Odes

Contents — 99 sections

1. Book 1, Poem 1
2. Book 1, Poem 2
3. Book 1, Poem 3
4. Book 1, Poem 4
5. Book 1, Poem 5
6. Book 1, Poem 6
7. Book 1, Poem 7
8. Book 1, Poem 8
9. Book 1, Poem 9
10. Book 1, Poem 10
11. Book 1, Poem 11
12. Book 1, Poem 12
13. Book 1, Poem 13
14. Book 1, Poem 14
15. Book 1, Poem 15
16. Book 1, Poem 16
17. Book 1, Poem 17
18. Book 1, Poem 18
19. Book 1, Poem 19
20. Book 1, Poem 20
21. Book 1, Poem 21
22. Book 1, Poem 22
23. Book 1, Poem 23
24. Book 1, Poem 24
25. Book 1, Poem 26
26. Book 1, Poem 27
27. Book 1, Poem 28
28. Book 1, Poem 29
29. Book 1, Poem 30
30. Book 1, Poem 31
31. Book 1, Poem 32
32. Book 1, Poem 33
33. Book 1, Poem 34
34. Book 1, Poem 35
35. Book 1, Poem 36
36. Book 1, Poem 37
37. Book 1, Poem 38
38. Book 2, Poem 1
39. Book 2, Poem 2
40. Book 2, Poem 3
41. Book 2, Poem 4
42. Book 2, Poem 6
43. Book 2, Poem 7
44. Book 2, Poem 8
45. Book 2, Poem 9
46. Book 2, Poem 10
47. Book 2, Poem 11
48. Book 2, Poem 12
49. Book 2, Poem 13
50. Book 2, Poem 14
51. Book 2, Poem 15
52. Book 2, Poem 16
53. Book 2, Poem 17
54. Book 2, Poem 18
55. Book 2, Poem 19
56. Book 2, Poem 20
57. Book 3, Poem 1
58. Book 3, Poem 2
59. Book 3, Poem 3
60. Book 3, Poem 4
61. Book 3, Poem 5
62. Book 3, Poem 6
63. Book 3, Poem 7
64. Book 3, Poem 8
65. Book 3, Poem 9
66. Book 3, Poem 10
67. Book 3, Poem 11
68. Book 3, Poem 12
69. Book 3, Poem 13
70. Book 3, Poem 14
71. Book 3, Poem 15
72. Book 3, Poem 16
73. Book 3, Poem 17
74. Book 3, Poem 18
75. Book 3, Poem 19
76. Book 3, Poem 21
77. Book 3, Poem 22
78. Book 3, Poem 23
79. Book 3, Poem 24
80. Book 3, Poem 25
81. Book 3, Poem 26
82. Book 3, Poem 27
83. Book 3, Poem 28
84. Book 3, Poem 29
85. Book 3, Poem 30
86. Book 4, Poem 1
87. Book 4, Poem 2
88. Book 4, Poem 3
89. Book 4, Poem 4
90. Book 4, Poem 5
91. Book 4, Poem 6
92. Book 4, Poem 7
93. Book 4, Poem 8
94. Book 4, Poem 9
95. Book 4, Poem 11
96. Book 4, Poem 12
97. Book 4, Poem 13
98. Book 4, Poem 14
99. Book 4, Poem 15

Book 1, Poem 1

1Maecenas, born of monarch ancestors, The shield at once and glory of my life! There are who joy them in the Olympic strife And love the dust they gather in the course; The goal by hot wheels shunn'd, the famous prize,

6Exalt them to the gods that rule mankind; This joys, if rabbles fickle as the wind Through triple grade of honours bid him rise, That, if his granary has stored away Of Libya's thousand floors the yield entire;

11The man who digs his field as did his sire, With honest pride, no Attalus may sway By proffer'd wealth to tempt Myrtoan seas, The timorous captain of a Cyprian bark. The winds that make Icarian billows dark

16The merchant fears, and hugs the rural ease Of his own village home; but soon, ashamed Of penury, he refits his batter'd craft. There is, who thinks no scorn of Massic draught, Who robs the daylight of an hour unblamed,

21Now stretch'd beneath the arbute on the sward, Now by some gentle river's sacred spring; Some love the camp, the clarion's joyous ring, And battle, by the mother's soul abhorr'd. See, patient waiting in the clear keen air,

26The hunter, thoughtless of his delicate bride, Whether the trusty hounds a stag have eyed, Or the fierce Marsian boar has burst the snare. To me the artist's meed, the ivy wreath Is very heaven: me the sweet cool of woods,

31Where Satyrs frolic with the Nymphs, secludes From rabble rout, so but Euterpe's breath Fail not the flute, nor Polyhymnia fly Averse from stringing new the Lesbian lyre. O, write my name among that minstrel choir,

36And my proud head shall strike upon the sky!

Book 1, Poem 2

1Enough of snow and hail at last The sire has sent in vengeance down: His bolts, at his own temple cast, Appall'd the town, Appall'd the lands, lest Pyrrha's time

6Return, with all its monstrous sights, When Proteus led his flocks to climb The flatten'd heights, When fish were in the elm-tops caught, Where once the stock-dove wont to bide,

11And does were floating, all distraught, Adown the tide. Old Tiber, hurl'd in tumult back From mingling with the Etruscan main, Has threaten'd Numa's court with wrack

16And Vesta's fane. Roused by his Ilia's plaintive woes, He vows revenge for guiltless blood, And, spite of Jove, his banks o'erflows, Uxorious flood.

21Yes, Fame shall tell of civic steel That better Persian lives had spilt, To youths, whose minish'd numbers feel Their parents' guilt. What god shall Rome invoke to stay

26Her fall? Can suppliance overbear The ear of Vesta, turn'd away From chant and prayer? Who comes, commission'd to atone For crime like ours? at length appear,

31A cloud round thy bright shoulders thrown, Apollo seer! Or Venus, laughter-loving dame, Round whom gay Loves and Pleasures fly; Or thou, if slighted sons may claim

36A parent's eye, O weary with thy long, long game, Who lov'st fierce shouts and helmets bright, And Moorish warrior's glance of flame Or e'er he smite!

41Or Maia's son, if now awhile In youthful guise we see thee here, Caesar's avenger—such the style Thou deign'st to bear; Late be thy journey home, and long

46Thy sojourn with Rome's family; Nor let thy wrath at our great wrong Lend wings to fly. Here take our homage, Chief and Sire; Here wreathe with bay thy conquering brow,

51And bid the prancing Mede retire, Our Caesar thou!

Book 1, Poem 3

1Thus may Cyprus' heavenly queen, Thus Helen's brethren, stars of brightest sheen, Guide thee! May the sire of wind Each truant gale, save only Zephyr, bind! So do thou, fair ship, that ow'st

6Virgil, thy precious freight, to Attic coast, Safe restore thy loan and whole, And save from death the partner of my soul! Oak and brass of triple fold Encompass'd sure that heart, which first made bold

11To the raging sea to trust A fragile bark, nor fear'd the Afric gust With its Northern mates at strife, Nor Hyads' frown, nor South-wind fury-rife, Mightiest power that Hadria knows,

16Wills he the waves to madden or compose. What had Death in store to awe Those eyes, that huge sea-beasts unmelting saw, Saw the swelling of the surge, And high Ceraunian cliffs, the seaman's scourge?

