would die. 11 According to the superstition of the ancients, who believed that the death of one person might be prevented by that of an other. From hence came the custom of those devotements, made for the lives of princes. 20 Horace was willing to try whether Lydia would consent to a reconciliation ; but, to avoid a refusal, he leaves the sense unfinished, and rather insinuates than expresses his own incli¬ nation ; or perhaps the break is owing to the warmth of Lydia, who interrupts him, and prevents what he is going to say. ODE X.—'TO LYCE. Horace implores Lyce to take pity on him. Though you drank the deep stream of Tanais icy, The wife of some barbarous blockhead, oh, Lyce, Yet your heart might relent to expose me reclined At your cruel shut door to the rage of the wind. Hark! your gate—how it creaks! how the grove, planted round 5 Yon beautiful villa, rebellows the sound ! 116 HORACE. How Jupiter numbs all the regions below, And glazes with crystal the fleeces of snow! Away with these humours of pride and disdain, To Venus ungrateful, to Cupid a pain, Lest, while by the pulley you raise to the top, 10 Your rope should run back, and your bucket should drop, No sprightly Tyrrhenian begot thee a prude, Another Penelope, harsh to be woo’d. Oh, though neither presents, nor vow-sighing strain, Nor violet painting the cheek of thy swain, 15 Nor thy husband, who gives up his heart for a ditty To a song-singing wench, can provoke thee to pity, Though like the hard oak you’re to softness inclined, And milder than all of the serpentine kind, Yet think not this side can for ever sustain 20 Thy threshold hard-hearted, and sky-falling rain. ODE XI.—TO MERCURY. Horace applies to Mercury to inspire him with an ode capable of conquering Lyde’s obstinacy. Oh thou, by whose harmonious aid, Amphion’s voice the listening stones could lead: And sweetest shell, of power to raise, On seven melodious strings, thy various lays, Not vocal, when you first were found, 5 But of a simple and ungrateful sound ; Now tuned so sweetly to the ear, That gods and men with sacred rapture hear; Oh ! thou inspire the melting strain To charm my Lyde’s obstinate disdain, 10 Who, like a filly o’er the field With playful spirit bounds, and fears to yield To hand of gentlest touch, or prove, Wild as she is, the joys of wedded love. BOOK III.-ODE XI. 117 ’Tis yours, with all their beasts of prey, 15 To bid the forests move, and powerful stay The rapid stream. The dog of hell, Immense of bulk, to thee soft-soothing fell, And suppliant bow’d, though round his head His hundred snakes their guardian horrors spread; 20 Baleful his breath though fiery glow’d, And from his three-tongued jaws fell poison flow’d. Ixion, of his pains beguiled, And Tityus, with unwilling pleasure, smiled; Dry stood their urn, while with soft strain 25 You soothed the labours of the virgin train Let Lyde hear, what pains, decreed, Though late, in death attend the direful deed. There doom’d to fill, unceasing task ! With idle toil, an ever-streaming cask; 20 Impious, who in the hour of rest, Could plunge their daggers in a husband’s breast. Yet worthy of the nuptial flame, And nobly meriting a deathless name, Of many, one untainted maid, 35 Gloriously false, her perjured sire betray’d. Thus to her youthful lord—Arise ; Awake, lest sleep eternal close thine eyes; Eternal sleep : and, ah ! from whom You little dreaded the relentless doom. 40 Oh! fly, my lord, this wrathful sire; Far from my sisters, fly, those sisters dire, Who riot in their husbands’ blood, As lionesses rend their panting food; While I, to such fell deeds a foe, 45 Nor bind thee here, nor strike the fatal blow. Me let my father load with chains, Or banish to Numidia’s farthest plains; My crime, that I a loyal wife, In mercy spared a wretched husband’s life. 50 While Venus, and the shades of night Protect thee, speed, by sea or land, thy flight. 118 HORACE. May every happy omen wait To guide thee through this gloomy hour of fate, Yet not forgetful of thy doom, 55 Engrave thy grateful sorrow on my tomb. ODE XII.—TO NEOBULE. In this ode it is intimated that Neobule, being captivated by the love of young Hebrus, had given herself up to sloth. Unhappy the maidens forbidden to prove The bumper’s full joy, or the raptures of love ; Unhappy the girls, who are destined to hear The tedious rebukes of old uncles severe. Cytheraea’s wing’d son now bids thee resign 5 The toils of Minerva, the spinster divine ; For, now, Neobule, with other desires The brightness of Hebrus thy bosom inspires ; When he rises with vigour from Tiber’s rough waves, Where the oil of his labours athletic he laves, 10 Like Bellerophon skilful to rein the fierce steed, At cuffs never conquer’d, nor outstripp’d in speed, And dext’rous with darts never flying in vain, To wound the light stag, bounding over the plain, Or active and valiant the boar to surprise, 15 Transfix’d with his spear, as in covert he lies. 4 Among the Romans, uncles had a great power over their nephews; and, as they were not usually so indulgent as fathers, their severity passed into a proverb.— Torr. BOOK III.-ODE XIII. 119 ODE XIII.—TO THE FOUNTAIN BANDUSIA.* Horace promises to the fountain a sacrifice, and renown from his verses. Fountain, whose waters far surpass The shining face of polish’d glass, To thee, the goblet, crown’d with flowers, Grateful, the rich libation pours ; A goat, whose horns begin to spread, 5 And, bending, arm his swelling head, Whose bosom glows with young desires, Which war, or kindling love inspires, Now meditates his blow in vain,— His blood shall thy fair fountain stain. 10 When the fierce dogstar’s fervid ray, Flames forth, and sets on fire the day, To vagrant flocks, that range the field, You a refreshing coolness yield. Or to the labour-wearied team, 15 Pour forth the freshness of thy stream. Soon shalt thou flow a noble spring, While in immortal verse I sing The oak, that spreads thy rocks around, From whence thy babbling waters bound. 20 * A beautiful fountain in the estate of a great poet ought to be immortal; and surely as long as the name of Horace shall live, or as long as poetry shall be loved, the name of Bandusia shall be remembered among the poetical fountains, Castaha, Aganippe, Hippocrene, &c. There is in this ode an inimitable simplicity of description, and it is yet more valuable, as it is a curious example of the sacrifices offered to fountains, or rather to the deities who presided over them.— Saji. Dac. 120 HORACE. ODE XIV.—TO THE ROMANS.* Horace celebrates Augustus’s return from Spain. Thy prince, oh Rome, who foreign realms Explored like Jove’s immortal son, Fearless to search the laurel wreath By death and glorious daring won, Victorious comes from farthest Spain, 5 To Rome and all his guardian gods again. Let her, who to her arms receives With joy her own, her laurell’d spouse, Her private sacrifice perform’d, Pay to just Heaven her public vows, 10 And let the fair Octavia lead The matron train in suppliant veils array’d ; The matron train, to whose glad arms Their sons, with conquest crown’d, return; And you, fair youth, whose pious tears 15 Your slaughter’d sires and husbands mourn, * Augustus left Rome in June 727 for his British expedi¬ tion ; hut satisfied with the submission of that people, he turned his arms against the Spaniards, and did not return to Rome until the year 730. As the poet celebrated his departure, so he now celebiates his return ; and after having described the public cer¬ emonies of the festival, he ends with his enjoyment of the day at home in his private family.— Torr. 2 It is probable that the victories which Augustus gained over the Cantabrians had given occasion to the poets and ora¬ tors of the time to compare him to Hercules. Horace also uses a comparison, which flattery had rendered sacred, but with this advantage, that Augustus now returns victorious to Rome, as Hercules formerly went to Latium, after his exploits in Spain.— Sanadon. 12 The Roman ladies usually bound their heads, as a mark of their chastity, with fillets, which common women durst not wear. But Horace rather means the sacred veils, with which they covered their heads and hands in sacrifices, public prayers, and processions on extraordinary occasions.— Dac. BOOK III.-ODE XIV. 121 This day at least your griefs restrain, And luckless from ill-omen’d words abstain. This day, with truly festal joy, Shall drive all gloomy cares away, 20 For while imperial Caesar holds O’er the glad earth his awful sway, Nor fear of death from foreign arms. Nor civil rage my dauntless soul alarms. Boy, bring us essence, bring us crowns; 25 Pierce me a cask of ancient date, Big with the storied Marsian war, And with its glorious deeds replete, If yet one jovial cask remain, Since wandering Spartacus o’erswept the plain. 30 Invite Neaera to the feast, Who sweetly charms the listening ear, And bid the fair one haste to bind In careless wreaths her essenced hair; But should her porter bid you stay, 35 Leave the rough, surly rogue, and come away. When hoary age upon our heads Pours down its chilling weight of snows, No more the breast with anger burns, No more with amorous heat it glows: 40 Such treatment Horace would not bear, When warm with youth, when Plancus fill'd the consul’s chair. 42 Plancus was consul in the year in which the battle of Philippi was fought, where our poet appeared in the cause of liberty, and was a tribune, under Brutus —Bond. Hor. Vol. I.—L 122 HORACE. ODE XV.—TO CHLORIS. The poet advises an old woman to set bounds to her debauchery and lewdness. Thou poor man’s encumbrance, thou rake of a wife, At length put an end to this infamous life; Now near thy long home, to be rank’d with the shades, Give over to frisk it with buxom young maids, And, furrow’d with wrinkles, profanely to shroud 5 Those bright constellations with age’s dark cloud. What Pholoe well, with a decency free, Might practise, sits awkward, oh Chloris, on thee. Like her, whom the timbrel of Bacchus arouses, Thy daughter may better lay siege to the houses 10 Of youthful gallants, while she wantonly gambols, Of Nothus enamour’d, like a goat in its rambles; The spindle, the distaff, and wool spinning thrifty, Not musical instruments, fit thee at fifty, Nor roses empurpled, enriching the breeze, 15 Nor hogsheads of liquor, drunk down to the lees. ODE XVI.—TO MAECENAS. In this ode are depicted the evil of riches, and the blessings of mediocrity. Of watchful dogs an odious ward Might well one hapless virgin guard, When in a tower of brass immured, And by strong gates of oak secured, Although by mortal gallants lewd 5 With all their midnight arts pursued, Had not great Jove, and Venus fair Laugh’d at her father’s fruitless care, For well they knew no fort could hold Against a god transform’d to gold. 10 BOOK III.-ODE XVI. 123 Stronger than thunder’s winged force All-powerful gold can speed its course, Through watchful guards its passage make, And loves through solid walls to break: From gold the overwhelming woes, 15 That crush’d the Grecian augur, rose; Philip with gold through cities broke, And rival monarchs felt his yoke ; Captains of ships to gold are slaves, Though fierce as their own winds and waves. 20 Yet anxious care, and thirst of more Attend the still increasing store. While you in humble rank appear, Gracing the knighthood, that you wear, By your example taught, I dread 25 To raise the far conspicuous head. The more we to ourselves deny, The more the gods our wants supply. Far from the quarters of the great, Happy, though naked, I retreat, 30 And to th’unwishing few with joy A bless’d and bold deserter fly, 15 Eriphyle discovered to her brother Adrastus where her nusband Amphiaraus had concealed himself, that he might not be obliged to go to the war of Thebes, from whence he knew he should never return. She received a necklace of pearl as the price of her treachery, and Amphiaraus went to the siege, where he was slain. Her son Alcmascia, in revenge for his father, put her to death, and he was afterward killed by his un¬ cles in vengeance for their sister. Thus Horace justly says, that the avarice of one woman was the ruin of the whole family.— Lamb. 17 Philip was advised by the oracle of Apollo to fight with golden spears, and it was one of his maxims that no fortress was impregnable into which an ass could enter laden with gold. 19 Even captains of ships are not proof against the tempta¬ tions of gold. It has been always remarkable that seamen have something of rudeness and fierceness in their manners and temper; but perhaps the poet intended this remark particularly against some captains of ships at that time, who tailed in their duty, by being corrupted with gold.— Torr. 124 HORACE. Possess’d of what the great despise, In real, richer pomp I rise, Than if, from fair Apulia’s plain, 35 I stored in heaps the various grain, While, of the wealthy mass secure, Amid the rich abundance poor. The streamlet, flowing through my ground; The wood, which a few acres bound; 40 The little farm of kindly soil, Nor faithless to its master’s toil, Shall tell the consul, whose domain Extends o’er Afric’s fertile plain, Though of his envied lot possess’d, 45 He ne’er shall be like Horace bless’d. Though nor the famed Calabrian bee Collects its golden sweets for me; For me no Formian vintage grows, With mellow’d warmth where Bacchus flows; 50 Nor on the verdant Gallic mead My flocks of richer fleeces feed: Yet am I not with want oppress’d, Which vainly seeks the port of rest, Nor would thy bounteous hand deny 55 My larger wishes to supply; But while those wishes I restrain, Farther I stretch my small domain Than could I distant kingdoms join, And make united empires mine ; 60 For sure the state of man is such, They greatly want who covet much: Then happy he, whom Heaven hath fed With frugal, but sufficient bread. 38 Nothing is more common than this poverty in the midst of abundance. In some it proceeds from avarice, in others from prodigality, while he who is contented with a moderate fortune knows not either of these contrary excesses, which render the miser and the prodigal equally wretched.— San. BOOK III.-ODE XVIII. 125 ODE XVII.—TO jELIUS LAMIA The poet exhorts Lamia to spend the morrow, which threatens to be dark and cloudy, with a liberal indulgence ^Elius, whose ancient lineage springs From Lamus, founder of the name, (From whom a sacred line of kings Shines through the long records of fame ; From whom th’ illustrious race arose 5 Who first possess’d the Formian towers, And reign’d where Liris smoothly flows To fair Marica’s marshy shores,) If the old shower-foretelling crow Croak not her boding note in vain, 10 To-morrow’s eastern storm shall strow The woods with leaves, with weeds the main. Then pile the fuel while you may, And cheer your spirit high with wine, Give to your slaves one idle day, 15 And feast upon the fatted swine. ODE XVIII.—TO FAUNUS.* Hora.ce prays that Faunus would be propitious to him. Faunus, who with eager flame Chase the nymphs, thy flying game, If a tender kid distain, Each returning year, thy fane, If with wine we raise the soul, 5 (Social Venus loves the bowl,) -r.-T- I ■ ■■'>' ' * This ode is divided into two equal parts. The first contains the petition of the poet; the second the benefits of the god, and the acknowledgments of the village. L 2 126 HORACE. If thy consecrated shrine Smoke with odours, breath divine ! Gently traverse o’er my bounds, Gently through my sunny grounds, 10 Gracious to my fleecy breed, Sporting o’er the flowery mead. See my flocks in sportive vein Frisk it o’er the verdant plain, When through winter’s gloom thy day 15 Festal shines, the peasants play On the grassy matted soil, Round their oxen, free from toil. See, the wolf forgets his prey, With my darling lambs to play; 20 See the forest’s bending head At thy feet its honours shed, While with joyful foot the swain Beats the glebe he plough’d with pain. 9 The Romans believed that many of their gods passed their winter in one country, and their summer in another. Faunus was of this number. He went from Arcadia to Italy the thir¬ teenth of February, and returned the fifth of December. His departure and return were celebrated with sacrifices, and prob¬ ably this ode was written for his December festival.— Dac. 21 In Italy the trees shed their leaves in December; and Horace artfully manages this circumstance, as if the trees themselves, touched by the divinity of Faunus, poured down their leaves to cover his way.— Dac. ODE XIX.—TO TELEPHUS. Horace advises an unseasonable detailer of ancient history to think rather of what might promote the festivity of the enter¬ tainment. When Inachus reign’d to thee is notorious, When slain for his country was Codrus the glorious; W T hen govern’d the monarchs from Peleus descended, When Troy was besieged, and so bravely defended; BOOK III.-ODE XX. 127 But where the best Chian, or what it may cost ye, 5 Or how we may warm the long winter and frosty, Or temper our water with embers so glowing, Ah! Telephus, here thou art strangely unknowing. Here’s a bumper to midnight; to Luna’s first shining; A third to our friend in his post of divining. 10 Come fill up the bowl, then fill up your bumpers, Let three, or thrice three, be the jovial of numbers. The poet enraptured, sure never refuses His brimmers thrice three to his odd-number’d muses; But the graces, in naked simplicity cautious, 15 Are afraid more than three might to quarrels de¬ bauch us. Gay frolick and mirth to madness shall fire us; Why breathes not the flute then with joy to inspire us 1 Why hangs on the wall, in silence dolorous, The soft-swelling pipe, and the hautboy sonorous 1 20 I hate all the slaves who are sparing of labour; Give us roses abundant, and let our old neighbour, With his damsel, ill suited to such an old fellow, Even burst with his envy to hear us so mellow. Poor Horace in flames, how slowly consuming! 25 For Glycera burns, while Chloe the blooming Her Telephus courts, whose tresses are beaming, As are the bright rays from Vesperus streaming. ODE XX.—TO PYRRHUS. Horace dissuades Pyrrhus from endeavouring to force a beau¬ tiful youth from his damsel. Pyrrhus, you tempt a danger high When you would steal from hungry Li¬ oness her cubs, and soon shall fly Inglorious. 128 HORACE. What wars of horrid form arise 5 Through crowds of lovers when she flies To seek her boy, and snatch the prize, Victorious! You shoot; she whets her tusks to bite: While he, who sits to judge the fight 10 Treads on the palm with foot so white, Disdainful! And sweetly floating in the air, Wanton he spreads his fragrant hair, Like Ganymede, or Nireus fair, 15 And vainful. ODE XXI.—TO HIS CASK. Horace implores his cask to furnish him with generous wine in compliment to Messala. Gentle cask of mellow wine, And of equal age with mine; Whether you to broils or mirth, Or to madding love give birth; Or the toper’s temples steep 5 Sweetly in ambrosial sleep; For whatever various use You preserve the chosen juice, Worthy of some festal hour, Now the hoary vintage pour: 10 Come—Corvinus, guest divine, Bids me draw the smoothest wine. r Though with science deep imbued, He, not like a cynic rude, / . 13 The sciences which require any severer study are apt to render men savage and rude. Epicurus alone, of all the an¬ cients, knew how to humanize the virtue of a philosopher; but his discipies in general degenerated from their master by not un¬ derstanding his principles. —San V BOOK III.-ODE XXII. 129 Thee despises ; for of old 15 Cato’s virtue, we are told, Often with a bumper glow’d, And with social raptures flow’d. You by gentle tortures oft Melt hard tempers into soft; 20 You strip off the grave disguise From the counsels of the wise, And with Bacchus, blithe and gay, Bring them to the face of day. Hope by thee, fair fugitive ! 25 Bids the wretched strive to live; To the beggar you dispense Heart and brow of confidence ; Warm’d by thee he scorns to fear Tyrant’s frown, or soldier’s spear. 30 Bacchus boon, and Venus fair, (If she come with cheerful air,) And the graces, charming band! Ever dancing hand-in-hand; And the living taper’s flame 35 Shall prolong thy purple stream, Till returning Phoebus bright Puts the lazy stars to flight. ODE XXII.—TO DIANA. Horace promises an annual thanksgiving for the happy delivery of his mistress. Of groves and mountains guardian maid, Invoked by three mysterious names ; Goddess three-form’d, whose willing aid With gracious pow’r appears display’d, From death to save our pregnant dames. 5 \ 130 HORACE. To thee I consecrate the pine, That nodding waves my villa round. And here, beneath thy hallow’d shrine Yearly shall bleed a festal swine, That meditates the sidelong wound. 10 ODE XXIII.—TO PHIDYLE. The design of this ode is to show that the blessings of the gods are not so effectually secured by costly as by pure oblations. If on the new-born moon, with hands supine, My Phidyle, laborious rustic, prays ; If she with incense, and a ravening swine, And yearly fruits, her household gods appease, Nor pestilential storm shall smite her vines, 5 Nor barren mildew shall her harvests fear, Nor shall her flocks, when the sad year declines, Beneath its fruitage, feel th’ autumnal air. Let the devoted herds, that lowing feed In snow-topp’d Algidon’s high-branching wood, 10 Or the fair kine of rich Albania bleed, And stain the pontiff’s hallow’d axe with blood; The little gods, around thy sacred fire, No vast profusion of the victim’s gore, But pliant myrtle wreaths alone require, 15 And fragrant herbs, the pious, rural store. A grateful cake, when on the hallow’d shrine Offer’d by hands, that know no guilty stain, Shall reconcile th’ offended powers divine, When bleeds the pompous hecatomb in vain. 20 6 Huetius gives an ingenious and probable account of this blight or mildew in corn. He fancies that the drops of dew, being collected, are like convex or burning glasses; which being heated by the rays of the sun, contract a caustic quality, that burns the grain, fruits, flowers, or leaves- on which they lie. I BOOK III.-ODE XXIV. 131 ODE XXIV.—AGAINST MISERS.* The poet inveighs against the vices of his age, and proposes remedies for them. Though of th’ unrifled gold possess’d Of gorgeous Ind, and Araby the bless’d : Though with hewn, massy rocks you raise Your haughty structures mid th’ indignant seas, Yet, soon as fate shall round your head, 5 With adamantine strength, its terrors spread, Not the dictator’s power shall save Your soul from fear, your body from the grave. Happy the Scythians, houseless train! Who roll their vagrant dwellings o’er the plain; 10 Happy the Getes, fierce and brave, Whom no fix’d laws of property enslave 1 While open stands the golden grain, The freeborn fruitage of the unbounded plain, Succeeding yearly to the toil, 15 They plough with equal tasks the public soil. Not there the guiltless stepdame knows The baleful draught for orphans to compose; No wife high-portion’d rules her spouse, Or trusts her essenced lover’s faithless vows ; 20 The lovers there for dowry claim The father’s virtue, and the mother’s fame, * To instruct with dignity and delight is almost the peculiar character of lyric poetry, which creates respect for moral truth by sublimity of sentiments, majesty of cadence, boldness of figures, and force of expression, while it prevents disgust by its brevity, variety, and a choice of ornaments, which' a good poet knows how to use with propriety. Among a great number of pieces which Horace wrote in this kind, the present ode is not the least estimable, it is naturally divided into three parts: in the first he exposes the licentious enormities of his age; in the second he discovers their causes; and applies their proper remedies in the third.— San. 21 There were four things which ensured the happiness of marriage among the Scythians. A virtuous education ; an at tachment of wives to their husbands ; their horror of conjugal infidelity; and the rigour of their laws, which punished that crime with death .—San 132 HORACE. That dares not break the nuptial tie, Polluted crime ! whose portion is to die. Oh! that some patriot, wise and good, 25 Would stop this impious thirst of civil blood, And joy on statutes to behold His name, the father of the state, enroll’d! Oh ! let him quell our spreading shame, And live to latest times an honour’d name. 30 Though living virtue we despise, We follow her, when dead, with envious eyes; But wherefore do we thus complain, If justice wear her awful sword in vain I And what are laws, unless obey’d 35 By the same moral virtues they were made ? If neither burning heats extreme, Where eastern Phoebus darts his fiercest beam, Nor where the northern tempest blows, And freezes down to earth th’ eternal snows, 40 Nor the wild terrors *of the main Can daunt the merchant, and his voyage restrain ; If want, ah, dire disgrace ! we fear, From thence with vigour act, with patience bear, While virtue’s paths untrodden lie, 45 Those paths that lead us upward to the sky I Oh ! let us consecrate to Jove (Rome shall with shouts the pious deed approve) Our gems, our gold, pernicious store ! Or plunge into the deep the baleful ore. 50 If you, indeed, your crimes detest, Tear forth, uprooted from the youthful breast 51 Horace here speaks the clear language of the stoics, who carried morality to an impracticable rigour. One of their un¬ meaning dogmas was, that we ought to extinguish our passions. Epicurus, on the contrary, directs us to moderate our natural appetites, to regulate them by reason, and to make them subser¬ vient to our happiness. This is wise advice indeed, for our passions are inseparable from our humanity, nor can we divest ourselves of them without ceasing to be men. When they are well conducted, they become instruments of the most eminent virtues.— San. BOOK III.—ODE XXV. 133 The seeds of each depraved desire, While manly toils a firmer soul inspire. Nor knows our youth, of noblest race, 55 To mount the managed steed, or urge the chase; More skill’d in the mean arts of vice, The whirling troque, or law-forbidden dice: And yet his worthless heir to raise To hasty wealth, the perjured sire betrays 60 His partners, coheirs, and his friends ; But, while in heaps his wicked wealth ascends, He is not of his wish possess’d, There’s something wanting still to make him bless’d. 58 All games of hazard were forbidden by several laws, ex¬ cept during the Saturnalia. Suetonius tells us, Augustus not only played in that, but in all other festivals. ODE XXV.—TO BACCHUS. Being elevated through the inspiration of Bacchus, the poet’s design is to praise Augustus. Whither, in sacred ecstasy, Bacchus, when full of thy divinity, Dost thou transport me 1 To what glades ? What gloomy caverns, unfrequented shades 1 In what recesses shall I raise 5 My voice to sacred Caesar’s deathless praise, Amid the stars to bid him shine, Rank’d in the councils of the powers divine 1 Some bolder song shall wake the lyre, And sounds unknown its trembling strings inspire. 10 Thus o’er the steepy mountain’s height, Starting from sleep, thy priestess takes her flight; Amazed, behold the Thracian snows, With languid streams where icy Heber flows; Or Rhodope’s high-towering head, 15 Where frantic choirs barbarian measures tread. Hor. Yol. I.—M 134 HORACE. O’er pathless rocks, through lonely groves,- With what delight my raptured spirit roves! Oh thou, who rul’st the Naiad’s breast; By whom the Bacchanalian maids, possess’d 15 With sacred rage inspired by thee. Tear from the bursting glebe th’ uprooted tree; Nothing or low, or mean, I sing, No mortal sound shall shake the swelling string. The venturous theme my soul alarms, 25 But warm’d by thee the thought of danger charms. When vine-crown’d Bacchus leads the way What can his daring votaries dismay 1 ODE XXVI.—TO VENUS, Our author bids farewell to love. I lately was fit to be call’d upon duty, And gallantly fought in the service of beauty; But now crown’d with conquest I hang up my arms $ My harp, that campaign’d it in midnight alarms. Here fix on this wall, here my ensigns of wars; 5 By the statue of Venus, my torches and bars, And arrows, which threatened, by Cupid their liege, War, war on all doors, that dare hold out a siege. Oh, goddess of Cyprus, and Memphis, that know Nor the coldness or weight of love-chilling snow; 10 With a highdifted stroke, yet gently severe, Avenge me on Chloe, the proud and the fair I ODE XXVII.—TO GALATEA. Horace endeavours to deter Galatea from a voyage, by setting before her the dangers of the sea, and particularly the ex¬ ample of Europa. Fierce from her cubs the ravening fox, Or wolf from steep Lanuvian rocks, BOOK III.—ODE XXVII. 135 Or pregnant bitch, or chattering jay, Ill-omen’d, guide the wicked on their way; Serpents, like arrows, sidelong thwart 5 The road, and make their horses start. For those I love, with anxious fear I view the doubtful skies, a prudent seer; And bid the chanting raven rise When Phoebus gilds his orient skies ; 10 Ere speeds the shower-boding crow To lakes, whose languid waters cease to flow. Happy may Galatea prove, Nor yet unmindful of our love; For now no luckless pie prevails, 15 Nor vagrant crow forbids the swelling sails. Yet see what storms tumultuous rise, While prone Orion sweeps the skies. I know the Adriatic main, And western winds, perfidiously serene. 