The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace Part 11

XII.

MISERARUM EST.

How unhappy are the maidens who with Cupid may not play, Who may never touch the wine-cup, but must tremble all the day At an uncle, and the scourging of his tongue!

Neobule, there's a robber takes your needle and your thread, Lets the lessons of Minerva run no longer in your head; It is Hebrus, the athletic and the young!

O, to see him when anointed he is plunging in the flood!

What a seat he has on horseback! was Bellerophon's as good?

As a boxer, as a runner, past compare!

When the deer are flying blindly all the open country o'er, He can aim and he can hit them; he can steal upon the boar, As it couches in the thicket unaware.

XIII.

O FONS BANDUSIAE.

Bandusia's fount, in clearness crystalline, O worthy of the wine, the flowers we vow!

To-morrow shall be thine A kid, whose crescent brow Is sprouting all for love and victory.

In vain: his warm red blood, so early stirr'd, Thy gelid stream shall dye, Child of the wanton herd.

Thee the fierce Sirian star, to madness fired, Forbears to touch: sweet cool thy waters yield To ox with ploughing tired, And lazy sheep afield.

Thou too one day shalt win proud eminence 'Mid honour'd founts, while I the ilex sing Crowning the cavern, whence Thy babbling wavelets spring.

XIV.

HERCULIS RITU.

Our Hercules, they told us, Rome, Had sought the laurel Death bestows: Now Glory brings him conqueror home From Spaniard foes.

Proud of her spouse, the imperial fair Must thank the G.o.ds that s.h.i.+eld from death; His sister too:--let matrons wear The suppliant wreath For daughters and for sons restored: Ye youths and damsels newly wed, Let decent awe restrain each word Best left unsaid.

This day, true holyday to me, Shall banish care: I will not fear Rude broils or b.l.o.o.d.y death to see, While Caesar's here.

Quick, boy, the chaplets and the nard, And wine, that knew the Marsian war, If roving Spartacus have spared A single jar.

And bid Nesera come and trill, Her bright locks bound with careless art: If her rough porter cross your will, Why then depart.

Soon palls the taste for noise and fray, When hair is white and leaves are sere: How had I fired in life's warm May, In Plancus' year!

XV.

UXOR PAUPERIS IBYCI.

Wife of Ibycus the poor, Let aged scandals have at length their bound: Give your graceless doings o'er, Ripe as you are for going underground.

YOU the maidens' dance to lead, And cast your gloom upon those beaming stars!

Daughter Pholoe may succeed, But mother Chloris what she touches mars.

Young men's homes your daughter storms, Like Thyiad, madden'd by the cymbals' beat: Nothus' love her bosom warms: She gambols like a fawn with silver feet.

Yours should be the wool that grows By fair Luceria, not the merry lute: Flowers beseem not wither'd brows, Nor wither'd lips with emptied wine-jars suit.

XVI.

INCLUSAM DANAEN.

Full well had Danae been secured, in truth, By oaken portals, and a brazen tower, And savage watch-dogs, from the roving youth That prowl at midnight's hour: But Jove and Venus mock'd with gay disdain The jealous warder of that close stronghold: The way, they knew, must soon be smooth and plain When G.o.ds could change to gold.

Gold, gold can pa.s.s the tyrant's sentinel, Can s.h.i.+ver rocks with more resistless blow Than is the thunder's. Argos' prophet fell, He and his house laid low, And all for gain. The man of Macedon Cleft gates of cities, rival kings o'erthrew By force of gifts: their cunning snares have won Rude captains and their crew.

As riches grow, care follows: men repine And thirst for more. No lofty crest I raise: Wisdom that thought forbids, Maecenas mine, The knightly order's praise.

He that denies himself shall gain the more From bounteous Heaven. I strip me of my pride, Desert the rich man's standard, and pa.s.s o'er To bare Contentment's side, More proud as lord of what the great despise Than if the wheat thresh'd on Apulia's floor I h.o.a.rded all in my huge granaries, 'Mid vast possessions poor.

A clear fresh stream, a little field o'ergrown With shady trees, a crop that ne'er deceives, Pa.s.s, though men know it not, their wealth, that own All Afric's golden sheaves.

Though no Calabrian bees their honey yield For me, nor mellowing sleeps the G.o.d of wine In Formian jar, nor in Gaul's pasture-field The wool grows long and fine, Yet Poverty ne'er comes to break my peace; If more I craved, you would not more refuse.

Desiring less, I better shall increase My tiny revenues, Than if to Alyattes' wide domains I join'd the realms of Mygdon. Great desires Sort with great wants. 'Tis best, when prayer obtains No more than life requires.

XVII.

AELI VETUSTO.

Aelius, of Lamus' ancient name (For since from that high parentage The prehistoric Lamias came And all who fill the storied page, No doubt you trace your line from him, Who stretch'd his sway o'er Formiae, And Liris, whose still waters swim Where green Marica skirts the sea, Lord of broad realms), an eastern gale Will blow to-morrow, and bestrew The sh.o.r.e with weeds, with leaves the vale, If rain's old prophet tell me true, The raven. Gather, while 'tis fine, Your wood; to-morrow shall be gay With smoking pig and streaming wine, And lord and slave keep holyday.

XVIII.

FAUNE, NYMPHARUM.

O wont the flying Nymphs to woo, Good Faunus, through my sunny farm Pa.s.s gently, gently pa.s.s, nor do My younglings harm.

Each year, thou know'st, a kid must die For thee; nor lacks the wine's full stream To Venus' mate, the bowl; and high The altars steam.

Sure as December's nones appear, All o'er the gra.s.s the cattle play; The village, with the lazy steer, Keeps holyday.

Wolves rove among the fearless sheep; The woods for thee their foliage strow; The delver loves on earth to leap, His ancient foe.

XIX.

QUANTUM DISTAT.