21Heaven's high providence in vain Has sever'd countries with the estranging main, If our vessels ne'ertheless With reckless plunge that sacred bar transgress. Daring all, their goal to win,

26Men tread forbidden ground, and rush on sin: Daring all, Prometheus play'd His wily game, and fire to man convey'd; Soon as fire was stolen away, Pale Fever's stranger host and wan Decay

31Swept o'er earth's polluted face, And slow Fate quicken'd Death's once halting pace. Daedalus the void air tried On wings, to humankind by Heaven denied; Acheron's bar gave way with ease

36Before the arm of labouring Hercules. Nought is there for man too high; Our impious folly e'en would climb the sky, Braves the dweller on the steep, Nor lets the bolts of heavenly vengeance sleep.

Book 1, Poem 4

1The touch of Zephyr and of Spring has loosen'd Winter's thrall; The well-dried keels are wheel'd again to sea: The ploughman cares not for his fire, nor cattle for their stall, And frost no more is whitening all the lea. Now Cytherea leads the dance, the bright moon overhead;

6The Graces and the Nymphs, together knit, With rhythmic feet the meadow beat, while Vulcan, fiery red, Heats the Cyclopian forge in Aetna's pit. 'Tis now the time to wreathe the brow with branch of myrtle green, Or flowers, just opening to the vernal breeze;

11Now Faunus claims his sacrifice among the shady treen, Lambkin or kidling, which soe'er he please. Pale Death, impartial, walks his round: he knocks at cottage-gate And palace-portal. Sestius, child of bliss! How should a mortal's hopes be long, when short his being's date?

16Lo here! the fabulous ghosts, the dark abyss, The void of the Plutonian hall, where soon as e'er you go, No more for you shall leap the auspicious die To seat you on the throne of wine; no more your breast shall glow For Lycidas, the star of every eye.

Book 1, Poem 5

1What slender youth, besprinkled with perfume, Courts you on roses in some grotto's shade? Fair Pyrrha, say, for whom Your yellow hair you braid, So trim, so simple! Ah! how oft shall he

6Lament that faith can fail, that gods can change, Viewing the rough black sea With eyes to tempests strange, Who now is basking in your golden smile, And dreams of you still fancy-free, still kind,

11Poor fool, nor knows the guile Of the deceitful wind! Woe to the eyes you dazzle without cloud Untried! For me, they show in yonder fane My dripping garments, vow'd

16To Him who curbs the main.

Book 1, Poem 6

1Not I, but Varius:—he, of Homer's brood A tuneful swan, shall bear you on his wing, Your tale of trophies, won by field or flood, Mighty alike to sing. Not mine such themes, Agrippa; no, nor mine

6To chant the Wrath that fill'd Pelides' breast, Nor dark Ulysses' wanderings o'er the brine, Nor Pelops' house unblest. Vast were the task, I feeble; inborn shame, And she, who makes the peaceful lyre submit,

11Forbid me to impair great Caesar's fame And yours by my weak wit. But who may fitly sing of Mars array'd In adamant mail, or Merion, black with dust Of Troy, or Tydeus' son by Pallas' aid

16Strong against gods to thrust? Feasts are my theme, my warriors maidens fair, Who with pared nails encounter youths in fight; Be Fancy free or caught in Cupid's snare, Her temper still is light.

Book 1, Poem 7

1Let others Rhodes or Mytilene sing, Or Ephesus, or Corinth, set between Two seas, or Thebes, or Delphi, for its king Each famous, or Thessalian Tempe green; There are who make chaste Pallas' virgin tower

6The daily burden of unending song, And search for wreaths the olive's rifled bower: The praise of Juno sounds from many a tongue, Telling of Argos' steeds, Mycenae's gold. For me stern Sparta forges no such spell,

11No, nor Larissa's plain of richest mould, As bright Albunea echoing from her cell. O headlong Anio! O Tiburnian groves, And orchards saturate with shifting streams! Look how the clear fresh south from heaven removes

16The tempest, nor with rain perpetual teems! You too be wise, my Plancus: life's worst cloud Will melt in air, by mellow wine allay'd, Dwell you in camps, with glittering banners proud, Or 'neath your Tibur's canopy of shade.

21When Teucer fled before his father's frown From Salamis, they say his temples deep He dipp'd in wine, then wreath'd with poplar crown, And bade his comrades lay their grief to sleep: “Where Fortune bears us, than my sire more kind,

26There let us go, my own, my gallant crew. 'Tis Teucer leads, 'tis Teucer breathes the wind; No more despair; Apollo's word is true. Another Salamis in kindlier air Shall yet arise. Hearts, that have borne with me

31Worse buffets! drown today in wine your care; To-morrow we recross the wide, wide sea!”

Book 1, Poem 8

1Lydia, by all above, Why bear so hard on Sybaris, to ruin him with love? What change has made him shun The playing-ground, who once so well could bear the dust and sun? Why does he never sit

6On horseback in his company, nor with uneven bit His Gallic courser tame? Why dreads he yellow Tiber, as 'twould sully that fair frame? Like poison loathes the oil, His arms no longer black and blue with honourable toil,

11He who erewhile was known For quoit or javelin oft and oft beyond the limit thrown? Why skulks he, as they say Did Thetis' son before the dawn of Ilion's fatal day, For fear the manly dress

16Should fling him into danger's arms, amid the Lycian press?

Book 1, Poem 9

1See, how it stands, one pile of snow, Soracte! 'neath the pressure yield Its groaning woods; the torrents' flow With clear sharp ice is all congeal'd. Heap high the logs, and melt the cold,

6Good Thaliarch; draw the wine we ask, That mellower vintage, four-year-old, From out the cellar'd Sabine cask. The future trust with Jove; when he Has still'd the warring tempests' roar

11On the vex'd deep, the cypress-tree And aged ash are rock'd no more. O, ask not what the morn will bring, But count as gain each day that chance May give you; sport in life's young spring,

16Nor scorn sweet love, nor merry dance, While years are green, while sullen eld Is distant. Now the walk, the game, The whisper'd talk at sunset held, Each in its hour, prefer their claim.

21Sweet too the laugh, whose feign'd alarm The hiding-place of beauty tells, The token, ravish'd from the arm Or finger, that but ill rebels.

Book 1, Poem 10

1Grandson of Atlas, wise of tongue, O Mercury, whose wit could tame Man's savage youth by power of song And plastic game! Thee sing I, herald of the sky,

6Who gav'st the lyre its music sweet, Hiding whate'er might please thine eye In frolic cheat. See, threatening thee, poor guileless child, Apollo claims, in angry tone,

11His cattle;—all at once he smiled, His quiver gone. Strong in thy guidance, Hector's sire Escaped the Atridae, pass'd between Thessalian tents and warders' fire,

16Of all unseen, Thou lay'st unspotted souls to rest; Thy golden rod pale spectres know; Blest power! by all thy brethren blest, Above, below!