20 But may the rising tempest shake Our foes, and dreadful o’er them break; For them the blackening ocean roar, And angry surges lash the trembling shore, When on her bull Europa rode, 25 Nor knew she press’d th’ imperial god, Bold as she was, th’ affrighted maid The rolling monsters of the deep survey’d. Late for the rural nymphs she chose Each flower, a garland to compose; SO But now, beneath the gloom of night, Views nought but seas, and stars of feeble light. 19 Horace knew the Adriatic sea in his voyage to Athens, when he went to study philosophy there ; and a second time in his return to Italy, after the battle of Philippi. 25 Galatea was preparing to embark, because the skies were serene, and the seas calm; but Horace tells her that Europa was deceived by the same serenity of the skies and calmness of the seas; that she soon had reason to repent of her boldness, when she saw nothing round her but stars and waves. Such is the force and justness of the comparison.— Ton. 136 HORACE. Soon as she touch’d the Cretan shore, “ My sire,” she cries; “ ah! mine no more ; For every pious tender name 35 Is madly lost in this destructive flame. “ Where am I, wretched and undone! And shall a single death atone A virgin’s crime ! or do my fears Deplore the guilty deed with waking tears ? 40 “ Or am I yet, ah ! pure from shame, Mock’d by a vain, delusive dream! Could I my springing flow’rets leave To tempt through length of seas the faithless wave 1 “ While thus with just revenge possess’d, 45 How could I tear that monstrous beast! How would I break, by rage inspired, Those horns, alas ! too fondly once admired 1 “ Shameless, my father’s gods I fly; Shameless, and yet I fear to die. 50 Hear me, some gracious, heavenly power, Let lions fell this naked corse devour. “ My cheeks ere hollow wrinkles seize; Ere yet their rosy bloom decays ; While youth yet rolls its vital flood; 55 Let tigers fiercely riot in my blood. “ But hark ! I hear my father cry, ‘ Make haste, unhappy maid, to die; And if a pendent fate you choose, Your faithful girdle gives the kindly noose; 60 “ ‘ Or if you like a headlong death, Behold the pointed rocks beneath; Or plunge into the rapid wave, Nor live on haughty tasks, a spinster-slave, “ ‘ Some rude barbarian’s concubine, 65 Born as thou art of royal line.’ ” Here the perfidious-smiling dame, And idle Cupid to the mourner came; A while she rallied with the fair, Then with a grave and serious air, 70 BOOK III.—-’•ODE XXVIII. 137 “ Indulge,” she cries, “ thy rage no more, This odious bull shall yield him to thy power. “ Yet sigh no more but think of love; For know thou art the wife of Jove ; Then learn to bear thy future fame 75 When earth’s wide continent shall boast thy name.” 76 Horace follows the poetical tradition, for it is more proba¬ ble that Europe took its name from a province of Northern Macedonia, called Europia. The ancients divided the whole earth into two parts, Europe and Asia.— San. Dac. ODE XXVIII.—TO LYDE. Horace invites Lyde to his house to celebrate the feast of Neptune. Say, what shall I do on the festival day Of Neptune 1 Come, Lyde, without more delay, And broach the good creature, invaulted that lies; Cast off all reserve, and be merry and wise. The evening approaches, you see, from yon hill; 5 And yet, as if Phoebus, though winged, stood still, You dally to bring us a cup of the best, Condemn’d, like its consul, ignobly to rest. With voices alternate, the sea-potent king, And the Nereids, with ringlets of azure, we’ll sing. 10 From the sweet-sounding shell thy hand shall raise Latona’s, and swift-darting Cynthia’s praise. The gay-smiling goddess of love and delight, Who rules over Cnidus, and Cyclades bright, And guiding her sw r ans with a soft silken rein, 15 Revisits her Paphos, shall crown the glad strain. Then to the good night, while bumpers elate us, We’ll sing a farewell, and a decent quietus, M2 138 HORACE. ODE XXIX.—TO MAECENAS.* Horace invites Maecenas to a frugal entertainment, and admon¬ ishes him to lay aside all anxious cares about futurity. Descended from an ancient line, That once the Tuscan sceptre sway’d, Haste thee to meet the generous wine, Whose piercing is for thee delay’d ; For thee the fragrant essence flows, 5 For thee, Maecenas, breathes the blooming rose. From the delights, oh! break away, WTuch Tibur’s marshy prospect yields, Nor with unceasing joy survey Fair JEsula’s declining fields; 10 No more the verdant hills admire Of Telegon, who kill’d his aged sire. Instant forsake the joyless feast, Where appetite in surfeit dies, And from the tower’d structure haste, 15 That proudly threatens to the skies; From Rome and its tumultuous joys, Its crowds, and smoke, and opulence, and noise. \ * * We may say of the odes of Horace, what has been said of the orations of Demosthenes, the iambic poems of Archilochus, and the letters of Atticus, that the longest are not the least beautiful. To support one continued flight of poetry deserves its praise, but Horace in this ode rises without ceasing, until he has gained a point of elevation to which no other poet ever soared. Such is the judgment of Scaliger, who seldom praises without reason.— San. 8 Maecenas could command the prospect of the three cities which Horace names, from his house on the Esquiline hill, where Nero afterward sat to behold the burning of Rome. The fall of houses was so frequent, occasioned by their being built so high, that Augustus published a law which forbade them to be raised above seventy feet. 17 We may compute how great the noise of a city must have been which reckoned three millions of inhabitants, whose ci*- BOOK III.-ODE XXIX. 139 Where health-preserving plainness dwells, Nor sleeps upon the Tyrian die, 20 To frugal treats, and humble cells, With grateful change the wealthy fly. Such scenes have charm’d the pangs of care, And smooth’d the clouded forehead of despair. Andromeda’s conspicuous sire 25 Now darts his hidden beams from far; The lion shows his madd’ning fire, And barks fierce Procyon’s raging star, While Phoebus, with revolving ray, Brings back the burnings of the thirsty day. 30 Fainting beneath the swelt’ring heat, To cooling streams and breezy shades The shepherd and his flocks retreat, While rustic sylvans seek the glades, Silent the brook its borders laves, 35 Nor curls one vagrant breath of wind the waves. But you for Rome’s imperial state, Attend with ever-watchful care, Or, for the world’s uncertain fate Alarm’d, with ceaseless terror fear; 40 Anxious what eastern wars impend, Or what the Scythians in their pride intend. But Jove, in goodness ever wise, Hath hid, in clouds of depthless night cuit, according to Pliny, including the suburbs, was forty-eight miles; and where the houses might be raised seven stories, each of them ten feet high. Lampridius tells us that Helioga- balus collected ten thousand pounds weight of cobwebs in Rome. 37 This is a noble compliment, that while all nature is lan¬ guishing in idleness and inactivity ; while the gods themselves are asleep, yet Maecenas is always vigilant; always anxious for the safety of Rome and of the empire. The gods may sleep, since Maecenas watches over the safety of the state. 140 HORACE. All that in future prospect lies 45 Beyond the ken of mortal sight, And laughs to see vain man oppress’d With idle fears, and more than man distress’d- Then wisely form the present hour; Enjoy the bliss that it bestows; ' 50 The rest is all beyond our power, And like the changeful Tiber flows, Who now beneath his banks subsides, And peaceful to his native ocean glides; But when descends a sudden shower, 55 And wild provokes his silent flood, The mountains hear the torrent roar, And echoes shake the neighbouring wood, Then swoin with rage he sweeps away Uprooted trees, herds, dwellings to the sea, 60 Happy the man, and he alone, Who, master of himself, can say, To-day at least hath been my own, For I have clearly lived to-day : Then let to-morrow’s clouds arise, 65 Or purer suns o’erspread the cheerful skies. Not Jove himself can now make void The joy that wing’d the flying hour; The certain blessing once enjoy’d, Is safe beyond the godhead’s power: 70 Nought can recall the acted scene, What hath been, spite of Jove himself, hath been. But Fortune, ever-changing dame, Indulges her malicious joy. And constant plays her haughty game, 75 Proud of her office to destroy; 52 This description of the Tiber is a perfect image of the vi cissitudes of human life, and the moral of it is animated with A poetical spirit, which gives it life and being BOOK III.-ODE XXX. 141 To-day to me her bounty flows, And now to others she the bliss bestows. I can applaud her while she stays, But if she shake her rapid wings, 80 I can resign with careless ease The richest gifts her favour brings ; Then folded lie in Virtue’s arms, And honest Poverty’s undower’d charms. Though the mast howl beneath the wind, 85 I make no mercenary prayers. Nor with the gods a bargain bind With future vows, and streaming tears, To save my wealth from adding more To boundless ocean’s avaricious store; 90 Then in my little barge I’ll ride, Secure amid the foamy wave, Calm will I stem the threatening tide, And fearless all its tumults brave; Even then perhaps some kinder gale, 95 While the twin stars appear, shall fill my joyful sail. ODE XXX.—TO MELPOMENE. Horace promises himself an immortality of fame from his poetical writings. More durable than brass, the frame Which here I consecrate to Fame; Higher than pyramids that rise. With royal pride, to brave the skies ; Nor years, though numberless the train, 5 Nor flight of seasons, wasting rain, Nor winds, that loud in tempests break, Shall e’er its firm foundation shake. Nor shall the funeral pyre consume My fame; that nobler part shall bloom, 10 142 HORACE. With youth unfading shall improve, While to th’ immortal fane of Jove The vestal maids, in silent state Ascending, on the pontiff wait. With rapid course and deaf’ning waves 15 Where Aufidus impetuous raves, And where a poor, enervate stream From banish’d Daunus takes its name, O’er warlike realms who fix’d his throne, Shall Horace, deathless bard, be known, 20 Who first attempted to inspire With Grecian sounds the Roman lyre. With conscious pride, oh muse divine J Assume the honours justly thine: With laurel wreaths my head surround, Such as the god of verse have crown’d. 25 14 The pontiff or high-ppest alone pronounced any word concerning religion in public sacrifices, and the vestal virgin^ who attended him to the capitol, were obliged to preserve solemn silence.— San. fiOOK IV. ODE I.—TO VENUS.* f la this ode the poet intimates that he had arrived at an age' when he ought no longer to think of love. Again new tumults fire my breast! Ah! spare me, Venus; let thy suppliant rest. I am no more, alas! the swain I was in Cynara’s indulgent reign. Fierce mother of the Loves, no more 5 Attempt to bend me to thy charming power, Harden’d with age; but swift repair Where youth invokes thee with the soothing prayer. Would you inflame with young desire A bosom worthy of thy purest fire, 10 To Paulus guide, a welcome guest, Thy purple swans, and revel in his breast. Of noble birth, and graceful made, Nor silent when affliction claims his aid, He, with a hundred conquering arts, 15 Shall wave thy banners Wide o’er female hearts. When more successful he shall prove, And laugh at rivals, who with gifts make love, Thou in a citron dome shalt stand, Form’d by the sculptor’s animating hand. 20 There shall th’ abundant incense flame, And thou transported quaff the rising stream; * The greater part of the odes in this book were written in the last five or sit years of our poet’s life.— Dae. 3 Horace had solemnly renounced all his gallantries at the age of forty, but he afterward fell in love with Glycera, and at fifty years of age is again engaged in his present passion.^i?^. 144 HORACE. There shall the powers of music join. And raise the song with harmony divine : There shall the youths and virgins pay 25 To thee their grateful offerings twice a day ; Like Salian priests the dance shall lead, And many a mazy measure round thee tread. For me, alas ! those joys are o’er; For me the vernal garland blooms no more; 30 No more the feats of wine I prove, Nor the delusive hopes of mutual love. Yet why, ah ! fair one, still too dear, Steals down my cheek th’ involuntary tear? Or, why thus falter o’er my tongue 35 The words, which once harmonious pour’d along? Swift through the fields and flowing streams I follow thee in visionary dreams ; Now, now I seize, 1 clasp thy charms, And now you burst, ah, cruel! from my arms. 40 ODE II.—TO ANTONIUS IULUS.* Horace, being desired to celebrate the victories of Augustus in Pindaric verse, excuses himself in such a manner, that the very excuse performs what he seems to decline. He, who to Pindar’s height attempts to rise, Like Icarus, with waxen pinions tries His pathless way, and from the venturous theme Falling shall leave to azure seas his name. * The emperor had been in Gaul, where his presence put a slop to the progress of the Sicambri, and supported the con¬ quests of Tiberius and Drusus over the Rhseti and Vindelici. He was expected with much impatience at Rome, where a magnificent triumph was preparing for him. The return of this prince after a campaign so glorious gave occasion to our poet to compose four odes, in which we see that the maturity of an ad¬ vanced age had not lessened the fire of his earliest youth. We are indebted for the first two to lulus Antonius, who had engaged him to write them ; and Augustus was so charmed with them that he proposed the subject of the two others himself.— San. BOOK IV.-ODE II. 145 As when a river, swoln by sudden showers, 5 O’er its known banks from some steep mountain pours; So in profound immeasurable song The deep-mouth’d Pindar, foaming, pours along. Well he deserves Apollo’s laurell’d crown; Whether new words he rolls enraptured down 10 Impetuous through the dithyrambic strains, Free from all laws but what himself ordains: Whether in lofty tone sublime he sings The immortal gods, or god-descended kings, With death deserved who smote the centaurs dire, 15 And quench’d the fierce Chimera’s breath of fire ; Or whom th’ Olympic palm, celestial prize ! Victorious crowns, and raises to the skies, Wrestler or steed—with honours, that outlive The mortal fame which thousand statues give : 20 Or mourns some hapless youth in plaintive lay, From his fond, weeping bride, ah ! torn away ; His manners pure, his courage, and his name, Snatch’d from the grave, he vindicates to fame. 11 This character of Pindar particularly regards his dithyram- bics; and the judgment of Horace is tfie judgment of all an¬ tiquity. Plato, whom we can hardly suspect of flattering the poets, acknowledges in Pindar something above mortal; and Alexander had so great respect for his memory, that when he took the city of Thebes he ordered the house in which the poet had lived to be preserved, and saved all who remained of his family from the general massacre.— San. 19 When Pytheas had conquered in the Nemsean games, his friends desired Pindar to write an ode on his victory. The poet demanding three minae, (somewhat about ten pounds,) they told him they could erect a statue of brass at that price. Sometime afterward they acknowledged their fault, and gave him what he asked, on which he began his ode in this manner *— It is not mine, with forming hand To make a lifeless image stand For ever on its base ; But fly, my verses, and proclaim To distant realms, with deathless fame That Pytheas conquer’d in the rapid race. Hor. Vol. I.—N 146 HORACE. Thus, when the Theban swan attempts the skies, A nobler gale of rapture bids him rise ; 26 But like a bee, which through the breezy groves With feeble wing and idle murmurs roves, Sits on the bloom, and with unceasing toil From thyme sweet-breathing culls his flowery spoil; So I, weak bard ! round Tibur’s lucid spring, 31 Of humbler strain laborious verses sing. ’Tis thine with deeper hand to strike the lyre When CcEsar shall his raptured bard inspire ; And crown’d with laurel, well-eam’d meed of war, Drag the fierce Gaul at his triumphal car. 36 Than whom the gods ne’er gave, or bounteous fate, To humankind a gift more good or great, Nor from the treasures shall again unfold, Though time roll backward to his ancient gold. 40 Be thine the festal days, the city’s joys, The forum silenced from litigious noise ; The public games for Caesar safe restored, A blessing oft with pious vows implored. Then, if my voice can reach the glorious theme, Then will I sing, amid the loud acclaim— 46 “ Hail, brightest sun ! in Rome’s fair annals shine ; Caesar returns—eternal praise be thine.” As the procession awful moves along, Let shouts of triumph fill our joyful song; 50 Repeated shouts of triumph Rome shall raise, And to the bounteous gods our altars blaze. Of thy fair herds twice ten shall grateful bleed, While I, with pious care, one steerling feed: Wean’d from the dam, o’er pastures large he roves, And for my vows his rising youth he proves : 56 His horns like Luna’s bending fires appear, When the third night she rises to her sphere ; And, yellow all the rest, one spot there glows Full in his front, and bright as winter snows. 60 44 During the absence of Augustus vows were made to the gods for his return, which the new consuls repeated in 741, by decree of the senate, as appears by medals and inscriptions.— 1'orr. BOOK IV.-ODE III. 147 ODE HI.—TO MELPOMENE.* Horace attributes his place and rank among poets to the favour of Melpomene. He, on whose natal hour the queen Of verse hath smiled, shall never grace The Isthmian gauntlet, or be seen First in the famed Olympic race : He shall not after toils of war, 5 And taming haughty monarchs’ pride, With laurell’d brows conspicuous far, To Jove’s Tarpeian temple ride : But him, the streams which warbling flow Rich Tibur’s fertile vales along, 10 And shady groves, his haunts, shall know The master of th’ JEolian song. The sons of Rome, majestic Rome ! Have placed me in the poet’s quire, And envy, now or dead or dumb, 15 Forbears to blame what they admire. Goddess of the sweet-sounding lute, Which thy harmonious touch obeys, Who canst the finny race, though mute, To cygnet’s dying accents raise, 20 Thy gift it is, that all, with ease, Me prince of Roman lyrics own ; That while I live my numbers please, If pleasing, is thy gift alone. * They who have taste for whatever is delicate and natural in poetry ; for whatever is noble and elegant in style, or flowing and harmonious in numbers, must acknowledge that there is not anything in Greek or Latin more finished and complete than this poem. Such is the judgment of all the commentators ; but Scaliger is so charmed with it, that he assures us he would rather have been author of it than be king of Arragon. 21 The praises which Horace gives himself in this ode are happily tempered by his acknowledgments that all his poetical abilities are a present from the muses. We should allow some¬ thing for this instance of modesty, because it is not usually a favourite virtue among poets.— San. 148 HORACE. ODE IV.—'THE PRAISES OF DRUSUS.* Horace celebrates the victory of Drusus over the Vindelici. As the majestic bird of towering kind, Who bears the thunder through th’ ethereal space, (To whom the monarch of the gods assign’d Dominion o’er the vagrant feather’d race, His faith approved, when to the distant skies 5 From Ida’s top he bore the Phrygian prize,) Sprung from his nest, by sprightly youth inspired, Fledged, and exulting in his native might, Novice to toils, but as the clouds retired, And gentler gales provoked a bolder flight, 10 On sailing wings through yielding air explored Unwonted paths, and panted while he soar’d: Anon to ravage in the fleecy fold The glowing ardour of his youthful heart Pour’d the beak’d foe ; now more maturely bold 15 With talons fierce precipitate to dart On dragons fell, reluctant in the fray; Such is his thirst for battle and for prey: * This poem is so perfectly finished, that it has disarmed even the terrible criticism of Scaliger, and obliged him to con¬ fess that Horace excels himself and all Greece in this whole ode. The first part of it is of a strain almost beyond Pindaric ; the middle is elevated by a noble, just, pathetic morality; and the conclusion is wrought with a masculine and vehement elo¬ quence. 1 Pliny tells us that the fiction of the eagle’s carrying Jupi¬ ter’s thunder was founded on an experience that this is the only bird never destroyed by lightning. But this experience appears very doubtful, and the title seems rather to be given it for its re¬ markable strength and swiftness. It was employed to carry Ganymede to heaven, whom the gods, as Xenophon informs us, thought worthy of immortality for an understanding and wisdom far above his age. 17 Pliny describes an eagle’s combat with a dragon as most BOOK IV.-ODE IV. 149 Or as a lion through the forest stalks, Wean’d by his tawny dam from milky food ; 20 A goat descries him from her flowery walks, First doom’d to stain his jmuthful jaws with blood: So Drusus look’d tremendous to his foes, Beneath the frozen height of Alpine snows. The Rhaetian bands beheld him such in war, 25 Those daring bands, who with triumphant joy Were wont to spread their baneful terrors far, Tamed by the conduct of the martial boy, Felt what true courage could achieve when led By bright example, and by virtue bred; 30 Felt how Augustus with paternal mind Fired the young Neros to heroic deeds— The brave and good are copies of their kind: In steers laborious, and in generous steeds We trace their sires; nor can the bird of Jove 35 Intrepid, fierce, beget th’ unwarlike dove. Yet sage instructions to refine the soul, And raise the genius, wondrous aid impart, Conveying, inward as they purely roll, Strength to the mind, and vigour to the heart: 40 W T hen morals fail, the stains of vice disgrace The fairest honours, and the noblest race. How much the grandeur of thy rising state Owes to the Neros, Rome imperial, say; doubtful and dangerous. The dragon, by a malignant avidity, searches for an eagle’s eggs, who therefore seizes him, wher¬ ever they meet. But the dragon rolling himself round his wings, they frequently fall down together to the earth. 31 Tiberius Nero died in the same year in which he had yielded his wife Livia to Augustus, and by his last will named that prince, not only a guardian of Tiberius, who was then four years old, but of Drusus, who was born three months after his mother was married to Augustus. In this manner the emperor was a second father to both the Neros. N 2 150 HORACE. Witness Metaunis, and the dismal fate 45 Of vanquish’d Asdrubal, and that glad day Which first auspicious, as the darkness fled, O’er Latium’s face a tide of glory shed. Resistless in his rage, before that day The Carthaginian with vindictive ire 50 Through our fair cities urged his cruel way, As through the pitchy pines destructive fire Devours its course; or as when Eurus raves, And howling rides the mad Sicilian waves. The Roman youth, improving by their toils, 55 W T ith better fate now wield the vengeful sword, And see those temples, which were once the spoils Of Tyrian rapine, to their gods restored; 45 Claudius Nero being encamped in Lucania in view of Han¬ nibal, went with six thousand foot and a thousand horse to join his colleague Salinator, and oppose the passage of Asdrubal, who was bringing a considerable reinforcement to his brother. This diligence preserved Italy, for Asdrubal was defeated near the river Metaurus, and Nero, returning to his camp before the Car¬ thaginians perceived he had been absent, ordered Asdrubal’s head to be thrown into Hannibal’s camp, who cried out, “ I acknow¬ ledge the fate of Carthage.” Horace has chosen this action, not only because it was one of the most important performed by the family, but because Drusus and Tiberius were descended from both these consuls. Va¬ lerius Maximus, speaking of the quarrel between these two great men during their censorship, cries out, with reason, “If any god had told them that their blood, after having flowed through the veins of so many illustrious persons, should unite to form our prince, Tiberius, the safety of the state, they would have renounced their hatred, and joined in the strictest amity, that they might leave to their common descendant their country to be preserved, which they themselves had preserved.” — Dac. 47 This day really dissipated the darkness which covered Italy. The Romans had been defeated in several battles, and if Asdrubal had joined his brother, the fate of Rome had been inevitable. In all authors the word darkness signifies misfor¬ tune, ruin, and perdition; as the word light is used to express happiness, victory, and safety.— Dac. BOOK y.-ODE IV. 151 When faithless Hannibal at length express’d The boding sorrows of his anxious breast: 60 “ Like stags, of coward kind, the destined prey Of rav’ning wolves, we unprovoked defy Those, whom to baffle is our fairest play, The richest triumph we can boast, to fly. For mark that race, which to the Latian shore 65 Their gods, their sons, their sires, intrepid bore. “That race,long toss’d upon the Tuscan waves, Are like an oak upon the woody top Of shaded Algidus, imbrown’d with leaves, Which, as keen axes its green honours lop, 70 Through wounds, through losses no decay can feel, Collecting strength and spirit from the steel. “Not Hydra stronger, when dismember’d, rose Against Alcmena’s much-enduring son, Grieving to find, from his repeated blows, 75 The foe redoubled, and his toil begun: Nor Colchis teem’d, nor Echionian Thebes A feller monster from their bursting glebes. “ In ocean plunge them, they emerge more bright; At arms oppose them in the dusty field, 80 With routed squadrons they renew the fight; And force your yet unbroken troops to yield, And battles wage, to be the future boast Of their proud consorts o’er our vanquish’d ho§t. “ To lofty Carthage 1 no more shall send 85 Vaunts of my deeds, and heralds of my fame; 61 Thiseulogium of the Romans is in itself magnificent, but it becomes infinitely more valuable in the mouth of Hannibal. — San. 65 The Trojans collected strength from their misfortunes, and the poet shows, by this instance of Hannibal, that the Ro mans had not degenerated from their ancestors. 85 After the battle of Cannae, Hannibal sent his brother Mago 152 HORACE. My boundless hopes, alas! are at an end, With all the flowing fortune of our name : Those boundless hopes, that flowing fortune, all Are dash’d, and buried in my brother’s fall. 90 The Claudian race, those favourites of the skies, No toil shall damp, no fortitude withstand; Superior they to difficulties rise, Whom Jove protects with an indulgent hand; Whom cautious cares, preventing wiles afar, 95 Guide through the perils of tumultuous war. to Carthage with the news of his victory. He talked in very pompous terms of Hannibal’s success, and ordered all the rings which had been taken from the Roman knights to be thrown be¬ fore the gate of the senate-house, that the senators might com¬ pute from thence the number of the slain. To this story the poet alludes.— Lamb. 91 By the first actions of Drusus, the poet judges that there was not any success which the Romans might not promise themselves from the valour of this young prince. He founds his prediction on the protection of the gods, who were the pe¬ culiar guardians of his house, and on the virtues which Drusus had shown in such dangerous occasions. Thus he gives us a noble precept of morality, that in affairs, in which we are best assured of the assistance of the gods, we ought not to neglect whatever depends on our own labours to procure success.— San. ODE V.—TO AUGUSTUS.* Horace implores Augustus to return into the city as soon as possible. Propitious to the sons of earth (Best guardian of the Roman state, * We cannot imagine anything more tender than the senti¬ ments of this ode, in which the poet not only shows the love and veneration of the Romans for Augustus, and with what im- E atience they wish for his return, but tells him why they adore im, and by this means draws a beautiful picture of that happi¬ ness which they enjoyed under his reign. BOOK IV. —ODE V. 153 The heavenly powers beheld thy birth, And form’d thee glorious, good, and great; Rome and her holy fathers cry, thy stay 5 Was promised short, ah! wherefore this delay 1 Come, then, auspicious prince, and bring To thy long gloomy country light, For in thy countenance the spring Shines forth to cheer thy people’s sight; 10 Then hasten thy return, for, thou away, Nor lustre has the sun, nor joy the day. As a fond mother views with fear The terrors of the rolling main, While envious winds, beyond his year, 15 From his loved home her son detain; To the good gods with fervent prayer she cries, And catches every omen as it flies; Then anxious listens to the roar Of winds, that loudly sweep the sky; 20 Nor, fearful, from the winding shore Can ever turn her longing eye: Smit with as faithful, and as fond desires, Impatient Rome her absent lord requires. Safe by thy cares her oxen graze, 25 And yellow Ceres clothes her fields: The sailor ploughs the peaceful seas, And earth her rich abundance yields; 25 The reasons of that love which the Romans had for Au¬ gustus, were the peace and happiness of his reign; and how¬ ever beautiful the picture is, we cannot say there is any flattery in it ; at least, historians speak in the same language. In his twentieth year, says Velleius, all his wars, both civil and foreign, were ended. Peace returned, the fury of arms ceased, the laws resumed their power, justice recovered its authority, the senate its majesty. The ancient form of the republic was restored, the fields began to be cultivated, religion to be revered, and every man’s property secured. 154 HORACE. While nobly conscious of unsullied fame, Fair honour dreads th’ imputed sense of blame. 30 By thee our wedded dames are pure From foul adultery’s embrace ; The conscious father views secure His own resemblance in his race : Thy chaste example quells the spotted deed, 35 And to the guilt thy punishments succeed. Who shall the faithless Parthian dread, The freezing armies of the north, The enormous youth, to battle bred, Whom horrid Germany brings forth! 40 Who shall regard the war of cruel Spain, If Caesar live secure, if Caesar reign! Safe in his vineyard toils the hind, Weds to the widow’d elm his vine, Till the sun sets his hill behind; 45 Then hastens joyful to his wine, And in his gayer hours of mirth implores Thy godhead to protect and bless his stores. To thee he chants the sacred song, To thee the rich libation pours, 50 Thee, placed his household gods among, With solemn, daily prayer adores ; So Castor and great Hercules of old Were with her gods by grateful Greece enroll’d. Gracious and good, beneath thy reign 55 May Rome her happy hours employ, 37 Augustus had either subdued or reduced to peace the whole east, north, and west. The east is marked by Parthia ; the north by Scythia and Germany; and the west by Spain. Dion reckons the reduction of Spain, by sending colonies thither, to be one of the happiest successes of Augustus in this expedition BOOK IV.-ODE VII. 155 And grateful hail thy just domain With pious hymns and festal joy ’ Thus, with the rising sun we sober pray, Thus, in our wine, beneath his setting ray. 60 [The reader will find ode vi. in the first concert, and first chorus of youths and virgins, in the Secular Poem, at the end of the odes.] ODE VII.—TO TORQUATUS. Horace exhorts Torquatus to live in a cheerful and joyous manner, by representing to him the certainty of death. The snow dissolves, the field its verdure spreads, The trees high wave in air their leafy heads ; Earth feels the change ; the rivers calm subside, And smooth along their banks decreasing glide ; The elder grace, with her fair sister-train, 5 In naked beauty dances o’er the plain. The circling hours, that swiftly wing their way, And in their flight consume the smiling day; Those circling hours, and all the various year, Convince us nothing is immortal here. 10 In vernal gales cold winter melts away; Soon wastes the spring in summer’s burning ray; Yet summer dies in autumn’s fruitful reign, And slow-paced winter soon returns again. The moon renews her orb with growing light; 15 But when we sink into the depths of night, 1 Horace does not amuse himself in describing the spring. His aim is to convince Torquatus that everything around us puts us in mind of death. He sets before him the various changes that happen in nature, and the vicissitudes of the seasons, ac¬ cording to the precepts of a philosophy which pretends that a remembrance of death is a most pressing motive to our pursuit of pleasure. This doctrine might be well received if it were confined within its proper bounds.— Dac. 16 The seasons return and are renewed, but man dies once, and for ever. There is a beautiful passage in the third Idyllium 156 HORACE. Where all the good, the rich, the brave are laid, Our best remains are ashes and a shade. Who knows, that heaven, with ever-bounteous power, Shall add to-morrow to the present hour 1 20 The wealth you give to pleasure and delight, Far from thy ravening heir shall speed its flight: But soon as Minos, throned in awful state, Shall o’er thee speak the solemn words of fate, Nor virtue, birth, nor eloquence divine, 25 Shall bid the grave its destined prey resign: Nor chaste Diana from infernal night Could bring her modest favourite back to light; And hell-descending Theseus strove in vain To break his amorous friend’s Lethean chain. 30 of Moschus on the death of Bion, which perhaps our poet had in view :— Our plants and trees revive ; the breathing rose, With annual youth, in pride of beauty glows ; But when the masterpiece of nature dies, Man, who alone is great, and brave, and wise, No more he rises to the realms of light, But sleeps unwaking in eternal night. 19 This is a second motive to persuade Torquatus not to neglect any opportunity of pleasure. It is even more pressing than the first; for to represent to a man that he shall certainly die hereafter, is not so forcible a manner of forbidding him enjoy the present hour, as if he told him perhaps he may die to-mor¬ row. To defer our pleasures is probably to lose them for ever, and death is a law whiqh nature publishes through all her works.— Dac. ODE VIII.—TO CENSORINUS.* The design of this ode is to show that the gift of immortality is in the power of the poets. With liberal heart to every friend A bowl or caldron would I send ; * This ode was written either in the time of the Saturnalia, BOOK IV.-ODE VIII. 157 Or tripods, which the Grecians gave, As rich rewards to heroes brave ; Nor should the meanest gift be thine, 5 If the rich works of art were mine, By Scopas, or Parrhasius wrought, With animating skill who taught The shapeless stone with life to glow, Or bade the breathing colours flow, 10 To imitate in every line, The form or human or divine. But 1 nor boast the curious store, And you nor want, nor wish for more ; ’Tis yours the joys of verse to know, 15 Such joys as Horace can bestow, While I can vouch my present’s worth, And call its every virtue forth. Nor columns, which the public raise, Engraved with monumental praise, 20 By which the breath of life returns To heroes, sleeping in their urns : Nor Hannibal, when swift he fled, His threats retorted on his head, Nor impious Carthage wrapt in flame, 25 From whence great Scipio gain’d a name, when it was customary among the Romans to send presents to their friends, or in return for something valuable, which Horace had received from Censorinus, and for which he sends him a copy of verses. Such has been the poet’s manner in all ages of paying his debts of gratitude to his friends. 24 The threats of Hannibal, driven back from Italy, when he was obliged to fly to the defence of Carthage.— Bond. 26 Scipio was the first of the Romans who was honoured with the name of a conquered country. Sempronius Gracchus must be an unsuspected witness to his character. He says that he subdued Africa; defeated in Spain four of the most famous generals ; took Syphax prisoner in Numidia ; vanquished Han¬ nibal ; rendered Carthage tributary to Rome; and obliged An- tiochus to retire on the other side of Mount Taurus.— Torr. Ennius, who celebrated the actions of this hero, was born in Calabria, from whence this expression, “ The Calabrian muses." Hor. Vol. I.—O 158 HORACE. Such glories round him could diffuse As the Calabrian poet’s muse ; And should the bard his aid deny, Thy worth shall unrewarded die. 30 Had envious silence left unsung The child from Mars and Ilia sprung, How had we known the hero’s fame, From whom the Roman empire camel The poet’s favour, voice, and lays, 35 Could Abacus from darkness raise, Snatch’d from the Stygian gulfs of hell, Among the blissful isles to dwell. The muse forbids the brave to die, The muse enthrones him in the sky; 40 Alcides, thus, in heaven is placed, And shares with Jove the immortal feast; Thus the twin-stars have power to save The shatter’d vessel from the wave, And vine-crown’d Bacchus with success 45 His jovial votaries can bless. ODE IX.—TO LOLLIUS.* The poet endeavours, by his verses, to rescue Lollius’ name from oblivion. While with the Grecian bards I vie, And raptured tune the social string, Think not the song shall ever die, Which with no vulgar art I sing, We have some fragments of his works, which show a strong and masculine spirit, but rude and uncultivated. * Horace in this ode celebrates the character of a hero; a man of integrity, of disinterested honesty, and a lover of his country; yet the subject of all these praises was a coward, a villain, a miser, and a traitor. Lollius had an appearance of virtue ; nor should we wonder that he had imposed on Horace, since even Augustus was long deceived by him. They who are acquainted with courts are convinced that such characters are not uncommon.— Torr. San BOOK IV.-ODE IX. 159 Though bom where Aufid rolls his sounding stream, In lands far distant from poetic fame. 6 ( What though the muse her Homer thrones High above all th’ immortal choir, Nor Pindar’s rapture she disowns, Nor hides the plaintive Caean lyre ? 10 Alcaeus strikes the tyrant’s soul with dread, Nor yet is grave Stesichorus unread. Whatever old Anaceron sung, However tender was the lay, In spite of time is ever young, 15 Nor Sappho’s amorous flames decay; Her living songs preserve their charming art, Her love still breathes the passions of her heart. Helen was not the only fair By an unhappy passion fired, 20 Who the lewd ringlets of the hair Of an adulterous beau admired; Court arts, gold lace, and equipage have charms To tempt weak woman to a stranger’s arms. Nor first from Teucer’s vengeful bow 25 The feather’d death unerring flew, Nor was the Greek the single foe Whose rage ill-fated Ilion knew ; 5 Our poet’s country was formerly wild and uncultivated, where neither poet nor poetry had ever appeared. Horace therefore mentions it as matter of peculiar honour to his works, that they should live for ever, although produced in a country unknown to Apollo and the muses.— Dae. 9 The great idea which Horace had of Pindar did not hinder him from allowing the superiority of Homer; and on the con¬ trary, the g;reat veneration which he had for Homer did not prejudice him against the real merit of Pindar.— Dac. 13 This is whole Anacreon at one stroke. No poet better knew how to sport and trifle with a natural elegance and deli¬ cacy. His poems are instant productions of imagination rather 160 HORACE. Greece had with heroes fill’d th’ embattled plain, Worthy the muse in her sublimest strain. 30 Nor Hector first transported heard With fierce delight the war’s alarms, Nor brave Deiphobus appear’d Amid the tented field in arms, With glorious ardour prodigal of life, 35 To guard a darling son and faithful wife. Before great Agamemnon reign’d, Reign’d kings as great as he, and brave, Whose huge ambition’s now contain’d In the small compass of a grave : 40 In endless night they sleep, unwept, unknown, No bard had they to make all time their own. In earth if it forgotten lies, What is the valour of the brave ? What difference, when the coward dies, 45 And sinks in silence to his grave ? Nor, Lollius, will I not thy praise proclaim, But from oblivion vindicate thy fame. Nor shall its livid power conceal Thy toils—how glorious to the state! 50 How constant to the public weal Through all the doubtful turns of fate ! Thy steady soul, by long experience found Erect, alike when fortune smiled or frown’d. than of reflection, and we can only wish that he had more re¬ spect to modesty in the pictures which he has drawn of his pleasures.— San. 47 Lollius commanded the Roman legions in Germany, Thrace, and Galatia. In the German war he lost the eagle of the fifth legion, and his defeat was called the Lollian slaughter; but he soon revenged the affront, and obliged the Germans to repass the Rhine, to demand a peace, and deliver hostages. BOOK IV.-ODE X. 161 Villains, in public rapine bold, 55 Lollius, the just avenger, dread, Who never by the charms of gold, Shining seducer! was misled; Beyond thy year such virtue shall extend, And death alone thy consulate shall end. 60 Perpetual magistrate is he, Who keeps strict justice full in sight; With scorn rejects th’ offender’s fee, Nor weighs convenience against right; Who bids the crowd at awful distance gaze, 65 And virtue’s arms victoriously displays. Not he, of wealth immense possess’d Tasteless who piles his massy gold, Among the number of the bless’d Should have his glorious name enroll’d ; 70 He better claims the glorious name who knows With wisdom to enjoy what heaven bestows : Who knows the wrongs of want to bear, Even in its lowest, last extreme ; Yet can with conscious virtue fear, 75 Far worse than death, a deed of shame; Undaunted, for his country or his friend To sacrifice his life—oh glorious end ! ODE X.—TO LIGURINUS.* The poet advises Ligurinus not to be too fond of his own person. Oh cruel still, and vain of beauty’s charms, When wintry age thy insolence disarms ; * To be vain of his personal beauty is such folly in a man, as even custom can never reconcile to us. Ligurinus was young, well made, and handsome ; yet he ruined all these advantages of nature by a ridiculous insolence, which the poet attempting to correct, represents an old, in opposition to the young, Ligu¬ rinus. He shows him that all this beauty, of which he is now so vain, shall soon fall a prey to time and age.— San. O 2 162 HORACE. When fall those locks, that on thy shoulders play, And youth’s gay roses on thy cheeks decay ; When that smooth face shall manhood’s roughness wear, 5 And in your glass another form appear, Ah ! why, you’ll say, do I now vainly burn, Or with my wishes, not my youth return 1 ODE XI.—TO PHYLLIS.* The poet invites Phyllis to an entertainment on Maecenas’s birthday. Phyllis, I have a cask of wine, Mellow’d by summers more than nine ; With living wreaths to crown our heads The parsley’s vivid verdure spreads ; To bind your hair the ivy twines ; 5 With plate my cheerful sideboard shines : W T ith vervain chaste an altar bound, Now thirsts for blood ; the victim’s crown’d. Ali hands employed with busy haste My bctys and girls prepare our feast; 10 Trembling the pointed flames arise, The smoke rolls upward to the skies ; But why this busy festal care 1 This invitation to my fair 1 * The commentators think that Phyllis to whom this ode is addressed, was a young slave whom Xanthias afterward mar¬ ried. The poet invites her to celebrate his patron’s birthday with him, and endeavours to dissuade her from indulging a pas¬ sion for Telephus, who was otherwise engaged. 4 The commentators find it difficult to assign a reason why parsley, which was an herb used in funerals, and consequently of unlucky omen, should be employed in festivals and entertain ments of pleasure. The ancients believed that it had a virtue to expel the vapours of wine, and the verdure of it made it pleasing to the eye. But as there were different kinds of it, par¬ ticularly that mentioned by Pliny, which was of a poisonous nature, it might have been differently employed, on occasions either of mirth or sadness. BOOK IV.-ODE XII. 163 This day the smiling month divides, 15 O’er which the sea-born queen presides : Sacred to me, and due to mirth, As the glad hour that gave me birth : For when this happy morn appears Maecenas counts a length of years 20 To roll in bright succession round, With every joy and blessing crown’d. Gay Telephus exults above The humble fortunes of thy love; A rich and buxom maid detains 25 His captive heart in willing chains. The youth, destroy’d by heavenly fire, Forbids ambition to aspire; And Pegasus, who scorn’d to bear His earth-born rider through the air, 30 A dread example hath supplied To check the growth of human pride, And caution my presumptuous fair To grasp at things within her sphere. Come, then, my latest love, (for I 35 Shall never for another die,) Come learn with me to newer lays Thy voice of harmony to raise. The soothing song, and charming air Shall lessen every gloomy care. 40 16 April was called the month of Venus, because her grand festival began on the first day of that month.— San. ODE XII.—TO VIRGIL. Horace invites Virgil to supper, on condition that he contribute something towards the entertainment. Companions of the spring, the Thracian winds With kindly breath now drive the bark from shore; No frost, with hoary hand, the meadow binds; Nor swoln with winter snow the torrents roar. 164 HORACE. The swallow, hapless bird ! now builds her nest, 5 And in complaining notes begins to sing, That, with revenge too cruelly possess’d, Impious she punish’d an incestuous king. Stretch’d on the springing grass, the shepherd swain His reedy pipe with rural music fills : 10 The god who guards his flock approves the strain, The god who loves Arcadia’s gloomy hills. Virgil, ’tis thine, with noble youths to feast; Yet, since the thirsty season calls for wine, Would you a cup of generous Bacchus taste, 15 Bring you the odours, and a cask is thine. Thy little box of spikenard shall produce A mighty cask, that in the cellar lies ; Big with large hopes shall flow th’ inspiring juice, Powerful to sooth our griefs, and raise our joys. 20 If pleasures such as these can charm thy soul, Bring the glad merchandise, with sweets replete ; Nor empty-handed shall you touch the bowl, Nor do I mean, like wealthy folk, to treat. Think on the gloomy pile’s funereal flames, 25 And be no more with sordid lucre blind; Mix a short folly, that unbends the mind. 6 The mythologists have spoken of Progne and Philomela m a manner very little uniform. The generally received opin¬ ion at present is that Progne was changed into a swallow, and Philomela into a nightingale; but the diversity of opinions among the ancients has given the poets a right of varying the fable. Virgil in the sixth eclogue changes Philomela into a swallow ; and in the fourth book of his Georgies he makes her a nightingale.— Torr. 22 The poet considers the part every person furnishes to¬ wards an entertainment as a kind of merchandise, which part¬ ners in trade throw into a common stock, that they may divide the profits.— San. BOOK IV.-ODE XIII. 165 ODE XIII.—TO LYCE.* The poet insults Lyce, on being the contempt of the young fellows. The gods, the gods have heard my prayer, See, Lyce, see that hoary hair; Yet you a toast would shine : You impudently drink and joke, And with a broken voice provoke 5 Desires no longer thine. Cupid, who joys in dimple sleek, Now lies in blooming Chia’s cheek, Who tunes the melting lay ; From blasted oaks the wanton flies, 10 Scared at thy wrinkles, haggard eyes, And head snow’d o’er with gray. Nor glowing purple, nor the blaze Of jewels, can restore the days; To thee those days of glory, 15 Which, wafted on the wings of time, Even from thy birth to beauty’s prime, Recorded stand in story. Ah! whither is thy Venus fled? That bloom by nature’s cunning spread 1 20 That every graceful art ? * This ode is a proof that wit and honour are not always companions. Lyce had in her youth refused our poet’s ad¬ dresses, and he now insults her in a cruel outrageous manner, on the approach of age and ugliness. The piece is animated ; its allegories just; the versification harmonious, and expression exact: the great poet everywhere appears; but we search in vain and with concern for the man of honour. His interpreters have endeavoured to excuse him for a conduct, which polite¬ ness and morality equally condemn; but without examining the validity of their excuses, it were better that Horace did not need their justification.— San. I 166 HORACE. Of her, of her what now remains, Who breathed the loves, who charm’d the swains, And snatch’d me from my heart? Once happy maid ! in pleasing - guiles, 25 Who vied with Cynara in smiles, Ah! tragical survival! She glorious died in beauty’s bloom, While cruel fate defers thy doom To be the raven’s rival. 30 That youths, in fervent wishes bold, Not without laughter may behold A torch, whose early fire Could every breast with love inflame, Now faintly spread a sickly gleam, 35 And in a smoke expire. ODE XIV.—TO AUGUSTUS.* In this ode Horace ascribes the victories of Drusus and Ti¬ berius to the auspices and success of Augustus. ■ How shall our holy senate’s care Or Rome with grateful joy prepare * Augustus had commanded our poet to celebrate the vic¬ tories of Drusus and Tiberius over the Rhaeti and Vindelici; and as Tiberius might have been displeased that he had not been mentioned in the fourth ode of this book, he is here dis¬ tinguished in a particular manner. The praises of Drusus are confounded with those of other heroes in the Claudian family, but Tiberius is associated with Augustus. The two pieces are of the same character, and equally animated by a greatness of sentiments, a sublimity of style, and all other beauties of poetry. — Sanadon. 1 When Horace wrote this ode the senate and people had granted all honours to Augustus which could be decreed, not only to a man, but to a god ; yet Horace demands by what new cares, by what, new dignities, they shall eternize his virtues, and assure to him that immortality which he had merited BOOK IV.-ODE XIV. 167 Thy monumental honours, big with fame, And in her festal annals eternize thy name 1 Oh thou, where Sol with varied rays 5 The habitable globe surveys, Greatest of princes, whose vindictive war First broke th’ unconquer’d Gaul to thy triumphal car! For when thy legions Drusus led, How swift the rapid Brenni fled! 10 The rough Genauni fell, and raised in vain Tremendous on the Alps, twice overwhelm’d the plain Their haughty towers. With just success While the good gods thy battle bless, Our elder Nero smote with deep dismay 15 The Rhaetians, huge of bulk, and broke their firm array. Conspicuous in the martial strife, And nobly prodigal of life, With what prodigious ruins he oppress’d For glorious liberty the death-devoted breast! 20 As when the Pleiads rend the skies In mystic dance, the winds arise, There is somewhat infinitely noble in this demand, and Horace alone seems capable of adding whatever was yet wanting to the glory of Augustus.— Dac. 11 Strabo, speaking of the cruelty of this people, tells us that when they had taken a town in war, they were not contented to put to the sword all the men who were capable of bearing arms, but killed all male children, and even women big with child, if their priest assured them that it was a boy!— Dac. 12 Horace would describe two different actions of Drusus in the same campaign. In the first he gained a victory over the Vindelici, and covered Italy from their incursions. Tiberius, who was at that time with Augustus, was sent to support his brother, who then pushed his conquests against the Vindelici, ^ the Brenni, and Genauni, when the two brothers, uniting their forces, entirely subdued the barbarians.— San. 21 This picture of the Pleiades, who rise dancing out of the ocean, and rend the clouds in performing their circuit, has something inexpressibly pleasing and noble. The PLeiades are 168 HORACE. And work the seas untamed; such was the force With which, through spreading fires, he spurr’d his foaming horse. So branching Aufidus, who laves 25 The Daunian realms, fierce rolls his waves, When to the golden labours of the swain He meditates his wrath, and deluges the plain, As Claudius, with impetuous might, Broke through the iron ranks of fight; 30 From front to rear the bloodless victor sped, Mow’d down th’ embattled field, and wide the slaughter spread. Thine were his troops, his counsels thine, And all his guardian powers divine : For since the day when Alexandria’s port 35 Open’d in suppliance low her desolated court, When thrice five times the circling sun His annual course of light had run. Fortune by this success hath crown’d thy name, Confirm’d thy glories past, and raised thy future fame. 40 Dread guardian of the imperial state, Whose presence rules thy country’s fate, On whom the Medes with awful wonder gaze, Whom unhoused Scythians fear, unconquer’d Spain obeys; The Nile, who hides his sevenfold source, 45 The Tigris, headlong in his course, a constellation of seven stars in the head of the bull, not in his tail, as Pliny believed. They are fabled to have been the seven daughters of Atlas, king of Mauritania, from whence Virgil calls them Atlantides. 45 Some Portuguese Jesuits have at length discovered the sources of the Nile, which so many ages had endeavoured to find. Properly speaking, this river has but two sources, which are two fountains, round and extremely deep, on the top of a mountain called Dengla. The river, which is formed by these fountains at some distance from the foot of the mountain, takes its course towards the east, receives three little streams, then turns to the south for twelve leagues, and afterward advances to BOOK IV.-ODE XV 169 The Danube, and the ocean wild that roars, "With monster-bearing waves, round Britain’s rocky shores. The fearless Gaul thy name reveres, Thy voice the rough Iberian hears, 50 With arms composed the fierce Sicambrians yield, Nor view, with dear delight, the carnage of the field. ODE XV.— 1 TO AUGUSTUS.* Horace dedicates this ode to Augustus, on the restoration of peace. I would have sung of battles dire, And mighty cities overthrown, When Phcsbus smote me with his lyre, And warn’d me, with an angry tone, Not to unfold my little sail, or brave 5 The boundless terrors of the Tyrrhene wave. Yet will I sing thy peaceful reign, Which crowns with fruits our happy fields, the west about twenty-five leagues. At last, flowing through Egypt, it discharges itself into the Mediterranean by two mouths.— San. * In the latter end of spring, 744, Augustus shut the temple of Janus for the third and last time, which probably gave occa¬ sion to this ode.— San. 3 Horace could not flatter Augustus more agreeably than by- representing Apollo interesting himself for his glory, and orbid- ding the poet to attempt his military actions, since it was impos¬ sible to celebrate them with a dignity equal to the subject. This address will appear more delicate and artful, if we remem¬ ber how anxious Augustus was to have it believed that Apollo was his father and protector; particularly that he fought for him at the battle of Actium.— San. 5 To attempt with his feeble genius to sing the victories of Augustus, is to venture in a little bark on a broad, tempestuous ocean. The metaphor is beautiful, the sentiment moaest, and the compliment to Augustus appears with equal truth and dig nity, for it is a compliment paid by a god. Hor. Vol. I.—P 170 HORACE. And rent from Parthia’s haughty, fane, To Roman Jove his eagles yields; 10 Augustus bids the rage of war to cease, And shuts up Janus in eternal peace. Restrain’d by arts of ancient fame, Wild license walks at large no more, Those arts, by which the Latian name, 15 The Roman strength, th’ imperial pow’r, With awful majesty unbounded spread To rising Phoebus from his western bed. While watchful Caesar guards our age, Nor civil wrath, nor loud alarms 20 Of foreign tumults, nor the rage, That joys to forge destructive arms, And ruin’d cities fills with hostile woes, Shall e’er disturb, oh Rome! thy safe repose. Nations, who quaff the rapid stream 25 Where deep the Danube rolls his wave; The Parthians, of perfidious fame, The Getae fierce, and Seres brave, And they, on Tanais who wide extend, Shall to the Julian laws reluctant bend. 30 Our wives and children share our joy, W'ith Bacchus’ jovial blessings gay; Thus we the festal hours employ, Thus grateful hail the busy day ; But first, with solemn rites the gods adore, 35 And, like our sires, their sacred aid implore ; Then vocal, with harmonious lays To Lydian flutes, of cheerful sound, 12 This temple was built by Romulus. His successor Numa put two gates to it, which were shut in peace, and opened in war. They had been twice shut before the time of Augustus, and thrice during his government. 38 In the time of Terence, the Romans had flutes which BOOK IV.-ODE XV. 171 Attemper’d sweetly, we shall raise The valiant deeds of chiefs renown’d, 40 Old Troy, Anchises, and the godlike race Of Venus, blooming with immortal grace. might properly be called Phrygian and Lydian. They were dif¬ ferent in tneir tones and number of stops. The Lydian had but one stop, and consequently was of a deep tone ; the Phrygian had two, which gave a shriller sound. But in the time of Horace all their flutes had many stops, and they called them Phrygian or Lydian, according to the measures in which they played ; for whatever change was made in the instrument they always played in the ancient measures. Thus the same flute was called Phrygian, when they played the Phrygian measure, and became Lydian, when it took the Lydian measure. This last was better suited to the voice, and as it was of a tone more loud and lively, it was proper for mirth and festivals.— Dac. t f BOOK V. ODE I.—TO MAECENAS. Horace offers to accompany Maecenas on the Actian expedition. While you, Maecenas, dearest friend, Would Caesar’s person with your own defend; And Antony’s high-tower’d fleet, With light Liburnian gallies fearless meet, What shall forsaken Horace do. 5 Whose every joy of life depends on you 1 With thee, ’tis happiness to live, And life, without thee, can no pleasure give. 1 As soon as Maecenas had received orders to hold himself in readiness to go aboard the fleet of Octavius, he imparted the news to Horace, and at the same time declared to him that he would not permit him to make this voyage with him. This declaration mortified our poet, who had attended him to the Sicilian wars against Pompey, and would gladly have shared the same dangers with him in an action which had fixed the at¬ tention of the whole world, and which was to give a master to the Roman empire. Maecenas probably was unwilling to expose his favourite’s life; or perhaps he was afraid that the fatigues of the voyage and the war might impair his health, which was very delicate. 