Book 1, Poem 11

1Ask not ('tis forbidden knowledge), what our destined term of years,

2Mine and yours; nor scan the tables of your Babylonish seers.

3Better far to bear the future, my Leuconoe, like the past,

4Whether Jove has many winters yet to give, or this our last;

5This, that makes the Tyrrhene billows spend their strength against the shore.

6Strain your wine and prove your wisdom; life is short; should hope be more?

7In the moment of our talking, envious time has ebb'd away.

8Seize the present; trust tomorrow e'en as little as you may.

Book 1, Poem 12

1What man, what hero, Clio sweet, On harp or flute wilt thou proclaim? What god shall echo's voice repeat In mocking game To Helicon's sequester'd shade,

6Or Pindus, or on Haemus chill, Where once the hurrying woods obey'd The minstrel's will, Who, by his mother's gift of song, Held the fleet stream, the rapid breeze,

11And led with blandishment along The listening trees? Whom praise we first? the sire on high, Who gods and men unerring guides, Who rules the sea, the earth, the sky,

16Their times and tides. No mightier birth may he beget; No like, no second has he known; Yet nearest to her sire's is set Minerva's throne.

21Nor yet shall Bacchus pass unsaid, Bold warrior, nor the virgin foe Of savage beasts, nor Phoebus, dread With deadly bow. Alcides too shall be my theme,

26And Leda's twins, for horses he, He famed for boxing; soon as gleam Their stars at sea, The lash'd spray trickles from the steep, The wind sinks down, the storm-cloud flies,

31The threatening billow on the deep Obedient lies. Shall now Quirinus take his turn, Or quiet Numa, or the state Proud Tarquin held, or Cato stern,

36By death made great? Ay, Regulus and the Scaurian name, And Paullus, who at Cannae gave His glorious soul, fair record claim, For all were brave.

41Thee, Furius, and Fabricius, thee, Rough Curius too, with untrimm'd beard, Your sires' transmitted poverty To conquest rear'd. Marcellus' fame, its up-growth hid,

46Springs like a tree; great Julius' light Shines, like the radiant moon amid The lamps of night. Dread Sire and Guardian of man's race, To thee, O Jove, the Fates assign

51Our Caesar's charge; his power and place Be next to thine. Whether the Parthian, threatening Rome, His eagles scatter to the wind. Or follow to their eastern home

56Cathay and Ind, Thy second let him rule below Thy car shall shake the realms above; Thy vengeful bolts shall overthrow Each guilty grove.

Book 1, Poem 13

1Telephus—you praise him still, His waxen arms, his rosy-tinted neck; Ah! and all the while I thrill With jealous pangs I cannot, cannot check See, my colour comes and goes,

6My poor heart flutters, Lydia, and the dew, Down my cheek soft stealing, shows What lingering torments rack me through and through. Oh, 'tis agony te see Those snowwhite shoulders scarr'd in drunken fray,

11Or those ruby lips, where he Has left strange marks, that show how rough his play! Never, never look to find A faithful heart in him whose rage can harm Sweetest lips, which Venus kind

16Has tinctured with her quintessential charm. Happy, happy; happy they Whose living love, untroubled by all strife, Binds them till the last sad day, Nor parts asunder but with parting life!

Book 1, Poem 14

1O luckless bark! new waves will force you back To sea. O, haste to make the haven yours! E'en now, a helpless wrack, You drift, despoil'd of oars; The Afric gale has dealt your mast a wound;

6Your sailyards groan, nor can your keel sustain, Till lash'd with cables round, A more imperious main. Your canvass hangs in ribbons, rent and torn; No gods are left to pray to in fresh need.

11A pine of Pontus born Of noble forest breed, You boast your name and lineage—madly blind Can painted timbers quell a seaman's fear? Beware! or else the wind

16Makes you its mock and jeer. Your trouble late made sick this heart of mine, And still I love you, still am ill at ease. O, shun the sea, where shine The thick-sown Cyclades!

Book 1, Poem 15

1When the false swain was hurrying o'er the deep His Spartan hostess in the Idaean bark, Old Nereus laid the unwilling winds asleep, That all to Fate might hark, Speaking through him:—“Home in ill hour you take

6A prize whom Greece shall claim with troops untold, Leagued by an oath your marriage tie to break And Priam's kingdom old. Alas! what deaths you launch on Dardan realm! What tolls are waiting, man and horse to tire!

11See! Pallas trims her aegis and her helm, Her chariot and her ire. Vainly shall you; in Venus' favour strong, Your tresses comb, and for your dames divide On peaceful lyre the several parts of song;

16Vainly in chamber hide From spears and Gnossian arrows, barb'd with fate, And battle's din, and Ajax in the chase Unconquer'd; those adulterous locks, though late, Shall gory dust deface.

21Hark! 'tis the death-cry of your race! look back! Ulysses comes, and Pylian Nestor grey; See! Salaminian Teucer on your track, And Sthenelus, in the fray Versed, or with whip and rein, should need require,

26No laggard. Merion too your eyes shall know From far. Tydides, fiercer than his sire, Pursues you, all aglow; Him, as the stag forgets to graze for fright, Seeing the wolf at distance in the glade,

31And flies, high panting, you shall fly, despite Boasts to your leman made. What though Achilles' wrathful fleet postpone The day of doom to Troy and Troy's proud dames, Her towers shall fall, the number'd winters flown,

36Wrapp'd in Achaenan flames.”

Book 1, Poem 16

1O lovelier than the lovely dame That bore you, sentence as you please Those scurril verses, be it flame Your vengeance craves, or Hadrian seas. Not Cybele, nor he that haunts

6Rich Pytho, worse the brain confounds, Not Bacchus, nor the Corybants Clash their loud gongs with fiercer sounds Than savage wrath; nor sword nor spear Appals it, no, nor ocean's frown,

11Nor ravening fire, nor Jupiter In hideous ruin crashing down. Prometheus, forced, they say, to add To his prime clay some favourite part From every kind, took lion mad,

16And lodged its gall in man's poor heart. 'Twas wrath that laid Thyestes low; 'Tis wrath that oft destruction calls On cities, and invites the foe To drive his plough o'er ruin'd walls.

21Then calm your spirit; I can tell How once, when youth in all my veins Was glowing, blind with rage, I fell On friend and foe in ribald strains. Come, let me change my sour for sweet,

26And smile complacent as before: Hear me my palinode repeat, And give me back your heart once more.

Book 1, Poem 17

1The pleasures of Lucretilis Tempt Faunus from his Grecian seat; He keeps my little goats in bliss Apart from wind, and rain, and heat. In safety rambling o'er the sward

6For arbutes and for thyme they peer, The ladies of the unfragrant lord, Nor vipers, green with venom, fear, Nor savage wolves, of Mars' own breed, My Tyndaris, while Ustica's dell

11Is vocal with the silvan reed, And music thrills the limestone fell. Heaven is my guardian; heaven approves A blameless life, by song made sweet; Come hither, and the fields and groves

16Their horn shall empty at your feet. Here, shelter'd by a friendiy tree, In Teian measures you shall sing Bright Circe and Penelope, Love-smitten both by one sharp sting.