2 We are not much acquainted with Maecenas under a mili¬ tary character, but he seems to have suffered unjustly in that respect. The battle of Actium was the sixth in which he fought for Octavius in the space of twelve years; and since Horace had assisted in two of these actions, he could speak of his patron’s courage, as an ocular witness. This panegyric on Maecenas includes indirectly that of Octavius, by insinuating that he was regardless of his person in battle and exposed him¬ self to the greatest dangers.— San. BOOK V.-ODE I. 173 Shall I th’ unkind command obey, And idly waste my joyless hours away; 10 Or, as becomes the brave, embrace The glorious toil, and spurn the thoughts of peace ? I will; and over Alpine snow, Or savage Caucasus intrepid go ; Or follow, with undaunted breast, 15 Thy dreadful warfare to the farthest west. You ask, what aid I can afford, A puny warrior, novice to the sword : Absence, my lord, increases fear; The danger lessens when the friend is near: 20 Thus, if the mother-bird forsake Her unfledged young, she dreads the gliding snake, With deeper agonies afraid, Not that her presence could afford them aid. With cheerful heart will I sustain, 25 To purchase your esteem, this dread campaign : Not that my ploughs, with heavier toil, Or with a larger team, may turn my soil; Not that my flocks, when Sirius reigns, May browse the verdure of Lucania’s plains; 30 Not that my villa shall extend To where the walls of Tusculum ascend. Thy bounty largely hath supplied, Even with a lavish hand, my utmost pride ; Nor will I meanly wish for more, 35 Tasteless in earth to hide the sordid store, Like an old miser in the play, Or like a spendthrift squander it away. P 2 174 uilACE* ODE II. — THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE. Alphius the usurer, weary of his craft, praises a country life; but shortly after, overcome with avarice, he returns to his * natural bent, and his old way of living. Like the first mortals bless’d is he, From debts, and usury, and business free, With his own team who ploughs the soil, Which grateful once confess’d his father’s toil. The sounds of war nor break his sleep, 5 Nor the rough storm that harrows up the deep : He shuns the courtier’s haughty doors, And the loud science of the bar abjures. Sometimes his marriageable vines Around the lofty bridegroom elm he twines; 10 Or lops the vagrant boughs away, Ingrafting better as the old decay : Or in the vale with joy surveys His lowing herd safe-wandering as they graze; Or careful stores the flowing gold . 15 Press’d from the hive, or shears his tender fold; Or when with various fruits o’erspread, The mellow Autumn lifts his beauteous head, His grafted pears or grapes, that vie With the rich purple of the Tyrian die, 20 Grateful he gathers, and repays His guardian gods upon their festal days ; Sometimes beneath an ancient shade, Or on the matted grass supinely laid, Where pours the mountain stream along, 25 And feather’d warblers chant the soothing song; Or where the lucid fountain flows, And with its murmurs courts him to repose. 10 The countryman here chooses the tallest trees, that he may have the best wine, for Pliny tells us high trees give a richer wine, and lower trees a greater quantity.— Dac. BOOK V.-ODE II. 175 But when the rain and snows appear, And wintry Jove loud thunders o’er the year, 30 With hounds he drives into the toils The foaming boar, and triumphs in his spoils; Or for the greedy thrush he lays Ilis nets, and with delusive baits betrays; Artful he sets the springing snare, 35 To catch the stranger crane, or timorous hare. Thus happy, who would stoop to prove The pains, the wrongs, and injuries of love 1 But if a chaste and virtuous wife Assist him in the tender cares of life ; 40 Of sunburnt charms, but honest fame, (Such as the Sabine or Apulian dame,) Fatigued when homeward he returns, The sacred fire with cheerful lustre burns ; Or if she milk her swelling kine, 45 Or in their folds his happy flocks confine; While unbought dainties crown the feast, And luscious wines from this year’s vintage press’d ; No more shall curious oysters please ; Or fish, the luxury of foreign seas, 50 (If eastern tempests thundering o’er The wintry wave, shall drive them to our shore;) Or wild-fowl of delicious taste, From distant climates brought to crown the feast, Shall e’er so grateful prove to me 55 As olives gather’d from their unctuous tree, And herbs, that love the flowery field. And cheerful health with pure digestion yield; Or fatling, on the festal day, Or kid just rescued from some beast of prey. 60 Amid the feast how joys he to behold Ills well-fed flocks home hasting to their fold! 42 The Sabines possessed the middle of Italy. They were a laborious, frugal people, and their wives were remarkable for chastity and modesty, domestic housewifery, and conjugal fidelity.— Cruq. 176 HORACE. Or see his labour’d oxen bow , Their languid necks, and drag th’ inverted plough! At night his numerous slaves to view 65 Round his domestic gods their mirth pursue! The usurer spoke ; determined to begin A country life, he calls his money in; But ere the moon was in her wane The wretch had put it out to use again. 70 67 Until these words, the reader imagines that Horace him¬ self speaks, and these were his own sentiments; but by giving them to this usurer, he surprises his reader agreeably, and shows the whole ode in a pleasing and a stronger light. Colu¬ mella mentions Alphius as a remarkable usurer, whose favour¬ ite maxim was, that the best debts become bad when we suffer them to rest.— Dac. ODE III.—TO MAECENAS. Hora.ce expresses his aversion to garlic. If parricide ever, in horrors more dire, With impious right hand shall strangle his sire, On garlic, than hemloc more rank, let him feed: Oh stomach of mowers to digest such a weed! What poison is this in my bosom so glowing? 5 Have I swallow’d the gore of a viper unknowing * . Canidia perhaps hath handled the feast, And with witchery hellish the banquet hath dress’d. With this did Medea her lover besmear, Young Jason, beyond all his argonauts fair: 10 The stench was so strong, that it tamed to the yoke The brass-footed bulls breathing forth fire and smoke. On the gown of Creiisa its juices she shed ; Then on her wing’d dragon in triumph she fled. Not such the strong vapour, that burns up the plains. When the dogstar in anger triumphantly reigns : 16 Not the shirt of Alcides, that well-labour’d soldier, With flames more envenom’d burn’d into his shoulder. 17 This gift was the robe which Dejanira sent to Hercules after having dipped it into the blood of Nessus; and the epithet BOOK V.—ODE IV. 177 May the girl of your heart, if ever you taste, Facetious Maecenas, so baleful a feast, 20 Her hand o’er your kisses, oh, may she bespread. And lie afar off on the stock of the bed! ODE IV. The subject of this ode is a certain person, who, from a slave being made a military tribune, was to have the command of one part of the fleet of the Triumviri. As wolves and lambs by nature disagree, So is my hatred firm to thee: Thou wretch! whose back with flagrant whips is torn ; Whose legs with galling fetters worn ; Though wealth thy native insolence inflame, 5 A scoundrel ever is the same. While you your thrice three ells of gown display, And stalk along the sacred way, Observe the freeborn indignation rise; Mark how they turn away their eyes! 10 This wretch, they cry, with public lashing flay’d Till e’en the beadle loath’d his trade, Now ploughs his thousand acres of domain, And wears the pavement with his train ; Now on the foremost benches sits, in spite 15 Of Otho, an illustrious knight. given to Hercules shows those hardy enterprises which he had undertaken and executed in the course of his twelve labours. 12 There were three judges in Rome who took cognizance of all petty crimes, and who ordered slaves and thieves to be chas¬ tised in their presence. The person against whom this ode was written had gone through this discipline, until the beadle, who used to proclaim the fault for which the criminals were pun¬ ished, was tired of his office. 16 Roscius Otho carried a law by which the knights had four¬ teen benches in the circus assigned to them separated from the people ; but even this law distinguished the knights of birth, by giving them a right of sitting on the first seats, preferable to 178 HORACE. From slaves and pirates to assert the main, Shall Rome such mighty fleets maintain 1 And shall those fleets, that dreadful rule the sea, A pirate and a slave obey 1 20 ODE V. The imprecations of a boy against the witch Canidia. But oh, ye gods ! whose awful sway Heaven, earth, and humankind obey, What can this hideous noise intend ? On me what ghastly looks they bend! If ever chaste Lucina heard 5 Thy vows in hour of birth preferr’d; Oh ! by this robe’s impurpled train, Its purple pride, alas ! how vain! By the unerring wrath of Jove, Unerring shall his vengeance prove : 10 Why like a stepdame do you stare, Or like a wounded tigress glare 1 Thus, while his sacred robes they tear, The trembling boy prefers his prayer; Then naked stands, with such a form 15 As might an impious Thracian charm. Canidia, crown’d with writhing snakes, Dishevell’d, thus the silence breaks : “ Now the magic fire prepare, And from graves uprooted tear 20 Trees, whose horrors gloomy spread Round the mansions of the dead; those who were advanced to that dignity either by their fortunes or service. Horace therefore attributes this fellow’s assuming this prerogative to his contempt of Otho’s law.— San. 7 Children of quality wore a robe bordered with purple until they were fifteen years of age. The boy therefore conjures Canidia by his robe, which showed his youth and quality; which was in itself esteemed sacred, and should therefore pro¬ tect him from danger.— Torr. Dac. 19 Here Canidia calls for the drugs that witches were sup. posed to use in composing their filters — Dac. BOOK V.-ODE V. 179 Bring the eggs, and plumage foul Of the midnight-shrieking owl; Be they well besmear’d with blood 25 Of the blackest-venom’d toad; From their various climates bring Every herb that taints the spring; Then into the charm be thrown, Snatch’d from famish’d bitch, a bone; 30 Burn them all with magic flame, Kindled first by Colchian dame.” Now Sagana around the cell Sprinkled her waters, black from hell; Fierce as a porcupine or boar, 35 In frightful wreaths her hair she wore. Veia, who never knew remorse, Uplifts the spade with feeble force ; And breathless with the hellish toil, Deep-groaning breaks the guilty soil; 40 Turns out the earth, and digs a grave In which the boy (as o’er the wave A lusty swimmer lifts his head) Chin-deep sinks downward to the dead, O’er dainties, changed twice thrice, a day, 45 Slowly to gaze his life away ; That the foul hags an amorous dose Of his parched marrow may compose ; His marrow, and his liver dried, The seat where wanton thoughts reside ; 50 When fix’d upon his food in vain, His eyeballs pined away by pain. Naples for idleness renown’d, And all the villages around, 53 Naples, by the advantages of its situation, and temper¬ ature of its climate, was always regarded as the seat of idleness and pleasures. Either this horrid fact must have been gener¬ ally known, or Horace has taken a pleasant manner of proving it, by calling Naples and all the neighbouring villages as wit¬ nesses of it. 180 HORACE. Believe that Folia shared their rites, 55 She who in monstrous lusts delights ; Whose voice the stars from heaven can tear, And charm bright Luna from her sphere. Here, with black tooth and livid jaws, , Her unpared thumbs Canidia gnaws, 60 And into hideous accents broke, In sounds, how direful! thus she spoke : “Ye powers of darkness and of hell, Propitious to the magic spell, Who rule in silence o’er the night, 65 While we perform the mystic rite, Be present now; your horrors shed In hallow’d vengeance on his head. Beneath the forest’s gloomy shade, While beasts in slumbers sweet are laid, 70 Give me the lecher, old and lewd, By barking village curs pursued; Exposed to laughter, let him shine In essence—ah ! that once was mine. What! shall my strongest potions fail, 75 And could Medea’s charms prevail 1 When the fair harlot, proud of heart, Deep felt the vengeance of her art; Her gown with powerful poisons died, In flames inwrapt the guilty bride. 80 Yet every root and herb I know, And on what steepy depths they grow; And yet, with essence round him shed, He sleeps in some bold harlot’s bed ; Or walks at large, nor thinks of me, 85 s By some more mighty witch set free. “ But soon the wretch my wrath shall prove, By spells unwonted taught to love ; Nor shall e’en Marsian charms have power Thy peace, oh Varus! to restore. 90 With stronger drugs, a larger bowl I’ll fill, to bend thy haughty soul; BOOK V.-ODE VI. 181 Sooner the seas to heaven shall rise, And earth spring upward to the skies, Than you not burn in fierce desire, 95 As melts this pitch in smoky fire.” The boy, with lenient words, no more Now strives their pity to implore : With rage yet doubtful what to speak, Forth from his lips these curses break— 100 “ Your spells may right and wrong remove, But ne’er shall change the wrath of Jove ; For while I curse the direful deed, In vain shall all your victims bleed. Soon as this tortured body dies, 105 A midnight fury will I rise: Then shall my ghost, though form’d of air, Your cheeks with crooked talons tear; Unceasing on your entrails prey, And fright the thoughts of sleep away: 110 Such horrors shall the guilty know ; Such is the power of gods below. “Ye filthy hags, with showers of stones The vengeful crowd shall crush your bones ; Then beasts of prey and birds of air 115 Shall your unburied members tear ; And, while they weep their favourite boy, My parents shall the vengeful sight enjoy.” ODE YI.—TO CASSIUS SEVERUS. Horace threatens to revenge himself on Cassius Severus for his maledictions. You dog, that fearful to provoke The wolf, attack offenceless folk! Turn hither, if you dare, your spite, And bark at me, prepared to bite ; For like a hound, or mastiff keen, 5 That guards the shepherd’s flocky green, Through the deep snows I boldly chase, With ears erect, the savage race ; Hor. Vol. I.— Q 182 HORRCE. But you, when with your hideous yelling You fill the grove, at crusts are smelling. 10 Fierce as Archilochus I glow, Like Hipponax a deadly foe. If any mongrel shall assail My character with tooth and nail, What! like a truant boy, shall I 5 i Do nothing in revenge—but cry 1 ODE VII.— 1 TO THE ROMAN PEOPLE.* On the renewal of the civil war. Whither, oh ! whither, impious, do ye run ? Why is the sword unsheathed, the war begun 1 Has then too little of the Latian blood Been pour’d on earth, or mix’d with Neptune’s flood 1 Nor that the Romans with avenging flame 5 Might burn the rival of the Roman name, Or Britons yet unbroken to our war, In chains should follow our triumphal car, * After the defeat of Brutus and Cassius, the death of Sextus Pompeius, and the resignation of Lepidus, Octavius and Antony alone remained in a condition of disputing the sovereign power. Sometimes Octavia, sometimes their common friends reconciled them ; but at length they came to an open rupture in the year 722, when all the forces of the republic were armed to give the last stroke to Roman liberty. During these preparations Horace composed five or six odes on this subject. His-design here is to represent to both parties the horrors of their criminal dissen¬ sions, which threatened their common country with total ruin. He was not ignorant that the ambition of the two chiefs was the sole cause of these misfortunes ; but he speaks with reserve : nor does he declare for either of them, that he might not expose himself (since the event of the war was yet uncertain) to the resentment of the conqueror.— San. 7 Julius Caesar was the first of the Romans who carried his arms into Britain: and although Suetonius tells us that he obliged the Britons to give hostages, and imposed tributes on them, yet we may say that he rather opened a way for his suc¬ cessors into the island, than that he conquered it; or perhaps BOOK V.-ODE IX. 183 But that the Parthian should his vows enjoy, And Rome, with impious hand, herself destroy. 10 The rage of wolves and lions is confined; They never prey but on a different kind. Answer, from madness rise their horrors dire 1 Does angry fate, or guilt your souls inspire ! Silent they stand; with stupid wonder gaze, 15 While the pale cheek their inward guilt betrays. • ’Tis so—the fates have cruelly decreed That Rome for ancient fratricide must bleed : The brother’s blood, which stain’d our rising walls. On his descendants loud for vengeance calls. 20 ODE IX.—TO MAECENAS. Horace celebrates the successes that preceded the victory at Actium. When shall we quaff your old Caecubian wine, Reserved for pious feasts, and joys divine ? Caesar with conquest comes, and gracious Jove, Who gave that conquest, shall our joys approve. Then bid the breath of harmony inspire 5 The Doric flute, and wake the Phrygian lyre ; As late, when the Neptunian youth, who spurn’d A mortal birth, beheld his navy burn’d, And fled affrighted through his father’s waves, With his perfidious host; his host of slaves, 10 it was never totally subdued by the Romans. In the time of Horace the reduction of the people was considered as a new conquest, reserved for the arms of Augustus. He always men¬ tions them with epithets of terror, which represent them as a nation formidable to the Romans, even in the highest strength and glory of their republic. 10 Pompey received all the slaves who would enter into his service ; and the desertion was so great through Italy, that the vestals offered sacrifices and prayers to prevent the continuance of it.— San. 184 HORACE. Freed from those chains, with which his rage de¬ sign’d, Impious ! the freeborn sons of Rome to bind. The Roman troops, (oh! be the tale denied By future times,) enslaved to woman’s pride, And to a wither’d eunuch’s will severe 15 Basely subdued, the toils of war could bear. Amid the Roman eagles Sol survey’d, Oh shame ! th’ Egyptian canopy display’d ; When twice a thousand Gauls aloud proclaim, Indignant at the sight, great Caesar’s name, 20 And a brave fleet, by just resentment led, Turn’d their broad prows, and to our havens fled. Come, god of triumphs, bring the golden car, The untamed heifers, and the spoils of war; For he, whose virtue raised his awful tomb 25 O’er ruin’d Carthage, ne’er return’d to Rome So great and glorious, nor could Libya’s field To thee, oh Triumph, such a leader yield. Pursued by land and sea, the vanquish’d foe Hath changed his purple for the garb of wo ; 30 With winds, no more his own; with shatter’d fleet, He seeks the far-famed hundred towns of Crete ; To tempest-beaten Libya speeds his way, Or drives a vagrant through the uncertain sea. Boy, bring us larger bowls, and fill them round 35 With Chian, or the Lesbian vintage crown’d, Or rich Caecubian, which may best restrain All sickening qualms, and fortify the brain. Th’ inspiring juice shall the gay banquet warm, Nor Caesar’s danger shall our fears alarm. 40 21 The poet ascribes these desertions to the conduct of Cleo¬ patra, who was not ashamed to display her luxury even in the midst of a camp. His whole indignation falls on this princess; nor does he say anything that can be personally applied to An¬ tony. He only describes him in general by calling him the Roman soldier, and the conquered enemy.— San. BOOK Y.-ODE X 185 ODE X.—TO MAEVIUS. Horace wishes that Maevius may suffer shipwreck. When filthy Maevius hoists the spreading sail, Each luckless omen shall prevail: Ye southern winds, invert the foamy tides, And bang his labouring vessel’s sides ; Let Eurus rouse the main with blackening roar, 5 Crack every cable, every oar; Let the north wind rise dreadful o’er the floods, As when it breaks the mountain woods; Nor let one friendly star shine o’er the night, When sets Orion’s gloomy light. 10 Mayst thou no kinder winds, oh Maevius! meet, Than the victorious Grecian fleet, When Pallas turn’d her rage from ruin’d Troy, The impious Ajax to destroy. With streams of sweat the toiling sailor glows, 15 Thy face a muddy paleness shows, Nor shall thy vile, unmanly wailings move The pity of avenging Jove ; While wat’ry winds the bellowing ocean shake, I see thy luckless vessel break ; 20 But if thy carcass reach the winding shore, And birds the pamper’d prey devour, A lamb and lustful goat shall thank the storm, And I the sacrifice perform. 3 It is remarkable that Horace mentions those winds alone, which were contrary to the voyage of this unfortunate rhymer. He even makes a difference between them, and addresses him¬ self particularly to the south, for its power over those seas, especially the entrance into the gulf of Venice. The west wind could not justly be mentioned, since it must have been favour¬ able to his voyage.— San. 23 The Greeks sacrificed a black male lamb to the tempests, whom they worshipped as gods; the Romans offered them a black ewe, as to goddesses. Q 2 186 HORACE. ODE XI.—TO PETTIUS Horace says he is so much in love that he cannot apply him¬ self to the study of poetry. Since cruel love, oh Pettius ! pierced my heart, How have I lost my once-loved lyric art! Thrice have the woods their leafy honour mourn’d Since for Inachia’s beauties Horace burn’d. How was I then (for I confess my shame) 5 Of every idle tale the laughing theme! Oh! that I ne’er had known the jovial feast, Where the deep sigh, that rends the labouring breast, Where languor, and a gentle silence shows To every curious eye the lover’s woes. 10 Pettius, how often o’er the flowing bowl, When the gay liquor warm’d my opening soul, When Bacchus, jovial god, no more restrain’d The modest secret, how have I complain’d, That wealthy blockheads, in a female’s eyes, 15 From a poor poet’s genius bear the prize ; But if a generous rage my breast should warm, I swore—no vain amusements e’er shall charm My aching wounds. Ye vagrant winds, receive The sighs, that sooth the pains they should relieve; Here shall my shame of being conquer’d end, 21 Nor with such rivals will I more contend. When thus, with solemn air, I vaunting said, Inspired by thy advice, I homeward sped ; But ah ! my feet in wonted wanderings stray, 25 And to no friendly doors my steps betray; There I forget my vows, forget my pride, And at her threshold lay my tortured side. BOOK V.-ODE XIII. 187 ODE XIII.—TO A FRIEND. The poet in this ode insists that the troubles of life are to be assuaged by drinking, music, and friendly conversation. See what horrid tempests rise, And contract the clouded skies ; Snows and showers fill the air, And bring down the atmosphere. Hark! what tempests sweep the floods ! 5 How they shake the rattling woods! Let us, while it’s in our power, Let us seize the fleeting hour ; While our cheeks are fresh and gay, Let us drive old age away ; 10 Let us smooth its gather’d brows, Youth its hour of mirth allows. Bring us down the mellow’d wine, Rich with years that equal mine; Prithee, talk no more of sorrow, 15 To the gods belong to-morrow, And, perhaps, with gracious power, They may change the gloomy hour. Let the richest essence shed Eastern odours on your head, 20 While the soft Cyllenian lyre Shall your labouring breast inspire. To his pupil, brave and young, Thus the noble centaur sung ; Matchless mortal! though ’tis thine 25 Proud to boast a birth divine, Yet the banks, with cooling waves, Which the smooth Scamander laves ; And where Simoi's with pride Rougher rolls his rapid tide, 30 Destined by unerring fate, Shall the sea-born hero wait. There the sisters, fated boy, Shall thy thread of life destroy 188 HORACE. Nor shall azure Thetis more 35 Waft thee to thy natal shore; Then let joy and mirth be thine, Mirthful songs and joyous wine, And with converse blithe and gay Drive all gloomy cares away. 40 ODE XV.—TO NEA3RA. Horace complains of Neaera’s breach of faith. Clear was the night, the face of heaven serene, Bright shone the moon amid her starry train, When round my neck as curls the tendril-vine— (Loose are its curlings, if compared to thine) ’Twas then, insulting every heavenly power, 5 That, as I dictated, you boldly swore : While the gaunt wolf pursues the trembling sheep; While fierce Orion harrows up the deep; While Phoebus’ locks float wanton in the wind, Thus shall Neaera prove, thus ever kind. 10 But, if with aught of man was Horace born, Severely shalt thou feel his honest scorn, Nor will he tamely bear the bold delight With which his rival riots out the night, But in his anger seek some kinder dame, 15 Warm with the raptures of a mutual flame ; Nor shall thy rage, thy grief, or angry charms, Recall the lover to thy faithless arms. And thou, whoe’er thou art, who joy to shine, Proud as thou art, in spoils which once were mine, 20 Though wide thy land extends, and large thy fold, Though rivers roll for thee their purest gold, Though nature’s wisdom in her works were thine, And beauties of the human face divine, Yet soon thy pride her wandering love shall mourn, 25 While 1 shall laugh, exulting in my turn. BOOK V.* ODE XVI. 189 ODE XVI.—TO THE ROMANS. Horace here foretells that Rome, torn in pieces by intestine wars, would be deserted after the example of the Phocaeans. In endless civil war, th’ imperial state By her own strength precipitates her fate. What neighbouring nations, fiercely leagued in arms, What Porsena, with insolent alarms Threatening her tyrant monarch to restore ; 5 What Spartacus, and Capua’s rival power ; What Gaul, tumultuous and devoid of truth, And fierce Germania, with her blue-eyed youth; What Hannibal, on whose accursed head Our sires their deepest imprecations shed, 10 In vain attempted to her awful state, Shall we, a blood-devoted race, complete 1 Again shall savage beasts these hills possess, And fell barbarians, wanton wilh success, Scatter our city’s flaming ruins wide, 15 Or through her streets in vengeful triumph ride, And her great founder’s hallow’d ashes spurn, That sleep uninjured in their sacred urn ? But some, perhaps, to shun the rising shame, (Which heaven approve,) would try some happier scheme. 20 As the Phocaeans oft for freedom bled, At length with imprecated curses, fled, 11 The civil wars between Marius and Sylla, which began in 666, were never perfectly extinguished until the death of An¬ tony, 724. Horace, therefore, says that this was the second age of those wars, because they had commenced in the preceding century. 22 The Phocaeans, being besieged by Harpagus, general of the Persians, demanded one day’s truce to deliberate on the propositions he had sent, to them, and desired that he would draw off his army from their walls. As soon as Harpagus had consented, they carried their most valuable effects, their wives and children, aboard their ships. Then throwing a mass of 190 HORACE. And left to boars and wolves the sacred fane, With all their household gods, adored in vain, So let us fly, as far as earth extends, 25 Or where the vagrant wind our voyage bends. Shall this, or shall some better scheme prevail? Why do we stop to hoist the willing sail? But let us swear, when floating rocks shall gain, Raised from the deep, the surface of the main; 30 When lowly Po the mountain summit laves, And Apennine shall plunge beneath the waves; When nature’s monsters meet in strange delight, And the fell tigress shall with stags unite; When the fierce kite shall woo the willing dove, 35 And win the wanton with adulterous love ; When herds on brindled lions fearless gaze, And the smooth goat exults in briny seas ; Then, and then only, to the tempting gale, To spread repentant the returning sail. 40 Yet to cut off our hopes—those hopes that charm Our fondless home—let us with curses arm These high resolves. Thus let the brave and wise, Whose souls above th’ indocile vulgar rise : Then let the crowd, who dare not hope success, 45 Inglorious, these ill-omen’d seats possess. But ye, whom virtue warms, indulge no more These female plaints, but quit this fated shore : For earth-surrounding sea our flight awaits, Offering its blissful isles, and happy seats, 50 Where annual Ceres crowns th’ uncultured field. And vines unpruned their blushing clusters yield • Where olives, faithful to their season, grow, And figs with nature’s deepest purple glow ; From hollow oaks where honey’d streams distil, 55 And bounds with noisy foot the pebbled rill , glowing iron into the sea, they bound themselves by oath never to return to their country until that mass should rise to the surface of the water. From hence a Grecian proverb, “ As long as the Phocaean mass of iron shall continue at the bottom of the ocean.” BOOK V.-ODE XVII. 191 Where goats untaught forsake the flowery vale, And bring their swelling udders to the pail; Nor evening bears the sheepfold growl around, Nor mining vipers heave the tainted ground ; 60 Nor wat’ry Eurus deluges the plain, Nor heats excessive burn the springing grain. Not Argo thither turn’d her armed head ; Medea there no magic poison spread; No merchants thither plough the pathless main, 65 For guilty commerce, and a thirst of gain; Nor wise Ulysses, and his wandering bands, Vicious, though brave, e’er knew these happy lands. O’er the glad flocks no foul contagion spreads, Nor summer sun his burning influence sheds. 70 Pure and unmix’d the world’s first ages roll’d, But soon as brass had stain’d the flowing gold, To iron hardened by succeeding crimes, Jove for the just preserved these happy climes, To which the gods their pious race invite, 75 And bid me, raptured bard, direct their flight. ODE XVII.—TO CANIDIA. Horace ironically begs pardon of Canidia; she answers that she never will be reconciled. Canidia, to thy matchless art Vanquish’d I yield a suppliant heart; But oh! by hell’s extended plains, Where Pluto’s gloomy consort reigns ; By bright Diana’s vengeful rage, 5 Which prayers, not hecatombs assuage ; And by the books, of power to call The charmed stars, and bid them fall, No more pronounce the sacred scroll, But back the magic circle roll. 10 Even stern Achilles could forgive The Mysian king, and bid him live, 12 Telephus was king of Mysia. When the Greeks entered his country, in their passage to Troy, he opposed them vigor- 192 HORACE. Though proud he ranged the ranks of fight, And hurl’d the spear with daring might, Thus, when the murderous Hector lay, 15 Condemn’d to dogs, and birds of prey, Yet when his royal father kneel’d, The fierce Achilles knew to yield, And Troy’s unhappy matrons paid Their sorrows to their Hector’s shade. 20 Ulysses’ friends, in labours tried, So Circe will’d, threw off their hide, Assumed the human form divine, And dropp’d the voice and sense of swine. Oh thou, whom tars and merchants love, 25 Too deep thy vengeful rage I prove, Reduced, alas! to skin and bone, My vigour fled, my colour gone. Thy fragrant odours on my head More than the snows of age have shed. 30 Days press on nights, and nights on days, Yet never bring an hour of ease, While gasping in the pangs of death, I stretch my lungs in vain for breath, Thy charms have power (’tis now confess’d) To split the head, and tear the breast. 36 What would you more, all-charming dame 1 Oh seas, and earth! this scorching flame ! Not such the fire Alcides bore When the black-venom’d shirt he wore : 40 Nor such the flames that to the skies From ^Etna’s burning entrails rise ; And yet, thou shop of poisons dire, You glow w T ith unrelenting fire, Till by the rapid heat calcined, 45 Vagrant I drive before the wind. ously ; but being wounded by Achilles, he was told by the ora¬ cle that he could only be cured by the weapon with which he was wounded. He applied to Achilles, who, scraping his lance, poured the filings into his wound. Pliny mentions a picture in which Achilles was painted performing the cure.— Lamb. BOOK V.-ODE XVII. 193 How long ? What ransom shall I pay 1 Speak—I the stern command obey. To expiate the guilty deed, Say, shall a hundred bullocks bleed ? 50 Or shall I to the lying string Thy fame and spotless virtue singl Teach thee, a golden star, to rise, And deathless walk the spangled skies 1 When Helen’s virtue was defamed, 55 Her brothers, though with rage enflamed, Yet to the bard his eyes restored, When suppliant he their grace implored. Oh! calm this madness of my brain, For you can heal this raging pain. 60 You never knew the birth of shame, Nor by thy hand, all-skilful dame, The poor man’s ashes are upturn’d, Though they be thrice three days inurn’d. Thy bosom’s bounteous and humane, 65 Thy hand from blood and murder clean; And with a blooming race of boys Lucina crowns thy mother-joys. CANIDIA’S ANSWER. I’ll hear no more. Thy prayers are vain: Not rocks, amid the wintry main, Less heed the shipwreck’d sailor’s cries, When Neptune bids the tempest rise. Shall you Cotytto’s feast deride, 5 Yet safely triumph in thy pride I Or, impious, to the glare of day The sacred joys of love betray ? 5 Cotys, or Cotytto, was the goddess of impurity, and al¬ though she did not preside over assemblies of witches, yet as there were many vile and infamous ceremonies practised in them, the poet satirically makes Canidia call them the feasts of Cotys.— Politian. Hor. Vol. I.—R 194 HORACE. Or fill the city with my name, And pontiff-like our rites defame ? 10 Did I with wealth in vain enrich, Of potent spells each charming witch, Or mix the speedy drugs in vain 1 No—through a lingering length of pain, Reluctant shalt thou drag thy days, 15 While every hour new pangs shall raise. Gazing on the delusive feast, Which charms his eye, yet flies his taste, Perfidious Tantalus implores, For rest, for rest, the vengeful powers; 20 Prometheus, while the vulture preys Upon his liver, longs for ease ; And Sisyphus, with many a groan, Uprolls, with ceaseless toil, his stone, To fix it on the topmost hill, 25 In vain, for Jove’s all-ruling will Forbids. When thus in black despair Down from some castle, high in air, You seek a headlong fate below, Or try the dagger’s pointed blow, 30 Or if the left-ear’d knot you tie, Yet death your vain attempts shall fly ; Then on your shoulders will I ride, And earth shall shake beneath my pride Could I with life an image warm, 35 (Impertinent, you saw the charm,) Or tear down Luna from her skies, Or bid the dead, though burn’d, arise, Or mix the draught inspiring love, fcnd shall my art on thee successless prove ] 40 THE SECULAR POEM* THE POET TO THE PEOPLE. Stand off, ye vulgar, nor profane, With bold, unhallow’d sounds, this festal scene: In hymns, inspired by truth divine, I, priest of the melodious Nine, To youths and virgins sing the mystic strain. 5 TO THE CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 1 Ph(ebus taught me how to sing, How to tune the vocal string; Phcehps made me known to fame, Honour’d with a poet’s name. Noble youths, and virgins fair, 10 Chaste Diana’s guardian care, (Goddess, whose unerring dart Stops the lynx, or flying hart,) Mark the Lesbian measures well, Where they fall, and where they swell, 15 And in varied cadence sing, As I strike the changing-string. To the god, who gilds the skies, Let the solemn numbers rise ; Solemn sing the queen of night, 20 And her crescent’s bending light, Which adown the fruitful year Rolls the months in prone career. * The celebration of the secular games was distinguished by the solemnity of three great festivals, which were divided in their institution, but by degrees became united, and formed one entertainment, which continued three days and three nights successively. 196 HORACE. Soon upon her bridal day, Thus the joyful maid shall say, 25 When the great revolving year Bade the festal morn appear, High the vocal hymn I raised, And the listening gods were pleased ; All the vocal hymn divine, 30 Horace, tuneful bard, was thine. FIRST CONCERT.—HYMN TO APOLLO. CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. Tityus, with impious lust inspired, By chaste Latona’s beauties fired, Thy wrath, oh Phoebus, tried ; And Niobe, of tongue profane, 35 Deplored her numerous offspring slain, Sad victims of their mother’s pride. Achilles too, the son of fame, Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born dame, And first of men in fight, 40 Though warring with tremendous spear He shook the Trojan towers with fear, Yet bow’d to thy superior might; The cypress, when by storms impell’d, Or pine, by biting axes fell’d, 45 Low bends the towering head : So falling on th’ ensanguined plain, By your unerring arrow slain, His mighty bulk the hero spread. He had not Priam’s heedless court, 50 Dissolved in wine, and festal sport, With midnight art surprised ; But bravely bold, of open force, Had proudly scorn’d Minerva’s horse, And all its holy cheat despised; 55 THE SECULAR POEM. 197 Then arm’d, alas! with horrors dire, Wide-wasting with resistless ire, Into the flames had thrown Infants, upon whose faltering tongue Their words in formless accent hung, 60 Infants to life and light unknown : But charm’d by beauty’s queen and thee, The sire of gods, with just decree Assenting, shook the skies ; That Troy should change th’ imperial seat, 65 And guided by a better fate, Glorious in distant realms should rise. Oh ! may the god, who could inspire With living sounds the Grecian lyre, In Xanthus’ lucid stream 70 Who joys to bathe his flowing hair, Now make the Latian muse his care, And powerful guard her rising fame! SECOND CONCERT. CHORUS OF YOUTHS. Ye virgins, sing Diana’s praise. CHORUS OF VIRGINS. Ye boys, let youthful Phoebus crown your lays. 75 THE TWO CHOIRS. Together let us raise the voice To her, beloved by Jove supreme Let fair Latona be the theme, mmnfthe Our tuneful theme, his beauteous choice. CHORUS OF YOUTHS. Ye virgins, sing Diana’s fame. Who bathes delighted in the limpid stream; R 2 80 198 HORACE. Dark Erymanthus’ awful groves, The woods, that Algidus o’erspread, Or wave on Cragus’ verdant head, Joyous th’ immortal huntress loves. 85 CHORUS OF VIRGINS. Ye boys, with equal honour sing Fair Tempe clothed with ever-blooming spring; Then hail the Delian birth divine, Whose shoulders, beaming heavenly fire, Graced with his brother’s warbling lyre, 90 And with the golden quiver shine. CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. Moved by the solemn voice of prayer, They both shall make imperial Rome their care, And gracious turn the direful woes Of famine and of weeping war 95 From Rome, from sacred Caesar far, And pour them on our British foes. THIRD CONCERT.—TO APOLLO AND DIANA. CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. Ye radiant glories of the skies, Ever-beaming god of light, Sweetly shining queen of night, 100 Beneath whose wrath the wood-born savage dies; Ye powers, to whom with ceaseless praise A grateful world its homage pays, Let our prayer, our prayer be heard, Now in this solemn hour preferr’d; 105 When by the sibyl’s dread command, Of spotless maids a chosen train, Of spotless youths a chosen band, To all our guardian gods uplift the hallow’d strain. THE SECULAR POEM. 199 CHORUS OF YOUTHS. Fair sun, who with unchanging beam 110 Rising another and the same, Dost from thy beamy car unfold The glorious day, Or hide it in thy setting ray, Of light and life immortal source, 115 Mayst thou, in all thy radiant course, Nothing more great than seven-hill’d Rome behold! * i . CHORUS OF VIRGINS. Goddess of the natal hour, Or if other name more dear, Propitious power, 120 Can charm your ear, Our pregnant matrons gracious hear ; With lenient hand their pangs compose, Heal their agonizing throes ; Give the springing birth to light, 125 And with every genial grace, Prolific of an endless race, Oh! crown our marriage laws, and bless the nuptial rite! CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. That when the circling years complete Again this awful season bring, 130 Thrice with the day’s revolving light, Thrice beneath the shades of night, In countless bands our youthful choirs may sing These festal hymns, these pious games repeat. Ye fates, from whom unerring flows 135 The word of truth; whose firm decree Its stated bounds and order knows, Wide-spreading through eternity, With guardian care around us wait, And with successive glories crown the state. 140 200 HORACE. Let earth her various fruitage yield, Her living verdure spread, And form, amid the waving field, A sheafy crown for Ceres’ head ; Fall genial showers, and o’er our fleecy care 145 May Jove indulgent breathe his purest air! CHORUS OF YOUTHS. Phoebus, whose kindly beams impart Health and gladness to the heart, While in its quiver lies the pestilential dart, Thy youthful suppliants hear: 150 » , CHORUS OF VIRGINS. Queen of the stars, who rul’st the night In horned majesty of light, Bend to thy virgins a propitious ear. CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. If, ye gods, the Roman state Was form’d by your immortal power; 155 Or if, to change th’ imperial seat, And other deities adore, Beneath your guidance the Dardanian host Pour’d forth their legions on the Tuscan coast; For whom Aeneas, through the fire, 160 In which he saw his Troy expire, A passage open’d to a happier clime, Where they might nobler triumphs gain, And to never-ending time With boundless empire reign. 165 Ye gods, inform our docile youth With early principles of truth; Ye gods, indulge the waning days Of silver’d age with placid ease, And grant to Rome an endless race, 170 Treasure immense, and every sacred grace. THE SECULAR POEM. 201 ‘ The prince, who owes to beauty’s queen his birth, Who bids the snowy victim’s blood Pour forth to-day its purple flood, Oh ! may he glorious rule the conquer’d earth! 175 But yet a milder glory show In mercy to the prostrate foe. Already the fierce Mede his arms reveres, Which wide extend th’ imperial sway, And bid th’ unwilling world obey; 180 The haughty Indian owns his fears, And Scythians, doubtful of their doom, Await the dread resolves of Rome. Faith, Honour, Peace, celestial maid, And Modesty, in ancient guise array’d, 185 And Virtue (with unhallow’d scorn Too long neglected) now appear, While Plenty fills her bounteous horn, And pours her blessings o’er the various year. CHORUS OF YOUTHS. If the prophetic power divine, 190 Famed for the golden bow and quiver’d dart, Who knows to charm the listening Nine, And feeble mortals raise with healing art; If he with gracious eye survey the towers, Where Rome his deity adores, 195 Oh ! let each era still presage Increase of happiness from age to age ! CHORUS OF VIRGINS. Oh! may Diana, on these favourite hills Whose diffusive presence fills Her hallow’d fane, 200 Propitious deign Our holy priests to hear, And to our youth incline her willing ear! 202 HORACE. CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. Lo! we the chosen, youthful choir, Taught with harmonious voice to raise Apollo’s and Diana’s praise, In full and certain hope retire, That all th’ assembled gods, and sovereign Jove These pious vows, these choral hymns approve j 205 i V » THE SATIRES v BOOK I. SATIRE I.—TO MAECENAS. The object of this satire is to show that all, but especially the covetous, think their own condition the hardest. Maecenas, what’s the cause, that no man lives Contented with the lot which reason gives, Or chance presents; yet all with envy view The schemes that others variously pursue % Broken with toils, with ponderous arms oppress’d, The soldier thinks the merchant solely bless’d. 6 In opposite extreme; when tempests rise, War is a better choice, the merchant cries ; The battle joins, and, in a moment’s flight, Death, or a joyful conquest ends the fight. 10 When early clients thunder at his gate The barrister applauds the rustic’s fate; While, by subpoenas dragg’d from home, the clown Thinks they alone are bless’d who live in town. But every various instance to repeat 15 Would tire even Fabius, of eternal prate. Not to be tedious, mark the general aim Of these examples—should some god proclaim, “ Your prayers are heard; you, soldier, to your seas; You, lawyer, take that envied rustic’s ease ; 20 Each to his several part—what! ha! not move E’en to the bliss you wish’d!” And shall not Jove Swell both his cheeks with anger, and forswear His weak indulgence to their future prayer 1 But not to treat my subject as in jest, 25 (Yet may not truth in laughing guise be dress’d 1 As masters fondly sooth their boys to read With cakes and sweetmeats,) let us now proceed : With graver air our serious theme pursue, And yet preserve our moral full in view. 30 Hor, Vol. I.—S 206 HORACE. Who turns the soil, and o’er the ploughshare bends; He, who adulterates the laws, and vends; The soldier, and th’ adventurers of the main, Profess their various labours they sustain, A decent competence for age to raise, 35 And then retire to indolence and ease. JVIiser. For thus the little ant (to human lore No mean example) forms her frugal store, Gather’d with mighty toil, on every side, Nor ignorant, nor careless to provide 40 For future want— Horace. Yet when the stars appear, That darkly sadden the declining year, No more she comes abroad, but wisely lives On the fair store industrious summer gives. For thee, nor summer’s heat, nor winter’s cold, 45 Fire, sea, nor sword, stop thy pursuit of gold; Nothing can break th’ adventurous, bold design, So none possess a larger sum than thine. But, prithee, whence the pleasure, thus by stealth Deep in the earth to hide thy weight of wealth 1 50 M. One farthing lessen’d, you the mass reduce. H. And if not lessen’d, whence can rise its use ? What though you thresh a thousand sacks of grain, No more than mine thy stomach can contain. The slave, who bears the load of bread, shall eat 55 No more than he who never felt the weight. Or say, what difference, if we live confined Within the bounds by nature’s laws assign’d. Whether a thousand acres of demain, Or one poor hundred, yield sufficient grain! 60 M. Oh! but ’tis sweet to take from larger hoards. H. Yet, if my little heap as much affords, Why shall your granaries be valued more Than my small hampers, with their frugal store! You want a cask of water, or would fill 65 An ample goblet; whence the froward will To choose a mighty river’s rapid course, Before this little fountain’s lenient source ? BOOK I.-SATIRE I. 207 But mark his fate, insatiate who desires Deeper to drink than nature’s thirst requires; 70 With its torn banks the torrent bears away Th’ intemperate wretch; while he, who would allay With healthy draughts his thirst, shall drink secure, Fearless of death, and quaff his water pure. Some, self-deceived, who think their lust of gold 75 Is but a love of fame, this maxim hold, No fortune’s large enough, since others rate Your worth proportion’d to a large estate. Say, for their cure what arts would you employ? “ Let them be wretched, and their choice enjoy.” 80 At Athens lived a wight, in days of yore, Though miserably rich, yet fond of more, But of intrepid spirit to despise Th’ abusive crowd. “ Let them hiss on,” he cries, “ While, in my own opinion fully bless’d, 85 I count my money, and enjoy my chest.” Burning with thirst, when Tantalus would quaff The flying waters—wherefore do you laugh? Change but the name, of thee the tale is told, With open mouth when dosing o’er your gold. 90 On every side the numerous bags are piled, Whose hallow’d stores must never be defiled To human use; while you transported gaze, As if, like pictures, they were form’d to please. Would you the real use of riches know ? 95 Bread, herbs, and wine are all they can bestow. Or add, what nature’s deepest wants supplies ; , This, and no more, thy mass of money buys. But, with continual watching almost dead, House-breaking thieves, and midnight fires to dread, Or the suspected slave’s untimely flight 101 With the dear pelf; if this bo thy delight, Be it my fate, so Heaven in bounty please, Still to be poor of blessings such as these ! M. If, by a cold some painful illness bred, 105 Or other chance confine you to your bed, 208 HORACE. Your wealth shall purchase some good-natured friend Your cordials to prepare, your couch attend, And urge the doctor to preserve your life, And give you to your children and your wife. 110 H. Nor wife, nor son, that hated life would save, While all, who know thee, wish thee in the grave. And canst thou wonder that they prove unkind, When all thy passions are to gold confined 1 Nature, ’tis true, in each relation gave 115 A friend sincere ; yet what you thus receive, If you imagine, with unfeeling heart, &nd careless manners to preserve, your art As well may teach an ass to scour the plain, And bend obedient to the forming rein. 120 Yet somewhere should your views of lucre cease Nor let your fears of poverty increase, As does your wealth ; for since you now possess Your utmost wish, your labour should be less. Ummidius once (the tale is quickly told) 125 So wondrous rich he measured out his gold, Yet never dress’d him better than a slave, Afraid of starving ere he reach’d his grave : But a bold wench, of right virago strain, Cleft with an axe the wretched wight in twain. 130 M. By your advice what party shall I take 1 Like Maenius live a prodigal, and rake Like Nomentanusl H. Why will you pretend, With such extremes, your conduct to defend 1 The sordid miser when I justly blame, 135 I would not have you prodigal of fame, Spendthrift or rake ; for sure some difference lies Between the very fool and very wise: Some certain mean in all things may be found, To mark our virtues’ and our vices’ bound. - 140 But to return from whence we have digress’d. And is the miser, then, alone unbless’dl Does he alone applaud his neighbour’s fate, Or pine with envy of his happier state 1 BOOK I.-SATIRE III. 209 To crowds beneath him never turn his eye, 145 Where in distress the sons of virtue lie, But, to outspeed the wealthy, bend his force, As if they stopp’d his own impetuous course ? Thus, from the goal when swift the chariot flies, The charioteer the bending lash applies, 150 To overtake the foremost on the plain, But looks on all behind him with disdain. From hence, how few, like sated guests, depart From life’s full banquet with a cheerful heart l But let me stop, lest you suspect I stole 155 From blind Crispinus this eternal scroll. 153 There are few people, says Epicurus, who do not go out of life, as if they were just come into it; whence their lives, as Lucretius expresses it, are always imperfect. Perhaps our poet had in view an expression of Aristotle. “We should go out of life, as we ought to rise from a banquet, neither thirsty nor full of wine.” SATIRE III.—TO MAECENAS. The poet here asserts that we ought to connive at the faults of our friends, since all errors are not to be ranked in the catalogue of crimes. With this one vice all songsters are possess’d ; Sing they can never at a friend’s request - , Yet chant it forth, unask’d, from morn till night— This vice Tigellius carried to its height. Caesar, who might command in firmer tone, 5 If, by his father’s friendship and his own, He ask’d a song, was sure to ask in vain, Yet, when the whim prevail’d, in endless strain Through the whole feast the jovial catch he plies, From bass to treble o’er the gamut flies. 10 Nothing was firm, or constant, in the man; He sometimes, like a frighted coward ran, Whose foes are at his heels; then solemn stalk’d, As if at Juno’s festival he walk’d. Now with two hundred slaves he crowds his train; 15 Now walks with ten. In high and haughty strain S2 210 HORACE. At morn, of tetrarchs, and of kings he prates; At night—“ A three-legg’d table, oh ye fates ! A little shell the sacred salt to hold, And clothes, though coarse to keep me from the cold.” Yet give the man, thus frugal, thus content, 21 Ten thousand pounds, and every shilling’s spent In five short days. He drank the night away Till rising dawn, then snored out all the day. Sure such a various creature ne’er was known. 25 “ Has Horace, then, no vices of his own!” That I have vices, frankly I confess, But of a different kind, and somewhat less. Moenius, behind his back, at Novius rail’d, “ What! don’t you know yourself, or think con¬ ceal’d 30 From us, who know you, what a life you live !” Maenius replies, Indulgent I forgive The follies I commit. This foolish love, And criminal, our censure should reprove ; For wherefore, while you carelessly pass by 35 Your own worst vices with unheeding eye, Why so sharp-sighted in another’s fame, Strong as an eagle’s ken, or dragon’s beam ? But know, that he with equal spleen shall view, With equal rigour shall your faults pursue. 40 Your friend is passionate; perhaps unfit For the brisk petulance of modern wit. His hair ill cut, his robe, that awkward flows, Or his large shoes to raillery expose The man you love; yet is he not possess’d 45 Of virtues, with which very few are bless’d 1 While underneath this rude, uncouth disguise A genius of extensive knowledge lies. Search your own breast, and mark with honest care What seeds of folly nature planted there, 50 Or custom raised ; for an uncultured field Shall for the fire its thorns and thistles yield. And yet a shorter method we may find, As lovers, to their fair one fondly blind BOOK I.-SATIRE III. 211 Even on her foulness can delighted gaze ; 55 For Hagne’s wen can good Balbinus please. Oh! were our weakness to our friends the same, And stamp’d by virtue with some honour’d name ! Nor should we to their faults be more severe Than an indulgent father to his heir; 60 If with distorted eyes the urchin glares, “ Oh ! the dear boy, how prettily he stares !” Is he of dwarfish and abortive size 1 “ Sweet little moppet!” the fond father cries: Or is th’ unshapen cub deform’d and lame 1 65 He kindly lisps him o’er some tender name. Thus, if your friend’s too frugally severe, Let him a wise economist appear. Is he, perhaps, impertinent and vain 1 “ The pleasant creature means to entertain.” 70 Is he too free to prate, or frankly rude 1 “ ’Tis manly plainness all, and fortitude.” Is he too warm 1 “ No : spirited and bold.” Thus shall we gain new friends, and keep the old. But we distort their virtue to a crime, 75 And joy th’ untainted vessel to begrime. Have we a modest friend, and void of art ? “ He’s a fat-headed wretch, and cold of heart!” While we converse with an ill-natured age, Where calumny and envy lawless rage, 80 Is there a man, by long experience wise, Still on his guard, nor open to surprise 1 His cautious wisdom and prudential fear Shall artifice and false disguise appear. If any one of simple, thoughtless kind, 85 (Such as you oft your careless poet find,) Who life’s politer manners never knew, If, while we read, or some fond scheme pursue, 75 The poet has chosen for an example of this truth three virtues, probity, prudence, and simplicity. By the last he un¬ derstands a frankness in our actions, which frequently passes over the decencies of life, rather through inattention than un¬ politeness.— San. 212 HORACE. He tease us with his mere impertinence, We cry, the creature wants even common sense. 90 Alas ! what laws, of how severe a strain, Against ourselves we thoughtlessly ordain 1 For we have all our vices, and the best Is he who with the fewest is oppress’d. A kinder friend, who balances my good 95 And bad together, as in truth he should, If haply my good qualities prevail, Inclines indulgent to the sinking scale. For like indulgence let his errors plead, His merits be with equal measure weigh’d; 100 For he, who hopes his bile shall not offend, Should overlook the pimples of his friend ; And even in justice to his own defects, At least should grant the pardon he expects. But, since we never from the breast of fools 105 Can root their passions, yet, while reason rules, Let it hold forth its scales with equal hand, Justly to punish, as the crimes demand. If a poor slave, who takes away your plate, Lick the warm sauce, or half-cold fragments eat, 110 Yet should you crucify the wretch, we swear Not Labeo’s madness can with yours compare. Is the crime less, or less the want of sense, Thus to resent a trivial, slight offence ! Forgive the man you loved, or you’ll appear 115 Of joyless kind, ill-natured and severe ; Yet you detest him, and with horror shun, As debtors from the ruthless Ruso run, Who damns the wretches on th’ appointed day His interest or principal to pay, 120 Or else, like captives, stretch the listening ear His tedious tales of history to hear. A friend has foul’d my couch: ah ! deep disgrace ! Or off the table thrown some high-wrought vase ; 118 This Ruso was a double torment to the poor people who borrowed money of him. He ruined them by extortion, and read them to death by his works. BOOK I.-SATIRE III. 213 Or, hungry, snatch’d a chicken off my plate ; 125 Shall I for this a good companion hate? What if he robb’d me, or his trust betray’d, Or broke the sacred promise he had made ? Who hold all crimes alike, are deep distress’d When we appeal to truth’s impartial test. 130 Sense, custom, social good, from whence arise All forms of right and wrong, the fact denies. When the first mortals crawling rose to birth, Speechless and wretched, from their mother-earth, For caves—and acorns, then the food of life— 135 With nails and fists they held a bloodless strife ; But soon improved, with clubs they bolder fought, And various arms, which sad experience wrought; Till words, to fix the wandering voice were found, And name impress’d a meaning upon sound. 140 Thenceforth they cease from war; their towns in¬ close With formidable walls, and laws compose To strike the thief and highwaymen with dread. And vindicate the sacred marriage bed. For woman, long ere Helen’s fatal charms, 145 Destructive woman ! set the world in arms • But the first heroes died unknown to fame, Like beasts who ravish’d the uncertain dame: When, as the stoutest bull commands the rest, The weaker by the stronger was oppress’d. 150 Turn o’er the world’s great annals, and you find That laws were first invented by mankind To stop oppression’s rage ; for though we learn, By nature, good from evil to discern; What we should wise pursue, or cautious fly; 155 Yet can she never, with a constant eye, 131 Horace endeavours to prove, according to the doctrine of Epicurus, that justice and injustice arise only from laws ; and that laws have no other foundation than public utility, by which he means the happiness of civil society. On the contrary, the stoics asserted that justice and injustice have their first princi¬ ples in nature itself, and the first appearance of reason in the mind of man.