21Here shall you quaff beneath the shade Sweet Lesbian draughts that injure none, Nor fear lest Mars the realm invade Of Semele's Thyonian son, Lest Cyrus on a foe too weak

26Lay the rude hand of wild excess, His passion on your chaplet wreak, Or spoil your undeserving dress.

Book 1, Poem 18

1Varus, are your trees in planting? put in none before the vine, In the rich domain of Tibur, by the walls of Catilus; There's a power above that hampers all that sober brains design, And the troubles man is heir to thus are quell'd, and only thus. Who can talk of want or warfare when the wine is in his head,

6Not of thee, good father Bacchus, and of Venus fair and bright? But should any dream of licence, there's a lesson may be read, How 'twas wine that drove the Centaurs with the Lapithae to fight. And the Thracians too may warn us; truth and falsehood, good and ill, How they mix them, when the wine-god's hand is heavy on them laid!

11Never, never, gracious Bacchus, may I move thee 'gainst thy will, Or uncover what is hidden in the verdure of thy shade! Silence thou thy savage cymbals, and the Berecyntine horn; In their train Self-love still follows, dully, desperately blind, And Vain-glory, towering upwards in its emptyheaded scorn,

16And the Faith that keeps no secrets, with a window in its mind.

Book 1, Poem 19

1Cupid's mother, cruel dame, And Semele's Theban boy, and Licence bold, Bid me kindle into flame This heart, by waning passion now left cold. O, the charms of Glycera,

6That hue, more dazzling than the Parian stone! O, that sweet tormenting play, That too fair face, that blinds when look'd upon! Venus comes in all her might, Quits Cyprus for my heart, nor lets me tell

11Of the Parthian, bold in flight, Nor Scythian hordes, nor aught that breaks her spell. Heap the grassy altar up, Bring vervain, boys, and sacred frankincense; Fill the sacrificial cup;

16A victim's blood will soothe her vehemence.

Book 1, Poem 20

1Not large my cups, nor rich my cheer, This Sabine wine, which erst I seal'd, That day the applauding theatre Your welcome peal'd, Dear knight Maecenas! as 'twere fain

6That your paternal river's banks, And Vatican, in sportive strain, Should echo thanks. For you Calenian grapes are press'd, And Caecuban; these cups of mine

11Falernum's bounty ne'er has bless'd, Nor Formian vine.

Book 1, Poem 21

1Of Dian's praises, tender maidens, tell; Of Cynthus' unshorn god, young striplings, sing; And bright Latona, well Beloved of Heaven's high king. Sing her that streams and silvan foliage loves,

6Whate'er on Algidus' chill brow is seen, In Erymanthian groves Dark-leaved, or Cragus green. Sing Tempe too, glad youths, in strain as loud, And Phoebus' birthplace, and that shoulder fair,

11His golden quiver proud And brother's lyre to bear. His arm shall banish Hunger, Plague, and War To Persia and to Britain's coast, away From Rome and Caesar far,

16If you have zeal to pray.

Book 1, Poem 22

1No need of Moorish archer's craft To guard the pure and stainless liver; He wants not, Fuscus, poison'd shaft To store his quiver, Whether he traverse Libyan shoals,

6Or Caucasus, forlorn and horrent, Or lands where far Hydaspes rolls His fabled torrent. A wolf, while roaming trouble-free In Sabine wood, as fancy led me,

11Unarm'd I sang my Lalage, Beheld, and fled me. Dire monster! in her broad oak woods Fierce Daunia fosters none such other, Nor Juba's land, of lion broods

16The thirsty mother. Place me where on the ice-bound plain No tree is cheer'd by summer breezes, Where Jove descends in sleety rain Or sullen freezes;

21Place me where none can live for heat, 'Neath Phoebus' very chariot plant me, That smile so sweet, that voice so sweet, Shall still enchant me.

Book 1, Poem 23

1You fly me, Chloe, as o'er trackless hills A young fawn runs her timorous dam to find, Whom empty terror thrills Of woods and whispering wind. Whether 'tis Spring's first shiver, faintly heard

6Through the light leaves, or lizards in the brake The rustling thorns have stirr'd, Her heart, her knees, they quake. Yet I, who chase you, no grim lion am, No tiger fell, to crush you in my gripe:

11Come, learn to leave your dam. For lover's kisses ripe.

Book 1, Poem 24

1Why blush to let our tears unmeasured fall For one so dear? Begin the mournful stave, Melpomene, to whom the sire of all Sweet voice with music gave. And sleeps he then the heavy sleep of death,

6Quintilius? Piety, twin sister dear Of Justice! naked Truth! unsullied Faith! When will ye find his peer? By many a good man wept, Quintilius dies; By none than you, my Virgil, trulier wept:

11Devout in vain, you chide the faithless skies, Asking your loan ill-kept. No, though more suasive than the bard of Thrace You swept the lyre that trees were fain to hear, Ne'er should the blood revisit his pale face

16Whom once with wand severe Mercury has folded with the sons of night, Untaught to prayer Fate's prison to unseal. Ah, heavy grief! but patience makes more light What sorrow may not heal.

Book 1, Poem 26

1The Muses love me: fear and grief, The winds may blow them to the sea; Who quail before the wintry chief Of Scythia's realm, is nought to me. What cloud o'er Tiridates lowers,

6I care not, I. O, nymph divine Of virgin springs, with sunniest flowers A chaplet for my Lamia twine, Pimplea sweet! my praise were vain Without thee. String this maiden lyre,

11Attune for him the Lesbian strain, O goddess, with thy sister quire!

Book 1, Poem 27

1What, fight with cups that should give joy? 'Tis barbarous; leave such savage ways To Thracians. Bacchus, shamefaced boy, Is blushing at your bloody frays. The Median sabre! lights and wine!

6Was stranger contrast ever seen? Cease, cease this brawling, comrades mine, And still upon your elbows lean. Well, shall I take a toper's part Of fierce Falernian? let our guest,

11Megilla's brother, say what dart Gave the death-wound that makes him blest. He hesitates? no other hire Shall tempt my sober brains. Whate'er The goddess tames you, no base fire

16She kindles; 'tis some gentle fair Allures you still. Come, tell me truth, And trust my honour—That the name? That wild Charybdis yours? Poor youth! O, you deserved a better flame!

21What wizard, what Thessalian spell, What god can save you, hamper'd thus? To cope with this Chimaera fell Would task another Pegasus.

Book 1, Poem 28

1The sea, the earth, the innumerable sand, Archytas, thou couldst measure; now, alas! A little dust on Matine shore has spann'd That soaring spirit; vain it was to pass The gates of heaven, and send thy soul in quest

6O'er air's wide realms; for thou hadst yet to die. Ay, dead is Pelops' father, heaven's own guest, And old Tithonus, rapt from earth to sky, And Minos, made the council-friend of Jove; And Panthus' son has yielded up his breath

11Once more, though down he pluck'd the shield, to prove His prowess under Troy, and bade grim death O'er skin and nerves alone exert its power, Not he, you grant, in nature meanly read. Yes, all “await the inevitable hour;”

16The downward journey all one day must tread. Some bleed, to glut the war-god's savage eyes; Fate meets the sailor from the hungry brine; Youth jostles age in funeral obsequies; Each brow in turn is touch'd by Proserpine.

21Me, too, Orion's mate, the Southern blast, Whelm'd in deep death beneath the Illyrian wave. But grudge not, sailor, of driven sand to cast A handful on my head, that owns no grave. So, though the eastern tempests loudly threat

26Hesperia's main, may green Venusia's crown Be stripp'd, while you lie warm; may blessings yet Stream from Tarentum's guard, great Neptune, down, And gracious Jove, into your open lap! What! shrink you not from crime whose punishment

31Falls on your innocent children? it may hap Imperious Fate will make yourself repent. My prayers shall reach the avengers of all wrong; No expiations shall the curse unbind. Great though your haste, I would not task you long;

36Thrice sprinkle dust, then scud before the wind.

Book 1, Poem 29

1Your heart on Arab wealth is set, Good Iccius: you would try your steel On Saba's kings, unconquerd yet, And make the Mede your fetters feel. Come, tell me what barbarian fair

6Will serve you now, her bridegroom slain? What page from court with essenced hair Will tender you the bowl you drain, Well skill'd to bend the Serian bow His father carried? Who shall say

11That rivers may not uphill flow, And Tiber's self return one day, If you would change Panaetius' works, That costly purchase, and the clan Of Socrates, for shields and dirks,

16Whom once we thought a saner man?

Book 1, Poem 30

1Come, Cnidian, Paphian Venus, come,

2Thy well-beloved Cyprus spurn,

3Haste, where for thee in Glycera's home

4Sweet odours burn.

5Bring too thy Cupid, glowing warm,

6Graces and Nymphs, unzoned and free,

7And Youth, that lacking thee lacks charm,

8And Mercury.

Book 1, Poem 31

1What blessing shall the bard entreat The god he hallows, as he pours The winecup? Not the mounds of wheat That load Sardinian threshing floors; Not Indian gold or ivory—no,

6Nor flocks that o'er Calabria stray, Nor fields that Liris, still and slow, Is eating, unperceived, away. Let those whose fate allows them train Calenum's vine; let trader bold

11From golden cups rich liquor drain For wares of Syria bought and sold, Heaven's favourite, sooth, for thrice a year He comes and goes across the brine Undamaged. I in plenty here

16On endives, mallows, succory dine. O grant me, Phoebus, calm content, Strength unimpaird, a mind entire, Old age without dishonour spent, Nor unbefriended by the lyre!

Book 1, Poem 32

1They call;—if aught in shady dell We twain have warbled, to remain Long months or years, now breathe, my shell, A Roman strain, Thou, strung by Lesbos' minstrel hand,

6The bard, who 'mid the clash of steel, Or haply mooring to the strand His batter'd keel, Of Bacchus and the Muses sung, And Cupid, still at Venus' side,

11And Lycus, beautiful and young, Dark-hair'd, dark-eyed. O sweetest lyre, to Phoebus dear, Delight of Jove's high festival, Blest balm in trouble, hail and hear

16Whene'er I call!

Book 1, Poem 33

1What, Albius! why this passionate despair For cruel Glycera? why melt your voice In dolorous strains, because the perjured fair Has made a younger choice? See, narrow-brow'd Lycoris, how she glows

6For Cyrus! Cyrus turns away his head To Pholoe's frown; but sooner gentle roes Apulian wolves shall wed, Than Pholoe to so mean a conqueror strike: So Venus wills it; 'neath her brazen yoke

11She loves to couple forms and minds unlike, All for a heartless joke. For me sweet Love had forged a milder spell; But Myrtale still kept me her fond slave, More stormy she than the tempestuous swell

16That crests Calabria's wave.

Book 1, Poem 34

1My prayers were scant, my offerings few, While witless wisdom fool'd my mind; But now I trim my sails anew, And trace the course I left behind. For lo! the sire of heaven on high,

6By whose fierce bolts the clouds are riven, Today through an unclouded sky His thundering steeds and car has driven. E'en now dull earth and wandering floods, And Atlas' limitary range,

11And Styx, and Taenarus' dark abodes Are reeling. He can lowliest change And loftiest; bring the mighty down And lift the weak; with whirring flight Comes Fortune, plucks the monarch's crown,

16And decks therewith some meaner wight.

Book 1, Poem 35

1Lady of Antium, grave and stern! O Goddess, who canst lift the low To high estate, and sudden turn A triumph to a funeral show! Thee the poor hind that tills the soil

6Implores; their queen they own in thee, Who in Bithynian vessel toil Amid the vex'd Carpathian sea. Thee Dacians fierce, and Scythian hordes, Peoples and towns, and Rome, their head,

11And mothers of barbarian lords, And tyrants in their purple dread, Lest, spurn'd by thee in scorn, should fall The state's tall prop, lest crowds on fire To arms, to arms! the loiterers call,

16And thrones be tumbled in the mire. Necessity precedes thee still With hard fierce eyes and heavy tramp: Her hand the nails and wedges fill, The molten lead and stubborn clamp.

21Hope, precious Truth in garb of white, Attend thee still, nor quit thy side When with changed robes thou tak'st thy flight In anger from the homes of pride. Then the false herd, the faithless fair,

26Start backward; when the wine runs dry. The jocund guests, too light to bear An equal yoke, asunder fly. O shield our Caesar as he goes To furthest Britain, and his band,

31Rome's harvest! Send on Eastern foes Their fear, and on the Red Sea strand! O wounds that scarce have ceased to run! O brother's blood! O iron time! What horror have we left undone?

36Has conscience shrunk from aught of crime? What shrine has rapine held in awe? What altar spared? O haste and beat The blunted steel we yet may draw On Arab and on Massagete!

Book 1, Poem 36

1Bid the lyre and cittern play; Enkindle incense, shed the victim's gore; Heaven has watch'd o'er Numida, And brings him safe from far Hispania's shore. Now, returning, he bestows

6On each dear comrade all the love he can; But to Lamia most he owes, By whose sweet side he grew from boy to man. Note we in our calendar This festal day with whitest mark from Crete:

11Let it flow, the old wine-jar, And ply to Salian time your restless feet. Damalis tosses off her wine, But Bassus sure must prove her match tonight. Give us roses all to twine,

16And parsley green, and lilies deathly white. Every melting eye will rest On Damalis' lovely face; but none may part Damalis from our new-found guest; She clings, and clings, like ivy, round his heart.

Book 1, Poem 37

1Now drink we deep, now featly tread A measure; now before each shrine With Salian feasts the table spread; The time invites us, comrades mine. 'Twas shame to broach, before today,

6The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame Threaten'd our power in dust to lay And wrap the Capitol in flame, Girt with her foul emasculate throng, By Fortune's sweet new wine befool'd,

11In hope's ungovern'd weakness strong To hope for all; but soon she cool'd, To see one ship from burning 'scape; Great Caesar taught her dizzy brain, Made mad by Mareotic grape,

16To feel the sobering truth of pain, And gave her chase from Italy, As after doves fierce falcons speed, As hunters 'neath Haemonia's sky Chase the tired hare, so might he lead

21The fiend enchain'd; she sought to die More nobly, nor with woman's dread Quail'd at the steel, nor timorously In her fleet ships to covert fled. Amid her ruin'd halls she stood

26Unblench'd, and fearless to the end Grasp'd the fell snakes, that all her blood Might with the cold black venom blend, Death's purpose flushing in her face; Nor to our ships the glory gave,

31That she, no vulgar dame, should grace A triumph, crownless, and a slave.