— San. 214 HORACE. Of legal justice mark each nice extreme ; Nor can right reason prove the crime the same, To rob a garden, or, by fear unawed, To steal by night the sacred things of. God. 160 Then let the punishment be fairly weigh’d Against the crime; nor let the wretch be flay’d, Who scarce deserved the lash. I cannot fear That you shall prove too tenderly severe, While you assert all vices are the same, 165 And threaten, that were yours the power supreme, Robbers and thieves your equal rage should feel, Uprooted by the same avenging steel. If your wise man’s a shoemaker profess’d, Handsome and rich, of monarchy possess’d, 170 W'hy wish for what you have 1 Stoic. Yet hold, my friend, And better to the stoic’s sense attend. For though the wife nor shoes, nor slippers made, He’s yet a skilful shoemaker by trade ; Thus, though Hermogenes may sing no more, 175 He knows the whole extent of music’s power; Alfenus thus, turn’d lawyer in his pride, His shop shut up, his razors thrown aside, Was still a barber: so the wise alone Is of all trades, though exercising none, 180 And reigns a monarch, though without a throne. Horace. Great king of kings! unless you drive away This pressing crowd, the boys in wanton play Will pluck you by the beard, while you shall growl, Wretch as thou art, and burst in spleen of soul. 185 In short, while in a farthing bath you reign, With only one poor life-guard in your train; While the few friends, with whom I joy to live, Fool as I am, my follies can forgive, 184 To pluck a man by the beard, was such an indignity, that it gave rise to a proverb among the Greeks and Romans. The stoic philosophers were usually treated with this kind of contempt, to insult their pretended wisdom, and to put them to the proof of their boasted patience. 189 We ought, says Epictetus, to extenuate an injury com- BOOK I.—SATIRE IV. 215 I will to them the same indulgence show, 190 And bliss like mine thy kingship ne’er shall know. SATIRE IV. Horace apologizes for the liberties taken by satiric poets in general, and particularly by himself. The comic poets, in its earliest age Who form’d the manners of the Grecian stage, Was there a villain, who might justly claim A better right of being damn’d to fame, Rake, cut-throat, thief, whatever was his crime, 5 They freely stigmatized the wretch in rhyme. From their example whole Lucilius rose, Though different measures, different verse he chose. He rallied with a gay and easy air ; But rude his numbers, and his style severe. 1C He weakly fancied it a glorious feat His hundred lines extempore to repeat; And as his verses like a torrent roll, The stream runs muddy, and the water’s foul. He prattled rhymes; but lazy and unfit 16 For writing well; for much, I own, he writ. Crispinus thus my littleness defies ; “ Here, make the smallest bet,” the boaster cries. mitted against us, that we may forgive it more easily; and to enlarge our own mistakes, that we may correct them, and re¬ pent of them. 1 Comedy was divided into ancient and modern. In the first the subject and the names of the actors were real; in the sec¬ ond, the drama was formed on history, but the names of the actors were invented; in the third, both the story and actors were formed by the poet. 6 This liberty was much abused. The poets, not contented with exposing the names and characters of the persons whom they represented on the stage, made them almost appear them¬ selves by masks drawn with the utmost resemblance. Indeed we are to expect but little impartiality from satirists of any age. Neither the virtue of Pericles could defend him from the viru¬ lence of Cratinus; nor the wisdom of Socrates from the petu¬ lance of Aristophanes. 216 HORACE. Crispinus. “ Pen, ink, and paper; name your place and time: Then try, friend Flaccus, who can fastest rhyme.” 20 Horace. Thank Heaven, that form’d me of an hum¬ bler kind; No wit, nor yet to prattling much inclined, While thou shalt imitate the winds, that blow From lungs of leather, till the metal flow ! Thrice happy Fannius, of his own free grace, 25 Who in Apollo’s temple hangs his face, And gilds his works to view; while I with fear Repeat my verses to the public ear ; Because by few such works as mine are read, Conscious of meriting the lash they dread. 30 Take me a man, at venture, from the crowd, And he’s ambitious, covetous, or proud. One burns to madness for the wedded dame ; Intemperate lusts another’s breast inflame. The silver vase with pleasure one admires, 35 While Albius o’er a bronze antique expires; The venturous merchant, from the rising day To regions warm’d beneath the setting ray, Like dust, collected by a whirlwind, flies To save his pelf, or bid the mass arise. 40 All these the poet dread, his rhymes detest: “ Yonder he drives; avoid that furious beast: If he may have his jest, he never cares At whose expense, nor his best friend he spares ; And if he once, in his malignant vein, 45 The cruel paper with invectives stain, The slaves, who carry water through the street, To his charm’d ear his verses must repeat.” Now hear this short defence. For my own part, I claim no portion of the poet’s art. 50 ’Tis not enough to close the flowing line, And in ten syllables your sense confine ; 37 The navigation of the Romans was usually confined to the Mediterranean, which runs east and west. BOOK I.-SATIRE IV. 217 Or write in mere prosaic rhymes like me, That can deserve the name of poetry. Is there a man, whom real genius fires, 55 Whom the diviner soul of verse inspires ; Who talks true greatness ; let him boldly claim The sacred honours of a poet’s name. Some therefore ask, can comedy be thought A real poem since it may be wrought 60 In style and subject without fire or force, And, bate the numbers, is but mere discourse. “ But yet in passion’d tone the sire can chide His spendthrift son, who spurns the portion’d bride And keeps a common wench, or deep in drink 65 Reels in fair daylight (shameful) with his link.” Yet could Pomponius from his father hear, Were he alive, a lecture less severe ? ’Tis not enough your language to refine, When if you break the measures of the line, 70 In common life an angry father’s rage Is but the same as Demea’s on the stage. Take from Lucilius’ verses, or from mine, The cadences and measures of the line ; Then change their order, and the words transpose, 75 No more the scatter’d poet’s limbs it shows; Not so—when hideous discord bursts the bars And iron gates, to pour forth all her wars. Of this enough ; some future work shall show Whether ’tis real poetry or no. 80 Now tell me, whether satire should appear, With reason, such an object of your fear. Sulcius and Caprius, fiercest of their trade, Hoarse with the virulence with which they plead, When through the streets they stalk with libels arm’d, Mark! how the thieves and robbers are alarm’d; 86 But yet the man of honest hands and pure May scorn them both, in innocence secure; Or though like Caclius you a villain be, I’m no informer. Whence you fears of me 1 90 Hor. Vol. I.—T 218 HORACE. With printers and their shops I never deal; No rubric pillar sets my works to sale, O’er which the hands of vulgar readers sweat, Or whose soft strains Tigellius can repeat. Even by my friends compell’d I read my lays, 95 Nor every place, nor every audience please. Full many bards the public forum choose, Where to recite the labours of their muse; Or vaulted baths, that best preserve the sound, While sweetly floats the voice in echoes round. 100 The coxcombs never think at whose expense They thus indulge the dear impertinence. “ But you in libels, mischievous, delight, And never, but in spleen of genius, write.” Is there, with whom I live, who knows my heart, 105 Who taught you how to aim this venom’d dart! He, who malignant tears an absent friend, Or, when attack’d by others, don’t defend ; Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise, And courts of prating petulance the praise ; 110 Of things he never saw who tells his tale, And friendship’s secrets knows not to conceal, This man is vile; here, Roman, fix your mark ; His soul is black, as his complexion’s dark. At tables, crowded with a dozen guests, 115 Some one shall scatter round his frigid jests, And only spare his host, until the bowl, Fair friend of truth, unlocks his inmost soul; Yet, though a cruel joker you detest, He seems a courteous, well-bred, easy guest. 120 But if in idle raillery I said, Rufillus with perfumes distracts my head. While foul Gargonius breathes a ranker air, You think me most envenom’d and severe. If we, by chance, that thief Petilius name, 125 You, as vour custom is, defend his fame. 125 The ancient commentator tells us that Petilius was gov¬ ernor of the capitol, from whence he was called Capitolinus; BOOK I.-SATIRE IV. “ Petilius is my friend; from early youth Cheerful we lived together, and in truth I have been much indebted to his power, And 1 rejoice to find his danger o’er. But, in the name of wonder be it said, At that same trial how he saved his head.” Such rancour this, of such a poisonous vein, As never, never shall my paper stain ; Much less infect my heart, if I may dare For my own heart, in anything, to swear. Yet some indulgence I may justly claim, If too familiar with another’s fame. The best of fathers, on my youthful breast The detestation of a vice impress’d By strong examples. Would he have me live Content with what his industry could give, In frugal, sparing sort, “ Behold, my son, Young Albius there, how wretchedly undone! Yet no mean lesson is the spendthrift’s fate 145 To caution youth from squandering their estate ” To fright me from the harlot’s vagrant bed, “ Behold Scetanius, and his ruin dread That I might ne’er pursue the wedded dame, “ A lawful Venus will indulge your flame. 150 My son, by poor Trebonius be advised ; Sure ’tis no pleasant dale to be surprised.” “ ’Twixt right and wrong the learned may decide, With wise distinctions may your conduct guide ; Be mine the common wisdom, that inspires 155 The frugal manners of our ancient sires, And, while your mouth may yet a tutor claim, To guard your virtue, and preserve your fame, But soon as time confirms, with stronger tone, Your strength and mind, your conduct be your own.” Thus did he form my youth with lenient hand ; 161 When he for virtue urged the soft command, i* ■> * that he was accused of stealing a golden crown of Jupiter, and acquitted by the favour of Augustus. 219 130 135 110 220 HORACE. Pointing some awful senator to view, “ His grave example constantly pursue.” Would he dissuade me; “ Can you doubt,” he cries, “ That equal ruin and dishonour rise 166 From such an action, when that scoundrel’s name Is branded with the flagrant marks of shame V ’ A neighbour’s funeral, with dire affright, Checks the sick man’s intemperate appetite ; 170 So is the shame of others oft impress’d With wholesome terrors on the youthful breast. Thus, pure from more pernicious crimes I live : Some venial frailties you may well forgive, For such I own I have ; and yet even these, 175 A length of time, although by slow degrees, A friend, whose candour freely may reprove, Or my own reason, shall perhaps remove ; For in my bed, or in the colonnade Sauntering, I call reflection to my aid. 180 “ This was well done. Here happiness attends. This conduct makes me pleasing to my friends. Were that man’s actions of a beauteous kind I Oh ! may I never be to such inclined !” Thus, silently I talk my conduct o’er, 185 Or trifle with the muse an idle hour ; For which, among my frailties, I demand Forgiveness, and shall call a powerful band, If you refuse, of poets to my aid, (Well fraught with numbers is the rhyming trade,) To force you like the proselyting Jews, 191 To be, like us, a brother of the muse. 191 Horace knows not any better revenge against the ene¬ mies of poetry than to force them to become poets themselves. This pleasantry arises from the proselyting spirit of the Jews, who insinuated themselves into families ; entered into courts of justice ; disturbed the judges, and were always more success¬ ful in proportion as they were more impudent. Such is the character given them by St. Ambrose. BOOK I.—SATIRE V. 221 SATIRE V. Horace, with great pleasantry, describes a journey of his from Rome to Brundusium. Leaving imperial Rome, my course I steer To poor Aricia, and its moderate cheer. From all the Greeks, in rhetorician lore, The prize of learning my campanion bore. To Forutn-Appii thence we steer, a place 5 Stuff’d with rank boatmen, and with vintners base, And laggard into two days’ journey broke What were but one to less encumber’d folk; The Appian road, however, yields most pleasure To those who choose to travel at their leisure. 10 The water here was of so foul a stream, Against my stomach I a war proclaim, And wait, though not with much good-humour wait, While with keen appetites my comrades ate. The night o’er earth now spread her dusky shade, And through the heavens her starry train display’d; 15 What time, between the slaves and boatmen rise Quarrels of clamorous rout. The boatman cries, “ Step in, my masters;” when with open throat, “ Enough, you scoundrel! will you sink the boat 1” 20 Thus, while the mule is harness’d, and we pay Our freights, an hour in wrangling slips away. The fenny frogs with croakings hoarse and deep, And gnats, loud buzzing, drive away our sleep. Drench’d in the lees of wine, the wat’ry swam, 25 And passenger, in loud alternate strain Chant forth the absent fair, who warms his breast Till wearied passenger retires to rest. Our clumsy bargeman sends his mule to graze, And the tough cable to a rock belays ; 30 7’hen snores supine; but when at rising light Our boat stood still, upstarts a hair-brain’d wight; With sallow cudgel breaks the bargeman’s pate, And bangs the mule at a well favour’d rate. T 2 222 HGRACE. Thence onward labouring with a world of pain, 35 At ten, Feronia, we thy fountain gain; There land and bathe ; then after dinner creep Three tedious miles, and climb the rocky steep Whence Anxur shines. Maecenas was to meet Cocceius here, to settle things of weight; 40 For they had oft in embassy been join’d, And reconciled the masters of mankind. Here while I bathed my eyes with cooling ointment They both arrived according to appointment; Fonteius too, a man of worth approved, 45 And no man more by Antony beloved. Laughing we leave an entertainment rare, The paltry pomp of Fundi’s foolish may’r, The scrivener Luscus : now with pride elate, With incense fumed, and big with robes of state. 50 From thence our wearied troop at Formiae rests, Murena’s lodgers, and Fonteius’ guests. Next rising morn with double joy we greet, For Plotius, Yarius, Virgil here we meet: Pure spirits these; the world no purer knows ; 55 For none my heart with more affection glows: How oft did we embrace ! our joys how great! For sure no blessing in the power of fate Can be compared, in sanity of mind, To friends of such companionable kind. 60 Near the Campanian bridge that night we lay, Where commissaries our expense defray. Early next morn to Capua we came ; Maecenas goes to tennis ; hurtful game To a weak stomach, and to tender eyes, 65 So down to sleep with Virgil Horace lies. Then by Cocceius we were nobly treated, Whose house above the Caudian tavern’s seated. And now, oh muse! in faithful numbers tell The memorable squabble that befell, 70 69 This little scene is of much natural pleasanty, »aised by a spirited ridicule. The poet invokes his muse with much BOOK I.-SATIRE 223 When Messius and Sarmentus join’d in fight, And whence descended each illustrious wight. Messius, of high descent, from Osci came ; His mistress might her slave Sarmentus claim. From such famed ancestry our champions rise— 75 “ Hear me, thou horse-faced rogue,” Sarmentus cries: We laugh; when Messius, throwing up his head, Accepts the challenge. “ Oh !” Sarmentus said, “If you can threaten now, what would you do, Had not the horn been rooted out, that grew 80 Full in thy front 1” A gash of deep disgrace Had stain’d the grisly honours of his face. Then on his country’s infamous disease, And his own face, his ribaldry displays : Begs him the one-eyed Cyclops’ part to dance, 85 Since he nor mask nor tragic buskins wants. Messius replied in virulence of strain : “ Did you to Saturn consecrate your chain 1 Though you were made a scrivener since your flight, Yet that can never hurt your lady’s right. 90 But, prithee, wherefore did you run away 1 Methinks a single pound of bread a day Might such a sleek, thin-gutted rogue content And thus the jovial length of night we spent. At our next inn our host was almost bum’d, 95 While some lean thrushes at the fire he turn’d. Through his old kitchen rolls the god of fire, And to the roof the vagrant flames aspire. But hunger all our terrors overcame, We fly to save our meat, and quench the flame. 100 Apulia now my native mountain shows, Where the north wind burns frore, and parching blows; Nor could we well have climb’d the steepy height Did we not at a neighbouring village bait, solemnity to describe an action of importance, and gives us the genealogy of his combatants, as if they were heroes worthy of an ©pic poem.— San. 224 HORACE. Where from green wood the smouldering flames arise, And with a smoky sorrow fill our eyes. 106 In chariots thence at a large rate we came Eight leagues, and baited at a town, whose name Cannot in verse and measures be express’d, But may by marks and tokens well be guess’d. 110 Its water, nature’s cheapest element, Is bought and sold; its bread most excellent; Which wary travellers provide with care, And on their shoulders to Canusium bear ; Whose bread is gritty, and its wealthiest stream 115 Poor as the town’s of unpoetic name. Here Varius leaves us, and with tears he goes: With equal tenderness our‘sorrow flows. Onward to Rubi wearily we toil’d, The journey long, the road with rain was spoil’d. 120 To Barium, famed for fish, we reach’d next day, The weather fair, but much worse the way. Then water-cursed Egnatia gave us joke, And laughter great, to hear the moon-struck folk Assert, if incense on their altars lay, - 125 Without the help of fire it melts away. The sons of circumcision may receive The wondrous tale, which I shall ne’er believe; For I have better learn’d, in blissful ease That the good gods enjoy immortal days, 130 Nor anxiously their native skies forsake, When miracles the laws of nature break. From thence our travels to Brundusium bend, Where our long journey and my paper end. 130 Such were the gods of Epicurus : indolent and useless to mankind, consequently unworthy of adoration. The name of nature was used to explain any miraculous or unaccountable act of Providence, or the power of fortune was substituted in the place of a deity. A concern for mortals was too serious, tristis, for gods, whose whole being was pleasure. 133 Brundusium was about three hundred and sixty miles from Rome. They performed the journey in fourteen days and a night, about four-and-twenty miles a day. BOOK I.-SATIRE VI. 225 SATIRE VI.—TO MAECENAS. In this satire the poet treats on true nobility. t Though, since the Lydians fill’d the Tuscan coasts, No richer blood than yours Etruria boasts; Though your great ancestors have armies led, You don’t, as many do, with scorn.upbraid The man of birth unknown, or turn the nose 9 On me, w'ho from a race of slaves arose: While you regard not from what low degree A man’s descended, if his mind be free ; Convinced, that long before th’ ignoble reign And power of Tullius, from a servile train 10 Full many rose for virtue high renown’d, By worth ennobled, and with honours crown’d: While he, who boasts that ancient race his own Which drove the haughty Tarquin from the throne, Is vile and worthless in the poet’s eyes: 15 The people, who, you know r , bestow the prize To men most worthless, and, like slaves to fame, With foolish reverence hail a titled name ; And, rapt with awe-struck admiration, gaze When the long race its images displays. 20 But how shall we, who differ far and wide From the mere vulgar, this great point decide ? For grant, the crowd some high-birth’d scoundrel choose, And to the low-born man of worth refuse (Because low born) the honours of the state, 25 Shall we from thence their vice or virtue rate? Were I expell’d the senate-house with scorn, Justly, perhaps, because thus meanly born, I fondly wander’d from my native sphere ; Yet shall I with less real worth appear? 30 Chain’d to her beamy car fame drags along The mean, the great; an undistinguish’d throng. Poor Tillius, when compell’d in luckless hour To quit your purple robe and tribune’s power, 226 HORACE. A larger share of envy was thy fate, 35 Which had been lessen’d in a private state ; For in black sandals when a coxcomb’s dress’d, When floats the robe impurpled down his breast, Instant, “ What man is this ?” he round him hears ; “ And who his father?” As when one appears 40 Sick of your fever, Barrus, to desire That all the world his beauty should admire, Anxious our girls inquire, “ What mien and air! What leg and foot he has! what teeth and hair!” So he, who promises to guard the state, 45 The gods, the temples, and th’ imperial seat, Makes every mortal ask his father’s name, And not less curious of his mother’s fame. “And shall a Syrian’s son, like you, presume To hurl the freeborn citizens of Rome 50 From the Tarpeian rock’s tremendous height, Or to the hangman Cadmus give their fate?” Tillius. My colleague sits below me one degree, For Novius, like my father, was made free. Horace. Shall you for this a true Messala seem, 55 And rise a Paulus in your own esteem ? But when two hundred wagons crowd the street, And three long funerals in procession meet, Beyond the fifes and horns his voice he raises, And sure such strength of lungs a wondrous praise is. As for myself, a freedman’s son confess’d ; 61 A freedman’s son, the public scorn and jest, That now with you I joy the social hour, That once a Roman legion own’d my power; But though they envied my command in war 65 Justly perhaps, yet sure ’tis different far To gain your friendship, where no servile art, Where only men of merit claim a part. Nor yet to chance this happiness I owe; Friendship like yours it had not to bestow. 70 First, my best Virgil, then my Variustold, Among my friends what character I hold ; BOOK I. -SATIRE VI. 227 When introduced, in few and faltering words (Such as an infant modesty affords) I did not tell you my descent was great, 75 Or that I wander’d round my country seat On a proud steed in richer pastures bred ; But what I really was, I frankly said. Short was your answer, in your usual strain; I take my leave, nor wait on you again, 80 Till, nine months past, engaged and bid to hold A place among your nearer friends enroll’d. An honour this, methinks, of nobler kind, That innocent of heart and pure of mind, Though with no titled birth, I gain’d his love, 85 Whose judgment can discern, whose choice approve. If some few venial faults deform my soul, (Like a fair face when spotted with a mole,) If none with avarice justly brand my fame With sordidness, or deeds too vile to name: 90 If pure and innocent: if dear (forgive These little praises') to my friends I live, My father was the cause, who, though maintain’d By a lean farm but poorly, yet disdain’d The country schoolmaster, to whose low care 95 The mighty captain sent his high-born heir, With satchel, copy-book, and pelf to pay The wretched teacher on th’ appointed day. To Rome by this bold father was I brought, To learn those arts which well-born youth are taught; So dress’d and so attended, you would swear 101 I was some senator’s expensive heir; Himself my guardian, of unblemish’d truth, Among my tutors would attend my youth, And thus preserved my chastity of mind, 105 (That prime of virtue in its highest kind,) 93 This little episode, if it may be so called, is of great beau¬ ty, and does much honour both to the father and son. It shows that greatness of sentiments and goodness of heart are not con¬ fined to people of birth and fortune .—San 228 HORACE. Not only pure from guilt, but even the shame That might with vile suspicion hurt my fame : Nor feard’d to be reproach’d, although my fate Should fix my fortune in some meaner state, 110 From which some trivial perquisites arise, Or make me, like himself, collector of excise. For this my heart, far from complaining, pays A larger debt of gratitude and praise ; Nor, while my senses hold, shall I repent 115 Of such a father, nor with pride resent, As many do, th’ involuntary disgrace Not to be born of an illustrious race. But not with theirs my sentiments agree, Or language ; for if nature should decree 120 That we from any stated point might live Our former years, and to our choice should give The sires, to whom we wish’d to be allied, Let others choose to gratify their pride ; While I, contended with my own, resign 125 The titled honours of an ancient line. This may be madness in the people’s eyes. But in your judgment not, perhaps, unwise ; That I refuse to bear a pomp of state, Unused and much unequal to the weight. 13(1 Instant a larger fortune must be made : To purchase votes my low addresses paid; Whether a jaunt or journey I propose, With me a crowd of new companions goes ; While, anxious to complete a length of train, 135 Domestics, horses, chariots, I maintain. But now, as chance or pleasure is my guide, Upon my bob-tail’d mule alone I ride. Gall’d is his crupper with my wallet’s weight; His shoulder shows his rider’s awkward seat. 140 Yet no penurious vileness e’er shall stain My name ; as when, great pretor, with your train Of five poor slaves, you carry where you dine Your travelling kitchen, and your flask of wine. BOOK I.—SATIRE VI. 229 Thus have I greater blessings in my power 145 Than you, proud senator, and thousands more. Alone I wander, as by fancy led, I cheapen herbs, or ask the price of bread ; I listen, while diviners tell their tale, Then homeward hasten to my frugal meal, 150 Herbs, pulse, and pancakes ; each a separate plate ; While three domestics at my supper wait. A bowl on a white marble table stands, Two goblets, and a ewer to wash my hands ; A hallow’d cup of true Campanian clay 155 My pure libations to the gods to pay. I then retire to rest, nor anxious fear Before dread Marsyas early to appear, Whose very statue swears it cannot brook The meanness of that slave-born judge’s look. 160 I sleep till ten; then take a walk, or choose A book, perhaps, or trifle with the muse : For cheerful exercise and manly toil Anoint my body with the aliant oil, But not with such as Natta’s, when he vamps 165 His filthy limbs, and robs the public lamps. But when the sun pours down his fiercer fire, And bids me from the toilsome sport retire, I haste to bathe, then decently regale My craving stomach with a frugal meal, 170 Enough to nourish nature for a day, Then trifle my domestic hours away. Such is the life from bad ambition free ; Such comfort has the man low-born like me: With which I feel myself more truly bless’d 175 Than if my sires the questor’s power possess’d. 158 A satyr, who, challenging Apollo to a trial of skill in mu¬ sic, was overcome and flayed alive by the god. A statue was erected to him in the forum, opposite to the rostra, where the judges determined causes; and the poet pleasantly says it stood in such an attitude, as showed its indignation to behold a man who had been a slave now sitting among the magistrates of Rome. The satyr, in his resentment of such a sight, forgets the pain of being flayed alive.— Torr. Hob. Vol. I.—U 230 HORACE. SATIRE VII. Horace humorously describes a squabble between Rupilius and Persius. How mongrel Persius in his wrathful mood That outlaw’d wretch, Rupilius King, pursued With poisonous filth, and venom all his own, To barbers, and to blear-eyed folk is known. Persius had wealth by foreign traffic gain’d, 5 And a vexatious suit with King maintain’d. Presumptuous, vain, and obstinate the wight, Conquering even King in virulence of spite ; In bitterness of speech outstripp’d the wind, And left the swift-tongued Barrus far behind. 10 Now to the King returns our wandering tale, When all fair means of reconcilement fail; (For men are obstinate when war’s proclaim’d, As they with inward courage are inflamed ; When Hector and Achilles fierce engaged, 15 Dire was the conflict, and to death they raged: And why! because the gallant thirst of fame, The love of glory, was in both extreme. But if a quarrel between cowards rise, Or between chiefs of less heroic size, 20 Glaucus to Diomed is forced to yield, The dastard buys his peace, and quits the field.) What time o’er Asia with pretorial sway Great Brutus ruled, began this dire affray. Persius and King, intrepid pair, engage, 25 (More equal champions never mounted stage,) And now they rush impetuous into court, Fine was the sight, and delicate the sport. 1 Persius was a week by his lather, and an Italian by his mo¬ ther. The Romans gave the name of ibrida to them whose pa¬ rents were of different nations, or of different conditions.— Torr. 2 Publius Rupilius Rex, a native of Praeneste, being proscribed by Augustas during the triumvirate, engaged in the army of Brutus. Jealous of our author’s military advancement, he re¬ proached him with the meanness of his birth.— San. BOOK I.-SATIRE VIII. 231 Persius begins ; loud bursts of laughter rise ; He praises Brutus, Brutus, to the skies : 30 “ Brutus, like Sol, o’er Asia pours the day; His friends are stars, and healthful is their ray, Except the King; he like the dogstar reigns, That dog of heaven, detested by the swains.” Thus rush’d he onward like a winter flood, 35 That tears its banks, and sweeps away the wood. To this impetuous bitterness of tide The King with equal virulence replied. A vine-dresser he was, of rustic tone, Whom oft the traveller was forced to own 40 Invincible ; with clamorous voice opress’d, When cuckoo, cuckoo, was the standing jest. But, with Italian vinegar imbued, The sour-tongued mongrel the dispute renew’d , “ Let me conjure thee, by the powers divine, 45 Since ’tis the glory, Brutus, of thy line To slaughter kings, be this thy glorious deed, That this same King beneath thy vengeance bleed.” 42 Many wise reasons are given why the name of this bird should be a term of reproach, for such it is, in almost all lan¬ guages. The best account of it is, that the cuckoo sleeps half the year, and leaves the care of his family to others. 46 It was an hereditary glory in the family of Brutus to abol¬ ish tyranny and punish tyrants. Lucius Junius Brutus expelled having the last monarch of Rome. Marcus and Decius Brutus, killed Julius Caesar, proclaimed through the streets that they had destroyed the king of Rome, and the tyrant of his country. SATIRE VIII. Priapus complains that the Esquillian mount is infested with the incantations of sorceresses. . I. In days of yore our godship stood, A very worthless log of wood, The joiner doubting, or to shape us Into a stool, or a Priapus, At length resolved, for reasons wise. Into a god to bid me rise; 5 232 HORACE. And now to birds and thieves I stand A terror great. With ponderous hand, And something else as red as scarlet, I fright away each filching varlet. The birds, that view with awful dread The reeds, fast stuck into my head, Far from the garden take their flight, Nor on the trees presume to light. In coffins vile the herd of slaves Were hither brought to crowd their graves; And once in this detested ground A common tomb the vulgar found; Buffoons and spendthrifts, vile and base, Together rotted here in peace. A thousand feet the front extends, Three hundred deep in rear it bends, And yonder column plainly shows No more unto its heirs it goes. But now we breathe a purer air, And walk the sunny terrace fair, Where once the ground with bones was whi With human bones, a ghastly sight! But, oh ! nor thief, nor savage beast, That used these gardens to infest, E’er gave me half such cares and pains As they, who turn poor people’s brains With venom’d drugs and magic lay— These I can never fright away; For when the beauteous queen of night Uplifts her head adorn’d with light, Hither they come, pernicious crones ! To gather poisonous herbs and bones. Canidia with dishevell’d hair, (Black was her robe, her feet were bare.) With Sagana, infernal dame ! Her elder sister, hither came. With yellings dire they fill’d the place, And hideous pale was either’s face. BOOK I.-SATIRE VIII. 233 Soon with their nails they scraped the ground, And fill’d a magic trench profound 46 With a black lamb’s thick-streaming gore, Whose members with their teeth they tore, That they may charm the sprights to tell Some curious anecdotes from hell. 50 The beldams then two figures brought; Of wool and wax the forms were wrought : The woollen was erect and tall, And scourged the waxen image small, Which in a suppliant, servile mood, 55 With dying air just gasping stood. On Hecate one beldam calls ; The other to the furies bawls, While serpents crawl along the ground, And Stygian she-dogs howl around. 60 The blushing moon, to shun the sight, Behind a tomb withdrew her light. Oh! if I lie, may ravens shed Their ordure on my sacred head! Not to be tedious, or repeat 65 How flats and sharps in concert meet, With which the ghosts and hags maintain A dialogue of passing strain; Or how, to hide the tooth of snake And beard of wolf, the ground they break ; 70 Or how the fire of magic seized The waxen form, and how it blazed; Mark how my vengeance I pursued For all I heard, for all I view’d. Loud as a bladder bursts its wind, 75 Dreadful it thunder’d from behind. To town they scamper’d, struck with fear, This lost her teeth, and that her hair. They dropp’d the bracelets from their arms, Their incantations, herbs, and charms; 80 Whoe’er had-seen them in their flight Had burst with laughing at the sight. T 2 234 HORACE. SATIRE IX. The poet describes his sufferings from the loquacity of an imper¬ tinent fellow. Musing, as wont, on this and that, Such trifles, as I know not what, When late the street I saunter’d through, A wight, whose name I hardly knew, Approaching pertly makes me stand, 5 And thus accosts me, hand-in-hand: “ How do you do, my sweetest man 1” Quoth I, “ As well as mortal can, And my best wishes yours”—when he Would follow—“ What’s your will with me 1” 10 “ That one of your profound discerning Should know me : I’m a man of learning.”— Why then be sure upon that score You merit my regard the more.” Impatient to discard the fop, 15 One while I run, another stop, And whisper, as he presses near, Some nothing in my servant’s ear. But while at every pore I sweated, And thus in muttering silence fretted— 20 “ Bolanus, happy in a scull Of proof impenetrably dull, Oh for a portion of thy brains 1” He on the town and streets and lanes His parting, praising talent tried, 25 And, when I answered not, he cried, “ Ay, ’tis too plain; you can’t deceive me, You miserably wish to leave me; But I shall never quit you so ; Command me—whither would you go 1 ?”— 30 “ You do me honour—but, in short, There’s not the least occasion for’t. BOOK I.—SATIRE IX. 235 I visit one—to cut the strife, You never saw him in your life ; Nor would I lead you such a round- 35 He lives above a mile of ground Beyond the Tiber.” “ Never talk Of distance, for I love a'walk. I never have the least enjoyment In idleness : I want employment. 40 Come on; I must and will attend Your person to your journey’s end.” Like vicious ass, that fretting bears A wicked load, I hang my ears; While he, renewing his civilities, 45 “ If well I know my own abilities, Not Yiscus, though your friend of yore, Not Yarius could engage you more; For who can write melodious lays With greater elegance or ease ! 50 Who moves with smoother grace his limbs While through the mazy dance he swims ! Besides, I sing to that degree, Hermogenes might envy me.” Have you no mother, sister, friends, o5 Whose welfare on your health depends!— “ Not one; I saw them all by turns Securely settled in their urns.” Thrice happy they, secure from pain! And I thy victim now remain; 60 Despatch me ; for my goody nurse Early presaged this heavy curse : She conn’d it by the sieve and shears, And now it falls upon my ears— Nor poison fell, with ruin stored, 65 Nor horrid point of hostile sword, Nor pleurisy, nor asthma cough, Nor cripple gout shall cut him off: A noisy tongue, and babbling breath, Shall teaze and talk mv child to death. 70 236 HORACE. But if he would avert his fate, When he arrives at man’s estate. Let him avoid, as he would hanging, Your folks long-winded in haranguing. We came to Vesta’s about ten, 75 And he was bound in person then To stand a suit, or by the laws He must have forfeited his cause. “ Sir, if you love me, step aside A little into court,” he cried. 80 “ If I can stand it out,” quoth I, “ Or know the practice, let me die! Besides, I am obliged to go Precisely to the place you know.”— “ I am divided what to do, 85 Whether to leave my cause, or you.”— “ Sir, 1 beseech you spare your pains. Your humble servant—” “ By no means.” I follow, for he leads the way; ’Tis death; but captives must obey. 90 Then he renews his plaguy strain, as, How stands your friendship with Maecenas V ’ For friendships he contracts but few, And shows in that his judgment true.— “ Commend me to your brother bard, 95 No man has play’d a surer card. But you should have a man of art; One who might act an under part. If you were pleased to recommend The man I mentioned to your friend, 100 Sir, may I never see the light But you shall rout your rivals quite!”— We live not there, as you suppose, On such precarious terms as those : No family was ever purer, 105 From such infections none securer. It never hurts me in the least, That one excels in wealth or taste; BOOK I.-SATIRE IX. 237 Each person there of course inherits A place proportion’d to his merits— 110 “ ’Tis wonderful, and to be brief, A thing almost beyond belief.”— But, whether you believe, or no, The matter is exactly so. “ This adds but fuel to the fire, 115 The more you kindle my desire To kiss his hand, and pay my court.”— Assail, and you shall take the fort, Such is the vigour of your wit, And he is one who can submit; 120 The first attack is therefore nice, The matter is to break the ice. “ I shan’t be wanting there,” he cried, “ I’ll bribe his servants to my side ; To-day shut out, still onward press, 125 And watch the seasons of access ; In private haunt, in public meet, Salute, escort him through the street. There’s nothing gotten in this life Without a word of toil and strife !” 130 While thus he racks my tortured ears, A much-loved friend of mine appears, Aristius Fuscus, one who knew My sweet companion through and through. We stop, exchanging “ So and so 135 “ Whence come, and whither do you go I then began in woful wise To nod my head, distort my eyes, And pull his renegado sleeve, That he would grant me a reprieve ; 140 But he was absent all the while, Malicious with a leering smile. Provoked at his dissimulation, I burst with spleen and indignation. “ I know not what you had to tell 145 In private.” I remember well: # 238 HOHACE. But shall a day of business choose, This is the sabbath of the Jews ; You would not thus offend the leathern- curtail’d assemblies of the brethren— 150 “ I have no scruples, by your leave, On that account.” But, sir, I have : I am a little superstitious. Like many of the crowd, capricious : Forgive me, if it be a crime, 155 And I shall talk another time. Oh! that so black a sun should rise! Away the cruel creature flies, And leaves me panting for my life, Aghast beneath the butcher’s knife. 160 At last, by special act of grace, The plaintiff meets him face to face, And bawls as loud as he could bellow, “ Ha! whither now, thou vilest fellow 1 Sir, will you witness to my capture 1” 165 I signified I would with rapture ; And then, to magnify the sport, He drags my prattler into court; And thus, amid the noise and rabble, Apollo saved me in the squabble. 170 148 Augustus, in imitation of Julius Csesar, allowed the Jews uncommon privileges. He not only permitted them an undis¬ turbed enjoyment of their religion, but established funds that they might offer a bull and two lambs in the Temple of Jerusa¬ lem every day for him and his family.— Dac. SATIRE X. Horace supports the judgment he had before given of Lucilius, and intersperses some excellent precepts for the writing of satire. Yes, I did say Lucilius’ verses roll’d In ruder style precipitately bold ; BOOK I.—SATIRE X. 239 Who reads Lucilius with so fond an eye, Partially fond, who can this*charge deny ? But, that with wit he lash’d a vicious age, 5 He’s frankly praised in the same equal page. Should I grant more, I may as well admit Laberius’ farces elegantly writ. ’Tis not enough a bursting laugh to raise, Yet even this talent may deserve its praise : 10 Concise your diction ; let your sense be clear, Nor with a weight of words fatigue the ear. Now change from grave to gay with ready art, Now play the orator’s, or poet’s part; In raillery assume a gayer air, 15 Discreetly hide your strength, your vigour spare; For ridicule shall frequently prevail, And cut the knot, when graver reasons fail. The ancient writers of the comic stage Our imitation here may well engage, 20 Though read not by Tigellius, smooth of face, Or yonder ape, of horrible grimace. Calvus, Catullus better suit their vein, Whose wanton songs they chant in tuneful strain. But yet a mighty feat it must be thought— 25 “ His motley page with Greek and Latin’s wrought!” Blockheads ! who think it wonderful or hard, So oft perform’d by yonder Rhodian bard. “ But languages each other may refine, (As Chian softens the Falernian wine,) 30 At least in verse.” But say, my rhyming friend, Were you that thief Petilius to defend, While other lawyers sweated in the cause, And urged in pure Latinity the laws : While wondering crowds upon their language hung, Would you, forgetful of your native tongue, 30 In foreign words and broken phrases speak, The half-form’d jargon of a mongrel Greek! In Latium born, I once proposed to write Some Grecian versicles, in deep of night 40 240 HORACE. (When dreams, they say, are true) Rome’s founder rose, And awful spake : “You may as well propose To carry timber to a wood, as throng The crowded writers of the Grecian song.” Let swelling Furius on th’ affrighted stage 45 Murder poor Memnon, or in muddy rage Describe the head of Rhine ; in idle vein I write, what never shall presume to gain The prize, where Metius high in judgment sits To hear the labours of contending wits : 50 Or where the people with applauding hands The well-wrought scene repeatedly demands. Of all mankind, in light and easy vein Fundanius best can paint the comic scene, The wily harlot, and the slave who join 55 To wipe the miser of his darling coin. Pollio in pure iambic numbers sings The tragic deeds of heroes and of kings; While Varius in sublime and ardent vein Supports the grandeur of the epic strain. 60 On Virgil all the rural muses smile, Smooth flow his lines, and elegant his style. Satire alone remain’d, no easy strain, Which Varro, and some others, tried in vain, While I, perhaps, some slight success may claim, 65 Though far inferior to th’ inventor’s fame: Nor from his head shall I presume to tear That sacred wreath, he well deserves to wear. 1 said, his verse in muddy rapture flows, And more his errors than his beauties shows ; 70 But, prithee, you that boast a critic’s name, Don’t you sometimes the mighty Homer blame 1 Does not Lucilius, though of gentle strain, Correct even Accius, and reform his scene? And in his pleasantry old Ennius rate, 75 When his dull lines want dignity and weight 1 Yet when he speaks of his own right to fame. Confesses frankly their superior claim. BOOK I.—SATIRE X. 241 What then forbids our equal right to know Why his own verses inharmonious flow 1 80 Or whether in his subject lies the fault, Or in himself, that they’re not higher wrought, Than if the art of verse were to confine In ten low feet a cold, dull length of line, Content his rhyming talents to display 85 In twice a hundred verses twice a day. Such, Cassius, thy rapidity of song, Which like a foaming river pour’d along, Whose volumed works (if fame be not a liar) Kindled around thy corse the funeral fire. 90 Lucilius rallies with politer ease Than all the rhyming tribe of ancient days, Nay more correct than him (I frankly own) Who form’d this kind of verse, to Greece unknown; Yet, were he fated to the present age, 95 He sure had blotted the redundant page ; Pruned all luxuriant excellence away, And while he labour’d o’er th’ instructive lay Would often scratch his head in dull despair, And to the quick his nails bemusing tear. 100 Would you a reader’s just esteem engage, Correct with frequent care the blotted page; Nor strive the wonder of the crowd to raise, But the few better judges learn to please. Be thine, fond madman, some vile school to choose, Where to repeat the labours of your muse, 106 While I, like hiss’d Arbuscula unaw’d, Despise the vulgar, since the knights applaud. Say, shall that bug Pantilius move my spleen 1 Shall I be tortured, when a wretch obscene, 110 Or foolish Fannius, for a sordid treat With sweet Tigellius, shall my verses rate 1 Let Plotius, Varius, and Maecenas deign With Virgil, Valgius, to approve my strain ; Let good Octavius even endure my lays ; 115 Let Fuscus read, and either Viscus praise • Hor. Vol. I.—X 242 HORACE. Let me, with no mean arts to purchase fame, Pollio, Messala, and his brother name: Let Bibulus and Servins be my own, And Furnius for a critic’s candor known; Among' my learned friends are many more, Whose names I pass in modest silence o’er; These I can wish to smile ; enjoy their praise ; Hope to delight, and grieve if I displease. Be gone, Demetrius, to thy lovesome train. Of minstrel scholars, and in sighing strain, With soft Hermogenes these rhymes deplore— Haste, boy, transcribe me this one satire more. BOOK II. SATIRE I * Horace, in this ode, is supposed to consult Trebatius, whether he should desist from writing satires. Horace. There ere, to whom too poignant I appear ; Beyond the laws of satire too severe. My lines are weak, unsinew’d, others say “ A man might spin a thousand such a day.” What shall I do, Trebatius 1 Trebalius. Write no more. H. W'hat! give the dear delight of scribbling o’er ? 5 T. Yes. H. Let me die but your advice were best. But, sir, I cannot sleep ; I cannot rest. T. Swim o’er the Tiber, if you want to sleep. Or the dull sense in t’other bottle steep: 10 If you must write, to Caesar tune your lays, Indulge your genius, and your fortune raise. H. Oh! were I equal to the glorious theme, Bristled with spears his iron war should gleam : A thousand darts should pierce the hardy Gaul, 15 And from his horse the wounded Parthian fall. T. Then give his peaceful virtues forth to fame j His fortitude and justice be your theme. * In his first book of satires our poet opposes the vices of mankind; in this he refutes the false opinions of the philoso¬ phers. Such a design requires more force and more erudition than the former. The reader may therefore expect to find this book better supported with reasoning and learning than the first. 15 The Gauls of Aquitam having rebelled in 726, Octavius sent Messula, with the title of governor of the province, to re¬ duce them to his obedience. He conquered them the year fol¬ lowing, and had the honour of a triumph the twenty-fifth of Sep¬ tember.— San. 244 HORACE. H. Yes. I will hold the daring theme in view, Perhaps hereafter your advice pursue. 20 But Caesar never will your Flaccus hear; A languid panegyric hurts his ear. Too strongly guarded from the poet’s lays, He spurns the flatterer, and his saucy praise. T. Better even this, than cruelly defame, 25 And point buffoons and villains out by name. Sure to be hated even by those you spare, Who hate in just proportion as they fear. H. Tell me, Trebatius, are not all mankind To different pleasures, different whims inclined 1 30 Millonius dances when his head grows light, And the dim lamp shines double to his sight. The twin-born brothers in their sports divide; Pollux loves boxing; Castor joys to ride. Indulge me then in this my sole delight, 35 Like great and good Lucilius let me write. Behold him frankly to his book impart, As to a friend, the secrets of his heart: To write was all his aim ; too heedless bard, And well or ill, unworthy his regard. 40 Hence the old man stands open to your view, Though with a careless hand the piece he drew. His steps I follow in pursuit of fame, Whether Lucania or Apulia claim The honour of my birth ; for on the lands, 45 By Samnites once possess’d, Venusium stands, A forward barrier, as old tales relate, To stop the course of war, and guard the state. Let this digression, as it may, succeed— No honest man shall by my satire bleed; 50 It guards me like a sword, and safe it lies Within the sheath, till villains round me rise. Dread king and father of the mortal race, Behold me, harmless bard, how fond of peace ! And may all kinds of mischief-making steel 55 In rust, eternal rust, thy vengeance feel! BOOK II.—SATIRE I. 245 But who provokes me, or attacks my fame, “ Better not touch me, friend,” I loud exclaim ; His eyes shall weep the folly of his tongue, By laughing' crowds in rueful ballad sung. 60 Th’ informer Cervius threatens with the laws; Turius your judge, you surely lose your cause : Are you the object of Canidia’s hate? Drugs, poisons, incantations, are your fate: For powerful nature to her creatures shows 65 With various arms to terrify their foes. The wolf with teeth, the bull with horns can fight; Whence, but from instinct, and an inward light ? His long-lived mother trust to Scaeva’s care— T. No deed of blood his pious hand could dare. 70 H. Wondrous indeed! that bulls ne’er strive to bite, Nor wolves, with desperate horns engage in fight; No mother’s blood the gentle Scaeva spills, But with a draught of honey’d poison kills. Then, whether age my peaceful hours attend, 75 Or death his sable pinions round me bend ; Or rich, or poor; at Rome ; to exile driven ; Whatever lot by powerful fate is given, Yet write I will. T. Oh boy, thy fate is sped, 79 And short thy days. Some lord shall strike thee dead, Whth freezing look— H. What! in his honest page When good Lucilius lash’d a vicious age, From conscious villains tore the mask away, And stripp’d them naked to the glare of day, Were Laslius or his friend, (whose glorious name 85 From conquer’d Carthage deathless rose to fame,) Were they displeased, when villains and their crimes Were cover’d o’er with infamy and rhymes? The factious demagogue he made his prize, And durst the people tribe by tribe chastise ; 90 Yet true to virtue, and to virtue’s friends, To them alone with reverence he bends. When Scipio’s virtue, and, of milder vein, When Laelius’ wisdom, from the busy scene, X 2 246 HORACE. And crowd of life, the vulgar and the great, Could with their favourite satirist retreat, 95 Lightly they laugh’d at many an idle jest, Until their frugal feast of herbs was dress’d. What though with great Lucilius I disclaim All saucy rivalship of birth or fame, 100 Spite of herself even envy must confess That I the friendship of the great possess, And, if she dare attempt my honest fame, Shall break her teeth against my solid name. This is my plea ; on this I rest my cause— 105 What says my counsel, learned in the laws 1 T. Your case is clearer; yet let me advise; For sad mishaps from ignorance arise. Behold the pains and penalties decreed To libellers— H. To libellers indeed! 110 But, if with truth his characters he draws, Even Caesar shall support the poet’s cause; The formal process shall be turn’d to sport, And you dismiss’d with honour by the court. 102 Lucilius was of a patrician family, and a Roman knight, which makes our poet allow him a superiority of birth and for¬ tune ; but he might compare with him in more valuable advan¬ tages. It appears by some fragments of letters, that Horace did not live in less domestic familiarity with Augustus and Maece¬ nas than Lucilius did with Scipio and Laelius. If he does not boast so much of this honour, it is an effect of his discretion and his modesty.— San. SATIRE TI. On frugality. What, and how great the virtue, friends, to live On what the gods with frugal bounty give, (Nor are they mine, but sage Ofellus’ rules Of mother-wit, and wise without the schools,) 3 Horace, with much good reason, avoids making himself an orator for temperance. He was a speculative Epicurean, but a practical disciple of Aristippus, and after giving us most excel BOOK II.-SATIRE II. 247 Come learn with me, but learn before ye dine, 5 Ere with luxurious pomp the table shine; Ere yet its madding- splendours are display’d, That dull the sense, and the weak mind mislead. Yet why before we dine ? I’ll tell ye, friends, A judge, when bribed, but ill to truth attends. 10 Pursue the chase: th’ unmanaged courser rein: Or, if the Roman war ill suit thy vein, To Grecian revels form’d, at tennis play, Or at the manly discus waste the day ; With vigour hurl it through the yielding air; 15 (The sport shall make the labour less severe ;) Then, when the loathings that from surfeits rise Are quell’d by toil, a homely meal despise; Then the Falernian grape with pride disclaim, Unless with honey we correct its flame. 20 Your butler strolls abroad; the winter’d sea Defends its fish; but you can well allay The stomach’s angry roar with bread and salt. Whence can this rise, you ask, from whence the fault? In you consists the pleasure of the treat, 25 Not in the price, or flavour of the meat. Let exercise give relish to the dish, Since nor the various luxuries of fish, Nor foreign wild fowl can delight the pale, Surfeit-swoln guest; yet I shall ne’er prevail 30 To make our men of taste a pullet choose, And the gay peacock with its train refuse ; For the rare bird at mighty price is sold ; And, lo ! what wonders from its tail unfold! lent precepts of frugality, would not unwillingly have left his plate of herbs for a more luxurious entertainment. Besides, he would give weight to his maxims by the sober example of the speaker.— Dac. 32 Quintus Hortensius was the first who gave the Romans a taste for peacocks, and it soon became so fashionable a dish, that all people of fortune had it at their tables. Cicero pleasantly says, he had the boldness to invite Hirtius to sup with him, even without a peacock. 248 HORACE. But can these whims a higher gusto raise, 35 Unless you eat the plumage that you praise 1 Or do its glories, when ’tis boil’d, remain 1 ? No; ’tis til’ unequall’d beauty of its train Deludes your eye, and charms you to the feast, For hens and peacocks are alike in taste 40 But say, by what discernment are you taught To know that this voracious pike was caught Where the full river’s lenient waters glide, Or where the bridges break the rapid tide; In the mild ocean, or where Tiber pays 45 With broader coarse his tribute to the seas 1 Madly you praise the mullet’s three pound weight, And yet you stew it piecemeal ere you eat; Your eye deceives you ; wherefore else dislike The natural greatness of a full-grown pike, 50 Yet in a mullet so much joy express 1 “ Pikes are by nature large, and mullets less.” “ Give me,” the harpy-throated glutton cries, “ In a large dish, a mullet’s largest size Descend, ye southern winds, propitious haste, 55 And dress his dainties for this man of taste. And yet it needs not; for when such excess Shall his o’er-jaded appetite oppress, The new-caught turbot’s tainted ere he eat, And bitter herbs are a delicious treat. 60 But still some ancient poverty remains ; The egg and olive yet a place maintains At great men’s tables ; nor, till late, the fame Of a whole sturgeon damn’d a pretor’s name. Did ocean then a smaller turbot 3 neld 1 65 The towering stork did once in safety build 66 The storks built their nest in safety, until the time of Au¬ gustus. Asinius Sempronius, or, according to others, Rutilius Rufus, when a candidate for the pretorship, entertained the peo¬ ple with a dish of storks. But the people revenged the death of the poor birds, by refusing the pretorship to their murderer From this refusal the poet pleasantly calls him pretor .^Torr BOOK II.-SATIRE II. 249 Her airy nest, nor was the turbot caught Till your great pretor better precepts taught. Tell them, that roasted cormorants are a feast, Our docile youth obey the man of taste ; 70 But sage Ofellus marks a decent mean A sordid, and a frugal meal between ; For a profuse expense in vain you shun If into sordid avarice you run. Avidienus, who by public fame 75 Was call’d “the dog,” and merited the name, Wild cornels, olives five years’ old, devour’d; Nor, till his wine was turn’d, his pure libations pour’d. When robed in white he mark’d with festal mirth His day of marriage, or his hour of birth, 80 From his one bottle, of some two pound weight, With oil, of execrable stench, replete, With his own hand he dropp’d his cabbage o’er, But spared his oldest vinegar no more. How shall the wise decide, thus urged between 85 The proverb’s ravening wolf, and dog obscene 'l Let him avoid the equal wretchedness Of sordid filth, or prodigal excess ; Nor his poor slaves like old Albucius rate, When he gives orders for some curious treat: 90 Nor yet like Naevius, carelessly unclean, His guests with greasy water entertain. This too is vile. Now mark, what blessings flow From temperate meals ; and first they can bestow That prime of blessings, health : for you’ll confess 95 That various meats the stomach must oppress, If you reflect how light, how well you were When plain and simple was your cheerful fare; But roast, and boil’d, when you promiscuous eat, When fowl and shell-fish in confusion meet, 100 i 89 We know not either Albucius or Nsevius, but one was polite to affectation, the other careless to filthiness. Such aro the extremes of avarice and prodigality. 