Book 1, Poem 38

1No Persian cumber, boy, for me;

2I hate your garlands linden-plaited;

3Leave winter's rose where on the tree

4It hangs belated.

5Wreath me plain myrtle; never think

6Plain myrtle either's wear unfitting,

7Yours as you wait, mine as I drink

8In vine-bower sitting.

Book 2, Poem 1

1The broils that from Metellus date, The secret springs, the dark intrigues, The freaks of Fortune, and the great Confederate in disastrous leagues, And arms with uncleansed slaughter red,

6A work of danger and distrust, You treat, as one on fire should tread Scarce hid by treacherous ashen crust. Let Tragedy's stern muse be mute Awhile; and when your order'd page

11Has told Rome's tale, that buskin'd foot Again shall mount the Attic stage, Pollio, the pale defendant's shield, In deep debate the senate's stay, The hero of Dalmatic field

16By Triumph crown'd with deathless bay. E'en now with trumpet's threatening blare You thrill our ears; the clarion brays; The lightnings of the armour scare The steed, and daunt the rider's gaze.

21Methinks I hear of leaders proud With no uncomely dust distain'd, And all the world by conquest bow'd, And only Cato's soul unchain'd. Yes, Juno and the powers on high

26That left their Afric to its doom, Have led the victors' progeny As victims to Jugurtha's tomb. What field, by Latian blood-drops fed, Proclaims not the unnatural deeds

31It buries, and the earthquake dread Whose distant thunder shook the Medes? What gulf, what river has not seen Those sights of sorrow? nay, what sea Has Daunian carnage yet left green?

36What coast from Roman blood is free? But pause, gay Muse, nor leave your play Another Cean dirge to sing; With me to Venus' bower away, And there attune a lighter string.

Book 2, Poem 2

1The silver, Sallust, shows not fair While buried in the greedy mine: You love it not till moderate wear Have given it shine. Honour to Proculeius! he

6To brethren play'd a father's part; Fame shall embalm through years to be That noble heart. Who curbs a greedy soul may boast More power than if his broad-based throne

11Bridged Libya's sea, and either coast Were all his own. Indulgence bids the dropsy grow; Who fain would quench the palate's flame Must rescue from the watery foe

16The pale weak frame. Phraates, throned where Cyrus sate, May count for blest with vulgar herds, But not with Virtue; soon or late From lying words

21She weans men's lips; for him she keeps The crown, the purple, and the bays, Who dares to look on treasure-heaps With unblench'd gaze.

Book 2, Poem 3

1An equal mind, when storms o'ercloud, Maintain, nor 'neath a brighter sky Let pleasure make your heart too proud, O Dellius, Dellius! sure te die, Whether in gloom you spend each year,

6Or through long holydays at ease In grassy nook your spirit cheer With old Falernian vintages, Where poplar pale, and pine-tree high Their hospitable shadows spread

11Entwined, and panting waters try To hurry down their zigzag bed. Bring wine and scents, and roses' bloom, Too brief, alas! to that sweet place; While life, and fortune, and the loom

16Of the Three Sisters yield you grace. Soon must you leave the woods you buy, Your villa, wash'd by Tiber's flow, Leave,—and your treasures, heap'd so high, Your reckless heir will level low.

21Whether from Argos' founder born In wealth you lived beneath the sun, Or nursed in beggary and scorn, You fall to Death, who pities none. One way all travel; the dark urn

26Shakes each man's lot, that soon or late Will force him, hopeless of return, On board the exile-ship of Fate.

Book 2, Poem 4

1Why, Xanthias, blush to own you love Your slave? Briseis, long ago, A captive, could Achilles move With breast of snow. Tecmessa's charms enslaved her lord,

6Stout Ajax, heir of Telamon; Atrides, in his pride, adored The maid he won, When Troy to Thessaly gave way, And Hector's all too quick decease

11Made Pergamus an easier prey To wearied Greece. What if, as auburn Phyllis' mate, You graft yourself on regal stem? Oh yes! be sure her sires were great;

16She weeps for them. Believe me, from no rascal scum Your charmer sprang; so true a flame, Such hate of greed, could never come From vulgar dame.

21With honest fervour I commend Those lips, those eyes; you need not fear A rival, hurrying on to end His fortieth year.

Book 2, Poem 6

1Septimius, who with me would brave Far Gades, and Cantabrian land Untamed by Rome, and Moorish wave That whirls the sand; Fair Tibur, town of Argive kings,

6There would I end my days serene, At rest from seas and travellings, And service seen. Should angry Fate those wishes foil, Then let me seek Galesus, sweet

11To skin-clad sheep, and that rich soil, The Spartan's seat. O, what can match the green recess, Whose honey not to Hybla yields, Whose olives vie with those that bless

16Venafrum's fields? Long springs, mild winters glad that spot By Jove's good grace, and Aulon, dear To fruitful Bacchus, envies not Falernian cheer.

21That spot, those happy heights desire Our sojourn; there, when life shall end, Your tear shall dew my yet warm pyre, Your bard and friend.

Book 2, Poem 7

1O, oft with me in troublous time Involved, when Brutus warr'd in Greece, Who gives you back to your own clime And your own gods, a man of peace, Pompey, the earliest friend I knew,

6With whom I oft cut short the hours With wine, my hair bright bathed in dew Of Syrian oils, and wreathed with flowers? With you I shared Philippi's rout, Unseemly parted from my shield,

11When Valour fell, and warriors stout Were tumbled on the inglorious field: But I was saved by Mercury, Wrapp'd in thick mist, yet trembling sore, While you to that tempestuous sea

16Were swept by battle's tide once more. Come, pay to Jove the feast you owe; Lay down those limbs, with warfare spent, Beneath my laurel; nor be slow To drain my cask; for you 'twas meant.

21Lethe's true draught is Massic wine; Fill high the goblet; pour out free Rich streams of unguent. Who will twine The hasty wreath from myrtle-tree Or parsley? Whom will Venus seat

26Chairman of cups? Are Bacchants sane? Then I'll be sober. O, 'tis sweet To fool, when friends come home again!

Book 2, Poem 8

1Had chastisement for perjured truth, Barine, mark'd you with a curse— Did one wry nail, or one black tooth, But make you worse— I'd trust you; but, when plighted lies

6Have pledged you deepest, lovelier far You sparkle forth, of all young eyes The ruling star. 'Tis gain to mock your mother's bones, And night's still signs, and all the sky,

11And gods, that on their glorious thrones Chill Death defy. Ay, Venus smiles; the pure nymphs smile, And Cupid, tyrant-lord of hearts, Sharpening on bloody stone the while

16His fiery darts. New captives fill the nets you weave; New slaves are bred; and those before, Though oft they threaten, never leave Your godless door.

21The mother dreads you for her son, The thrifty sire, the new-wed bride, Lest, lured by you, her precious one Should leave her side.