250 HORACE. Sweets, turn’d to choler, with cold phlegm engage, And civil war in the rack’d stomach wage. Behold how pale the sated guests arise From suppers, puzzled with varieties! The body too, with yesterday’s excess 105 Burden’d and tired, shall the pure soul depress; Weigh down this portion of celestial birth, This breath of god, and fix it to the earth. Who down to sleep from a short supper lies, Can to the next day’s business vigorous rise, 110 Or jovial wander (when the circling year Brings back some festal day) to better cheer; Or when his wasted strength he would restore, When years approach, and age’s feeble hour A softer treatment claim. But if in prime 115 Of youth and health you take before your time The luxuries of life, where is their aid When age or sickness shall your strength invade? Our fathers loved (and yet they had a nose) A tainted boar; but I believe they chose 120 The mouldy fragments with a friend to eat, Rather than eat it whole themselves, and sweet. Oh! that the earth, when vigorous and young, Had borne me this heroic race among! Do you the voice of fame with pleasure hear? 125 (Sweeter than verse it charms the humanear;) Behold, what infamy and ruin rise From a large dish, where the large turbot lies ; Your friends, your neighbours, all your folly hate, You hate yourself, in vain, and curse your fate, 130 When, though you wish for death, you want the pelf To purchase even a rope to hang yourself. “ These precepts well may wretched Trausius rate; But why to me? So large is my estate, 107 To raise the nobleness of the mind, Horace has borrowed the language of Plato, who says that it is a portion of the uni¬ versal soul of the world, that is, of the Divinity himself.— San. BOOK II.—SATIRE II. 251 135 And such an ample revenue it brings To satiate even the avarice of kings.” Then why not better use this proud excess Of worthless wealth 1 Why lives in deep distress A man unworthy to be poor, or why The temples of the gods in ruins lie 1 140 Why not of such a massy treasure spare To thy dear country, wretch, a moderate share ? Shalt thou alone no change of fortune know? Thou future laughter to th} 7- deadliest foe! But who, with conscious spirit self-secure, 145 A change of fortune better shall endure ? He, who with such variety of food Pampers his passions, and inflames his blood; Or he, contented with his little store, And wisely cautious of the future hour, 150 Who in the time of peace with prudent care Shall for th’ extremities of war prepare ? But, deeper to impress this useful truth, I knew the sage Ofellus in my youth, Living, when wealthy, at no larger rate 155 Than in his present more contracted state. I saw the hardy hireling till the ground, (’Twas once his own estate,) and while around His cattle grazed, and children listening stood, The cheerful swain his pleasing tale pursued. 160 On working-days I had no idle treat, But a smoked leg of pork and greens I eat; Yet when arrived some long-expected guest, Or rainy weather gave an hour of rest, If a kind neighbour then a visit paid, 165 An entertainment more profuse I made; Though with a kid or pullet well content, Ne’er for luxurious fish to Rome I sent; With nuts and figs I crown’d the cheerful board, The largest that the season could afford. 170 The social glass went round with cheerfulness, And our sole rule was to avoid excess. 252 HORACE. Our due libations were to Ceres paid, To bless our com, and fill the rising blade, While the gay wine dispell’d each anxious care, 175 And smooth’d the wrinkled forehead too severe. Let fortune rage, and new disorders make, From such a life how little can she take ? Or have we lived at a more frugal rate Since this new stranger seized on our estate 1 180 Nature will no perpetual heir assign, Or make the farm his property or mine. He turn’d us out: but follies all his own, Or lawsuits, and their knaveries unknown; Or, all his follies and his lawsuits pass’d, 185 Some long-lived heir shall turn him out at last. The farm, once mine, now bears Umbrenus’ name; The use alone, not property we claim ; Then be not with your present lot depress’d, And meet the future with undaunted breast. 190 SATIRE III. Damasippus, in a conversation with Horace, proves the para-, dox of the stoics, that most men are actually mad. Damasippus . If hardly once a quarter of a year, So idle grown, a single sheet appear ; If angry at yourself, that sleep and wine Enjoy your hours, while anxious to refine Your labours past, no more your voice you raise 5 To aught that may deserve the public praise, What shall be done 1 When Saturn’s jovial feast Seem’d too luxuriant to your sober taste, Hither you fled. Then try the pleasing strain : Come on: begin. Horace. Alas ! ’tis all in vain, 10 While I with impotence of rage abuse My harmless pens, the guitless walls accuse; Walls that seem’d raised in angry Heaven’s despite. The curse of peevish poets, when they write. BOOK II.-ODE III. 253 D. And yet you threaten’d something wondrous great 15 When you should warm you in your country-seat. Why crowd the volumes of the Grecian sage, Ranged with the writers of the comic stage 1 Think you the wrath of envy to appease, Your virtue lost in idleness and ease 1 20 Unhappy bard! to sure contempt you run; Then learn the siren indolence to shun, Or poorly be content to lose the fame, Which your past hours of better life might claim. H. Sage Damasippus, may the powers divine, 25 For this same excellent advice of thine, Give thee a barber, in their special grace, To nurse your beard, that wisdom of the face! Yet, prithee, tell me whence I’m so well known. D. W'hen I had lost all business of my own, 30 And at th’ exchange my shipwreck’d fortune broke, I minded the affairs of other folk. In rare antiquities full curious was my taste ; Here the rude chisel’s rougher strokes 1 traced; In flowing brass a vicious hardness found, 35 Or bought a statue for five hundred pound, A perfect connoisseur. At gainful rate, I purchased gardens, or a mansion-seat. Thus, through the city was I known to fame, And Mercury’s favourite my public name. 40 H. I knew your illness, and amazed beheld Your sudden cure. D . A new disease expell’d My old disorder, as when changing pains Fly to the stomach from the head and reins. Thus the lethargic, starting from his bed, 45 In boxing phrensy broke his doctor’s head. H. Spare but this phrensy, use me as you please— D. Good sir, don’t triumph in your own disease. 27 Our poet knows not better how to express his gratitude for the solemn, charitable advices, that Damasippu-s had given him, than by wishing him a good barber ; for the stoics valued nothing so much as this wise and venerable length of hair. Hor. Vol. I.— Y 254 HORACE. For all are fools or mad, as well as you, At least, if what Stertinius says be true, 50 Whose wondrous precepts I with transport heard What time he bade me nurse this reverend beard Cheerful from the Fabrician bridge depart, And with the words of comfort fill’d my heart. For when, my fortune lost, resolved 1 stood, 55 Covering my head, to plunge into the flood, Propitious he addressed me— Stertinius. Friend, take heed, Nor wrong yourself by this unworthy deed. ’Tis but a vicious modesty to fear Among the mad a madman to appear. 60 But listen heedful first, while I explain What madness is, what error of the brain ; And if in you alone appear its power. Then bravely perish : 1 shall say no more. Whom vicious follies, or whom falsehood, blind, 65 Are by the stoics held of madding kind. All but the wise are by this process bound, The subject nations, and the monarch crown’d, And they, who call you fool, with equal claim May plead an ample title to the name. 70 When in a wood we leave the certain way, One error fools us, though we various stray Some to the left, some turn to t’other side ; So he, who dares thy madness to deride, Though you may frankly own yourself a fool, 75 Behind him trails his mark of ridicule. For various follies fill the human breast. As, with unreal terrors when possess’d, A wretch in superstitious phrensy cries, “ Lo ! in the plain, fires, rocks, and rivers rise !” 80 A different madness, though not less, inspires The fool, who rushes wild through streams and fires ; His mother, sister, father, friends, and wife, Cry out, in vain, “ Ah ! yet preserve thy life; That headlong ditch! how dreadful it appears ! 85 That hanging precipice !” No more he hears, BOOK II. -SATIRE III. 255 Than drunken Fufius lately at the play, Who fairly slept Ilione away, While the full pit, with clamorous thousands cries, “ Awake, dear mother, to my aid arise.” 90 Now listen while full clearly I maintain Such is the vulgar error of the brain. Some rare antique, suppose your madness buys ; Is he, who lends the money, less unwise 1 Or if the usurer Perilius said, 95 “ Take what I ne’er expect shall be repaid,” Are you a fool to take it, or not more T’ affront the god who sends the shining store ? Perilius. Ay; but I make him on a banker draw— *S. ’Tis not enough: add all the forms of law ; 100 The knotty contracts of Cicuta’s brain, This wicked Proteus shall escape the chain : Drag him to justice, he’s a bird, tree, stone, And laughs, as if his cheeks were not his own. If bad economists are held unwise, 105 In good economy some wisdom lies, And then Perilius is of tainted brain, Who takes your bond, to sue for it in vain. Come all, whose breasts with bad ambition rise, Or the pale passion, that for money dies, 110 With luxury, or superstition’s gloom, Whate’er disease your health of mind consume, Compose your robes ; in decent ranks draw near, And, that ye all are mad, with reverence hear. Misers make whole Anticyra their own: 115 It’s hellebore reserved for them alone. 87 Fufius, such is the name in seven manuscripts, was an actor, who, playing the character of Ilione, was supposed to be asleep, when the ghost of her son Polydore called to her, “ Dear mother, hear me !” Fufius having drunk too much, fell really asleep; and Catienus, who played Polydore, having called to him, without waking him, the whole house, as if each of them was a Catienus, cried out, “ Dear mother, hear me !” 116 Hellebore was not only used in sickness by the ancients, but to give force and vigour to the wit when they were in health. Valerius Maximus tells us Carneadas used it with great success, 256 HORACE. Staberins thus compell’d his heirs t’ engrave On his proud tomb what legacies he gave, Or stand condemn’d to give the crowd a feast, By Arrius form’d in elegance of taste, 120 And gladiators, even a hundred pair, With all the corn of Afric’s fruitful year. “ Such is my will, and whether fool or wise, I scorn your censures,” the testator cries, Wisely perceiving— D. What could he perceive, Thus on his tomb his fortune to engrave 1 126 &. Long as he lived he look’d on poverty, And shunn’d it as a crime of blackest die; And had he died one farthing less in pelf, Had seem’d a worthless villain to himself; 130 For virtue, glory, beauty, all divine And human powers, immortal gold are thine ! And he, who piles the shining heap, shall rise Noble, brave, just— D. You will not call him wise. S. Yes; anything; a monarch, if he please • 135 And thus Staberius, nobly fond of praise, By latest times might hope to be admired, As if his virtue had his wealth acquired. When Aristippus, on the Lybian waste Commands his slaves, because it stopp’d their haste, To throw away his gold, does he not seem 141 To be as mad, in opposite extreme 1 D. By such examples truth can ne’er be tried : They but perplex the question, not decide. S. If a man fill’d his cabinet with lyres, 145 Whom neither music charms, nor muse inspires; Should he buy lasts and knives, who never made A shoe; or if a wight, who hated trade, The sails and tackle for a vessel bought, Madman or fool he might be justly thought. 150 But, prithee, where’s the difference to behold A wretch, who heaps and hides his darling gold ; whenever he was to dispute with Chrysippus, from whence it was in great esteem among all who had a passion for solid praise. BOOK II.-SATIRE III. 257 Who knows not how to use the massy store, Yet dreads to violate the sacred ore] With a long club, and ever-open eyes, 155 To guard his corn its wretched master lies, Nor dares, though hungry, touch the hoarded grain, While bitter herbs his frugal life sustain ; If in his cellar lie a thousand flasks (Nay, let them rise to thrice a thousand casks) 160 Of old Falernian, or the Chian vine, Yet if he drink mere vinegar for wine; If, at fourscore, of straw he made his bed, While moths upon his rotting carpet fed, By few, forsooth, a madman he is thought, 165 For half mankind the same disease have caught. Thou dotard, cursed in the love of pelf, For fear of starving, will you starve yourself ] Or do you this ill-gotten treasure save For a luxurious son or favourite slave ] 170 How little would thy mass of money waste, Did you on better oil and cabbage feast, Or on thy clotted hair, and dandruff head, A sweeter, more expensive essence shed] If nature wish for no immoderate store, 175 When you forswear, and rob, and steal for more, Still are you sound ] But, when your folly raves, If you should stone the people, or your slaves; Those slaves, whom you with pelf, how precious! buy, Our boys and girls “ A madman! madman !” cry. 180 Is your head safe, although you hang your wife, Or take by poison your old mother’s life ] What! nor in Argos you commit the deed, Nor did your mother by a dagger bleed; Nor by a mad Orestes was she slain— 185 But was Orestes of untainted brain, Or was he not by furies dire possess’d Before he plunged his dagger in her breast ] Yet from the time you hold him hurt in mind, His actions are of harmless, blameless kind. 190 Y 2 258 HORACE. He neither stabs his sister, nor his friend ; In a few curses his worst passions end ; He calls her fury, or whatever names Flow from a breast, which choler high inflames. Poor was Opimius, though full rich his chest, 195 In earthen cups, on some more solemn feast, Quaff’d the crude juices of a meager vine, On week-days dead and vapid was his wine, When with a heavy lethargy oppress’d, His heir in triumph ran from chest to chest: 200 Swift to his aid his faithful doctor flies, And this expedient to awake him tries; From out his bags pours out the shining store, And bids a crowd of people count it o’er; Then placed the table near his patient’s bed, 205 And loud, as if he roused him from the dead, “ Awake! and guard your wealth; this moment wake ! Your ravening heir will every shilling take.” “ What! while I live 1” “ Then wake, that you may live: Here, take the best prescription I can give. 210 Your bloodless veins, your appetite will fail, Unless you raise them by a powerful meal. Take this ptisane—” “What will it cost? Nay, hold!” “ A very trifle.” “ Sir, I will be told.” “ Three pence.” “ Alas ! what does it signify 215 Whether by doctors or by thieves I die ?” D. Who then is sound ? Whoever’s not a fool. D. What think you of the miser? S. By my rule Both fool and madman. D. Is he sound and well, If not a miser 1 S. No. D. I prithee tell, 220 Good stoic, why ? S. Let us suppose you heard An able doctor, who perchance declared His patient’s stomach good ; yet shall he rise, Or, is he well ? Ah ! no, the doctor cries, Because a keen variety of pains Attack the wretch’s side, or vex his reins. 225 BOOK II.-SATIRE III. 259 You are not perjured, nor to gold a slave ; Let Heaven your grateful sacrifice receive. But if your breast with bold ambition glows, Set sail where hellebore abundant grows ; 230 For, prithee, say, what difference can you find, Whether to scoundrels of the vilest kind You throw away your wealth in lewd excess, Or know not to enjoy what you possess 1 When rich Oppidius, as old tales relate, 235 To his two sons divided his estate, Two ancient farms, he called them to his bed, And dying, thus,with faltering accent, said : “ In your loose robe when I have seen your bear Your playthings, Aulus, with an heedless air, 240 Or carelesss give them to your friends away, Or with a gamester’s desperate spirit play ; While you, Tiberius, anxious counted o’er Your childish wealth, and hid the little store, A different madness seem’d to be your fate, 245 Misers or spendthrifts born to imitate. Then, by our household gods, my sons, I charge, That you ne’er lessen, that you ne’er enlarge What seems sufficient for your tender sire, And nature’s most unbounded wants require. 250 “ Then, lest ambition tempt ye, hear this oath, By whose eternal power I bind ye both : Cursed be the wretch, an object of my hate, Whoe’er accepts an office in the state. Will you in largesses exhaust your store, 255 That you may proudly stalk the circus o’erl Or in the capitol embronzed may stand, Spoil’d of your fortune and paternal land 1 And thus, forsooth, Agrippa’s praise engage, Or show, with reynard’s tricks, the lion’s rage!”260 Wherefore does Ajax thus unburied lie 1 Agamemnon. We are a king. A base plebeian I, And ask no more. A. ’Twas just what we decreed; But, if you think it an unrighteous deed, 264 £60 HORACE. Speak what you think. We here our rights resign. BOOK II.-SATIRE VII. 281 SATIRE VII. One of Horace’s slaves, making use of the freedom allowed at the Saturnalia, rates his master in a droll and severe manner. Davus. I’ll hear no more, and with impatience burn, Slave as I am, to answer in my turn; And yet I fear— Horace. What! Davus, is it you ? D. Yes. Davus, sir, the faithful and the true. With wit enough no sudden death to fear— 5 H. Well, sinee this jovial season of the year Permits it, and our ancestors ordain. No more thy dear impertinence restrain. D. Among mankind, while some with steady view One constant course of darling vice pursue, 10 Most others float along the changing tide, And now to virtue, now to vice they glide. Lo ! from three rings how Priscus plays the light; Now shows his naked hand—the various wight With every hour a different habit wears : 15 Now in a palace haughtily appears, Then hides him in some vile and filthy place, Wliere a clean slave would blush to show his face. Now rakes at home, and now to Athens flies; Intensely studies with the learn’d and wise. 20 Sure all the gods, who rule this varying earth, In deep despite presided at his birth. Old Volanerius, once that man of joke, When the just gout his crippled fingers broke, Maintain’d a slave to gather up the dice, 25 So constant was he to his darling vice. Yet less a wretch than he, who now maintains A steady course, now drives with looser reins. H. Tell me, thou tedious varlet, whither tends This putrid stuff"? D. At you direct it bends. 30 H. At me, you scoundrel ? D. When with lavish praise You vaunt the happiness of ancient days, A a2 282 HORACE. Suppose some god should take you at your word, Would you not scorn the blessing you implored ? Whether not yet convinced, as you pretend, 35 Or weak the cause of virtue to defend ; While sinking in the mire you strive, in vain, Too deeply plunged, to free your foot again. When you’re at Rome, the country has your sighs; A rustic grown, you vaunt into the skies. 40 The absent town. Perchance, if uninvited To sup abroad, oh ! then you’re so delighted With your own homely meal, that one would think That he who next engages you to drink, Must tie you neck and heels ; you seem so bless’d 45 When with no bumper-invitation press’d. But should Maecenas bid his poet wait, (Great folks, like him, can never sup till late,) Sputtering with idle rage the house you rend, “ Where is my essence 1 Rogues, what! none at¬ tend 1” 50 While the buffoons, you promised to have treated, Sneak off with curses—not to be repeated. Fond of myself, too fond, perhaps, I seem; I throw my nose up to a savoury steam : Or folks may call me, careless, idle sot, 55 Or say I pledge too oft the other pot: But shall the man of deeper vice like you, With malice unprovoked my faults pursue, Because with specious phrase, and terms of art, You clothe, forsooth, the vices of your heart 1 60 What if a greater fool your worship’s found, Than the poor slave you bought for twenty pound? Think not to fright me with that threat’ning air, Nay, keep your temper, sir, your fingers spare, While I the maxims, sage and wise, repeat, 65 Taught me by Crispin’s porter at his gate. You take the yoke, and to the husband’s rage Your fortune, person, life, and fame engage. Have you escaped ? Methinks, your future care Might wisely teach you to avoid the snare. 70 BOOK II.-SATIRE VII. 283 No, you with ardour to the danger run, And dare a second time to be undone. Repeated slave! What beast, that breaks his chain, In love with bondage would return again 1 But you, it seems, ne’er touch the wedded dame— Then, by the son of Jove, I here disclaim 76 The name of thief, when, though with backward eye I wisely pass the silver goblet by. But take the danger and the shame away, And vagrant nature bounds upon her prey, 80 Spurning the reins. But say, shall you pretend O’er me to lord it, who can vilely bend To each proud master; to each changing hour A very slave 1 Not even the pretor’s power, W T ith thrice-repeated rites, thy fears control, 85 Or vindicate the freedom of thy soul. But as the slave, who lords it o’er the rest, Is still a slave, a master slave at best, So art thou, insolent, by me obey’d ; Thou thing of wood and wires, by others play’d. 90 H. Who then is free ? D. The wise, who well maintains An empire o’er himself: whom neither chains, Nor want, nor death, with slavish fear inspire, Who boldly answers to his warm desire, Who can ambition’s vainest gifts despise, 95 Firm in himself who on himself relies, Polish’d and round, who runs his proper course, And breaks misfortune with superior force. What is there here that you can justly claim, Or call your own 1 When an imperious dame 100 Demands her price, with insults vile pursues thee ; Driven out of doors, with water well bedews thee, Then calls you back ; for shame, shake off her chain, And boldly tell her you are free. In vain; A tyrant-lord thy better will restrains, 105 And spurs thee hard, and breaks thee to his reins. If some famed piece the painter’s art displays, Transfix’d you stand, with admiration gaze; 284 HORACE. But is your worship’s folly less than mine, When I with wonder view some rude design 110 In crayons or in charcoal, to invite The crowd to see the gladiators fight ? Methinks, in very deed they mount the stage, And seem in real combat to engage ; Now in strong attitude they dreadful bend ; 115 Wounded they wound ; they parry and defend • Yet Davus is with rogue and rascal graced, But you’re a critic, and a man of taste. I am, forsooth, a good-for-nothing knave, When by a smoking pasty made a slave : 120 In you it shows a soul erect and great, If you refuse even one luxurious treat. Why may not I, like you, my guts obey'? “ My shoulders for the dear indulgence pay.” But should not you with heavier stripes be taught, W T ho search for luxuries ; how dearly bought! 126 For soon this endless, this repeated feast, Its relish lost, shall pall upon the taste; Then shall your trembling limbs refuse the weight Of a vile carcass with disease replete. 130 How seldom from the lash a slave escapes, Who trucks some trifle, that he stole, for grapes ? And shall we not the servile glutton rate, To please his throat who sells a good estate 1 You cannot spend one vacant hour alone; 135 You cannot make that vacant hour your own. A self-deserter from yourself you stray, And now with wine, and now with sleep allay Your cares; in vain: companions black as night., Thy pressing cares, arrest thee in thy flight. 140 H. Is there no stone ? D. At whom, good sir, to throw it? H. Have I no dart I D. What mischief ails our poet? He’s mad, or making verses. H. Hence, you knave! Or to my farm I’ll send you—the ninth slave. BOOK II.-SATIRE VIII. 285 SATIRE VIII. Horace in this satire presents us with a humorous descrip¬ tion of a miser’s entertainment. Horace. They told me, that you spent the jovial night With Nasidienus, that same happy wight, From early day, or you had been my guest; But, prithee, tell me how you liked your feast. Fundanius. Sure never better. H. Tell me, if you , please, 5 How did you first your appetite appease 1 F. First a Lucanian boar of tender kind, Caught, says our host, in a soft, southern wind. Around him lay whatever could excite, With pungent force, the jaded appetite, 10 Rapes, lettuce, radishes, anchovy-brine, With skerrets, and the lees of Coan wine. This dish removed, a slave expert and able With purple napkin wiped a maple table. Another sweeps the fragments of the feast, 15 That nothing useless might offend the guest. At Ceres’ feast as Attic virgin walks Solemn and slow, so black Hydaspes stalks With right Caecubian, and the wines of Greece— Of foreign growth, that never cross’d the seas. 20 If Alban and Falernian please you more, So says our host, you may have both good store; Poor wealth indeed— H. But tell me, who were there, Thus happy to enjoy such luscious fare 1 F. On the first bed Thurinus lay between 25 Varius and me, if happily right I ween ; Servilius and Vibidius both were there, Brought by Maecenas, and with him they share The middle bed. Our master of the feast On the third couch, in seat of honour placed, 30 Porcius betwixt and Nomentanus lies; Porcius, who archly swallows custard pies. 286 HORACE. Whate’er of curious relish lay unknown Is by Nomentane with his finger shown; For we, poor folk, unknowing of our feast, 35 Eat fish and wild fowl—of no common taste. But he, to prove how luscious was the treat, With a broil’d flounder’s entrails crowds my plate, Then tells me apples are more ruddy bright If gather’d by fair Luna’s waning light. 40 He best can tell you where the difference lies— But here Servilius to Vibidius cries, “ Sure to be poison’d unrevenged we die, Unless we drink the wretched miser dry. Slave, give us larger glasses.” Struck with dread, A fearful pale our landlord’s face o’erspread ; 46 Great were his terrors of such drinking folk, Whether with too much bitterness they joke, Or that hot wines, dishonouring his feast, Deafen the subtle judgment of the taste. 50 When our two champions had their faces crown’d, We did them justice, and the glass went round; His parasites alone his anger fear’d, And the full flask unwillingly they spared. In a large dish an outstretch’d lamprey lies, 55 With shrimps all floating round: the master cries, “This fish, Maecenas, big with spawn was caught, F©r after spawning-time its flesh is naught. The sauce is mix’d with olive oil; the best, And purest from the vats Venafran press’d, 60 And, as it boil’d, we pour’d in Spanish brine, Nor less than five-year-old Italian wine. A little Chian’s better when ’tis boil’d, By any other it is often spoil’d. Then was white pepper o’er it gently pour’d, 65 And vinegar of Lesbian vintage sour’d. “I first among the men of sapience knew Roquets and herbs in cockle brine to stew, Though in this same rich pickle, ’tis confess’d, His unwash’d crayfish sage Curtillus dress’d.” 70 BOOK II.—SATIRE VIII. 287 But lo ! the canopy, that o’er us spreads, Tumbled, in hideous ruin, on our heads, With dust, how black! not such the clouds arise When o’er the plain a northern tempest flies. Some horrors, yet more horrible, we dread, 75 But raise us, when we found the danger fled. Poor Rufus droop’d his head, and sadly cried, As if his only son untimely died. Sure he had wept, till weeping ne’er had end, But wise Nomentane thus upraised his friend ; 80 “ Fortune, thou cruellest of powers divine, To joke poor mortals is a joke of thine.” While Varius with a napkin scarce suppress’d His laughter, Balatro, who loves a jest, Cries, “ Such the lot of life, nor must you claim, 85 For all your toils, a fair return of fame. While you are tortured thus, and torn with pain, A guest like me, polite to entertain With bread well baked, with sauces season’d right, And all your slaves most elegantly dight, 90 Down falls the canopy, a trick of fate, Or a groom-footman stumbling breaks a plate. Good fortune hides, adversity calls forth A landlord’s genius, and a general’s worth.” To this mine host; “ Thou ever gentle guest, 95 May all thy wishes by the gods be bless’d, Thou best good man!” But when we saw him rise, From bed to bed the spreading whisper flies. H. Sure, never play so fine. But, prithee, say, How afterward you laugh’d the time away. 100 F. “ Slaves,” cries Vibidius, “ have you broke the cask? How often must I call for t’other flask 1” With some pretended joke our laugh was dress’d, Servilius ever seconding the jest, When you, great host, return with alter’d face, 105 As if to mend with art your late disgrace. The slaves behind in mighty charger bore A crane in pieces torn and powder’d o’er 288 HORACE. With salt and flour; and a white gander’s liver, Stuff’d fat with figs, bespoke the curious giver; 110 Besides the wings of hares, for so, it seems, No man of luxury the back esteems. Then saw we blackbirds with o’er-roasted breast, Laid on the board, and ringdoves rumpless dress’d ! Delicious fare ! did not our host explain 115 Their various qualities in endless strain, Their various natures; but we fled the feast, Resolved in vengeance nothing more to taste, As if Canidia, with empoison’d breath, Worse than a serpent’s, blasted it with death. 120 END OF VOL. I. \ \ ■ ■ ' Date Due MAY 2 2 MAY 2 1 _ L WOT * m ———i-“—H ‘i-y'b- *3 7 • HSR- 5 : i2 1 ! 3 9031 BOSTON COLLEGE 280787 1 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. Books may be kept for two weeks and may be renewed for the same period, unless re¬ served. Two cents a day is charged for each book kept overtime. If you cannot find what you want, ask the Librarian who will be glad to help you. The borrower is responsible for books drawn on his card and for all fines accruing on the same.