Book 2, Poem 9

1The rain, it rains not every day On the soak'd meads; the Caspian main Not always feels the unequal sway Of storms, nor on Armenia's plain, Dear Valgius, lies the cold dull snow

6Through all the year; nor northwinds keen Upon Garganian oakwoods blow, And strip the ashes of their green. You still with tearful tones pursue Your lost, lost Mystes; Hesper sees

11Your passion when he brings the dew, And when before the sun he flees. Yet not for loved Antilochus Grey Nestor wasted all his years In grief; nor o'er young Troilus

16His parents' and his sisters' tears For ever flow'd. At length have done With these soft sorrows; rather tell Of Caesar's trophies newly won, And hoar Niphates' icy fell,

21And Medus' flood, 'mid conquer'd tribes Rolling a less presumptuous tide, And Scythians taught, as Rome prescribes, Henceforth o'er narrower steppes to ride.

Book 2, Poem 10

1Licinius, trust a seaman's lore: Steer not too boldly to the deep, Nor, fearing storms, by treacherous shore Too closely creep. Who makes the golden mean his guide,

6Shuns miser's cabin, foul and dark, Shuns gilded roofs, where pomp and pride Are envy's mark. With fiercer blasts the pine's dim height Is rock'd; proud towers with heavier fall

11Crash to the ground; and thunders smite The mountains tall. In sadness hope, in gladness fear 'Gainst coming change will fortify Your breast. The storms that Jupiter

16Sweeps o'er the sky He chases. Why should rain today Bring rain tomorrow? Python's foe Is pleased sometimes his lyre to play, Nor bends his bow.

21Be brave in trouble; meet distress With dauntless front; but when the gale Too prosperous blows, be wise no less, And shorten sail.

Book 2, Poem 11

1O ask not what those sons of war, Cantabrian, Scythian, each intend, Disjoin'd from us by Hadria's bar, Nor puzzle, Quintius, how to spend A life so simple. Youth removes,

6And Beauty too; and hoar Decay Drives out the wanton tribe of Loves And Sleep, that came or night or day. The sweet spring-flowers not always keep Their bloom, nor moonlight shines the same

11Each evening. Why with thoughts too deep O'ertask a mind of mortal frame? Why not, just thrown at careless ease 'Neath plane or pine, our locks of grey Perfumed with Syrian essences

16And wreathed with roses, while we may, Lie drinking? Bacchus puts to shame The cares that waste us. Where's the slave To quench the fierce Falernian's flame With water from the passing wave?

21Who'll coax coy Lyde from her home? Go, bid her take her ivory lyre, The runaway, and haste to come, Her wild hair bound with Spartan tire.

Book 2, Poem 12

1The weary war where fierce Numantia bled, Fell Hannibal, the swoln Sicilian main Purpled with Punic blood—not mine to wed These to the lyre's soft strain, Nor cruel Lapithae, nor, mad with wine,

6Centaurs, nor, by Herculean arm o'ercome, The earth-born youth, whose terrors dimm'd the shine Of the resplendent dome Of ancient Saturn. You, Maecenas, best In pictured prose of Caesar's warrior feats

11Will tell, and captive kings with haughty crest Led through the Roman streets. On me the Muse has laid her charge to tell Of your Licymnia's voice, the lustrous hue Of her bright eye, her heart that beats so well

16To mutual passion true: How nought she does but lends her added grace, Whether she dance, or join in bantering play, Or with soft arms the maiden choir embrace On great Diana's day.

21Say, would you change for all the wealth possest By rich Achaemenes or Phrygia's heir, Or the full stores of Araby the blest, One lock of her dear hair, While to your burning lips she bends her neck,

26Or with kind cruelty denies the due She means you not to beg for, but to take, Or snatches it from you?

Book 2, Poem 13

1Black day he chose for planting thee, Accurst he rear'd thee from the ground, The bane of children yet to be, The scandal of the village round. His father's throat the monster press'd

6Beside, and on his hearthstone spilt, I ween, the blood of midnight guest; Black Colchian drugs, whate'er of guilt Is hatch'd on earth, he dealt in all— Who planted in my rural stead

11Thee, fatal wood, thee, sure to fall Upon thy blameless master's head. The dangers of the hour! no thought We give them; Punic seaman's fear Is all of Bosporus, nor aught

16Reeks he of pitfalls otherwhere; The soldier fears the mask'd retreat Of Parthia; Parthia dreads the thrall Of Rome; but Death with noiseless feet Has stolen and will steal on all.

21How near dark Pluto's court I stood, And Aeacus' judicial throne, The blest seclusion of the good, And Sappho, with sweet lyric moan Bewailing her ungentle sex,

26And thee, Alcaeus, louder far Chanting thy tale of woful wrecks, Of woful exile, woful war! In sacred awe the silent dead Attend on each: but when the song

31Of combat tells and tyrants fled, Keen ears, press'd shoulders, closer throng. What marvel, when at those sweet airs The hundred-headed beast spell-bound Each black ear droops, and Furies' hairs

36Uncoil their serpents at the sound? Prometheus too and Pelops' sire In listening lose the sense of woe; Orion hearkens to the lyre, And lets the lynx and lion go.

Book 2, Poem 14

1Ah, Postumus! they fleet away, Our years, nor piety one hour Can win from wrinkles and decay, And Death's indomitable power; Not though three hundred bullocks flame

6Each year, to soothe the tearless king Who holds huge Geryon's triple frame And Tityos in his watery ring, That circling flood, which all must stem, Who eat the fruits that Nature yields,

11Wearers of haughtiest diadem, Or humblest tillers of the fields. In vain we shun war's contact red Or storm-tost spray of Hadrian main: In vain, the season through, we dread

16For our frail lives Scirocco's bane. Cocytus' black and stagnant ooze Must welcome you, and Danaus' seed Ill-famed, and ancient Sisyphus To never-ending toil decreed.

21Your land, your house, your lovely bride Must lose you; of your cherish'd trees None to its fleeting master's side Will cleave, but those sad cypresses. Your heir, a larger soul, will drain

26The hundred-padlock'd Caecuban, And richer spilth the pavement stain Than e'er at pontiff's supper ran.

Book 2, Poem 15

1Few roods of ground the piles we raise Will leave to plough; ponds wider spread Than Lucrine lake will meet the gaze On every side; the plane unwed Will top the elm; the violet-bed,

6The myrtle, each delicious sweet, On olive-grounds their scent will shed, Where once were fruit-trees yielding meat; Thick bays will screen the midday range Of fiercest suns. Not such the rule

11Of Romulus, and Cato sage, And all the bearded, good old school. Each Roman's wealth was little worth, His country's much; no colonnade For private pleasance wooed the North

16With cool “prolixity of shade.” None might the casual sod disdain To roof his home; a town alone, At public charge, a sacred fane Were honour'd with the pomp of stone.

Book 2, Poem 16

1For ease, in wide Aegean caught, The sailor prays, when clouds are hiding The moon, nor shines of starlight aught For seaman's guiding: For ease the Mede, with quiver gay:

6For ease rude Thrace, in battle cruel: Can purple buy it, Grosphus? Nay, Nor gold, nor jewel. No pomp, no lictor clears the way 'Mid rabble-routs of troublous feelings,

11Nor quells the cares that sport and play Round gilded ceilings. More happy he whose modest board His father's well-worn silver brightens; No fear, nor lust for sordid hoard,

16His light sleep frightens. Why bend our bows of little span? Why change our homes for regions under Another sun? What exiled man From self can sunder?

21Care climbs the bark, and trims the sail, Curst fiend! nor troops of horse can 'scape her, More swift than stag, more swift than gale That drives the vapour. Blest in the present, look not forth

26On ills beyond, but soothe each bitter With slow, calm smile. No suns on earth Unclouded glitter. Achilles' light was quench'd at noon; A long decay Tithonus minish'd;

31My hours, it may be, yet will run When yours are flnish'd. For you Sicilian heifers low, Bleat countless flocks; for you are neighing Proud coursers; Afric purples glow

36For your arraying With double dyes; a small domain, The soul that breathed in Grecian harping, My portion these; and high disdain Of ribald carping.

Book 2, Poem 17

1Why rend my heart with that sad sigh? It cannot please the gods or me That you, Maecenas, first should die, My pillar of prosperity. Ah! should I lose one half my soul

6Untimely, can the other stay Behind it? Life that is not whole, Is that as sweet? The self-same day Shall crush us twain; no idle oath Has Horace sworn; whene'er you go,

11We both will travel, travel both The last dark journey down below. No, not Chimaera's fiery breath, Nor Gyas, could he rise again, Shall part us; Justice, strong as death,

16So wills it; so the Fates ordain. Whether 'twas Libra saw me born Or angry Scorpio, lord malign Of natal hour, or Capricorn, The tyrant of the western brine,

21Our planets sure with concord strange Are blended. You by Jove's blest power Were snatch'd from out the baleful range Of Saturn, and the evil hour Was stay'd, when rapturous benches full

26Three times the auspicious thunder peal'd; Me the curst trunk, that smote my skull, Had slain; but Faunus, strong to shield The friends of Mercury, check'd the blow In mid descent. Be sure to pay

31The victims and the fane you owe; Your bard a humbler lamb will slay.

Book 2, Poem 18

1Carven ivory have I none No golden cornice in my dwelling shines; Pillars choice of Libyan stone Upbear no architrave from Attic mines; 'Twas not mine to enter in

6To Attalus' broad realms, an unknown heir, Nor for me fair clients spin Laconian purples for their patron's wear. Truth is mine, and Genius mine; The rich man comes, and knocks at my low door:

11Favour'd thus, I ne'er repine, Nor weary out indulgent Heaven for more: In my Sabine homestead blest, Why should I further tax a generous friend? Suns are hurrying suns a-west,

16And newborn moons make speed to meet their end. You have hands to square and hew Vast marble-blocks, hard on your day of doom, Ever building mansions new, Nor thinking of the mansion of the tomb.

21Now you press on ocean's bound, Where waves on Baiae beat, as earth were scant; Now absorb your neighbour's ground, And tear his landmarks up, your own to plant. Hedges set round clients' farms

26Your avarice tramples; see, the outcasts fly, Wife and husband, in their arms Their fathers' gods, their squalid family. Yet no hall that wealth e'er plann'd Waits you more surely than the wider room

31Traced by Death's yet greedier hand. Why strain so far? you cannot leap the tomb. Earth removes the impartial sod Alike for beggar and for monarch's child: Nor the slave of Hell's dark god

36Convey'd Prometheus back, with bribe beguiled. Pelops he and Pelops' sire Holds, spite of pride, in close captivity; Beggars, who of labour tire, Call'd or uncall'd, he hears and sets them free.

Book 2, Poem 19

1Bacchus I saw in mountain glades Retired (believe it, after years!) Teaching his strains to Dryad maids, While goat-hoof'd satyrs prick'd their ears. Evoe! my eyes with terror glare;

6My heart is revelling with the god; 'Tis madness! Evoe! spare, O spare, Dread wielder of the ivied rod! Yes, I may sing the Thyiad crew, The stream of wine, the sparkling rills

11That run with milk, and honey-dew That from the hollow trunk distils; And I may sing thy consort's crown, New set in heaven, and Pentheus' hall With ruthless ruin thundering down,

16And proud Lycurgus' funeral. Thou turn'st the rivers, thou the sea; Thou, on far summits, moist with wine, Thy Bacchants' tresses harmlessly Dost knot with living serpent-twine.

21Thou, when the giants, threatening wrack, Were clambering up Jove's citadel, Didst hurl o'erweening Rhoetus back, In tooth and claw a lion fell. Who knew thy feats in dance and play

26Deem'd thee belike for war's rough game Unmeet: but peace and battle-fray Found thee, their centre, still the same. Grim Cerberus wagg'd his tail to see Thy golden horn, nor dreamd of wrong.

31But gently fawning, follow'd thee, And lick'd thy feet with triple tongue.

Book 2, Poem 20

1No vulgar wing, nor weakly plied, Shall bear me through the liquid sky; A two-form'd bard, no more to bide Within the range of envy's eye 'Mid haunts of men. I, all ungraced

6By gentle blood, I, whom you call Your friend, Maecenas, shall not taste Of death, nor chafe in Lethe's thrall. E'en now a rougher skin expands Along my legs: above I change

11To a white bird; and o'er my hands And shoulders grows a plumage strange: Fleeter than Icarus, see me float O'er Bosporus, singing as I go, And o'er Gaetulian sands remote,

16And Hyperborean fields of snow; By Dacian horde, that masks its fear Of Marsic steel, shall I be known, And furthest Scythian: Spain shall hear My warbling, and the banks of Rhone.

21No dirges for my fancied death; No weak lament, no mournful stave; All clamorous grief were waste of breath, And vain the tribute of a grave.

Book 3, Poem 1

1Bid the unhallow'd crowd avaunt! Keep holy silence; strains unknown Till now, the Muses' hierophant, I sing to youths and maids alone. Kings o'er their flocks the sceptre wield;

6E'en kings beneath Jove's sceptre bow: Victor in giant battle-field, He moves all nature with his brow. This man his planted walks extends Beyond his peers; an older name

11One to the people's choice commends; One boasts a more unsullied fame; One plumes him on a larger crowd Of clients. What are great or small? Death takes the mean man with the proud;

16The fatal urn has room for all. When guilty Pomp the drawn sword sees Hung o'er her, richest feasts in vain Strain their sweet juice her taste to please; No lutes, no singing birds again

21Will bring her sleep. Sleep knows no pride; It scorns not cots of village hinds, Nor shadow-trembling river-side, Nor Tempe, stirr'd by western winds. Who, having competence, has all,

26The tumult of the sea defies, Nor fears Arcturus' angry fall, Nor fears the Kid-star's sullen rise, Though hail-storms on the vineyard beat, Though crops deceive, though trees complain,

31One while of showers, one while of heat, One while of winter's barbarous reign. Fish feel the narrowing of the main From sunken piles, while on the strand Contractors with their busy train

36Let down huge stones, and lords of land Affect the sea: but fierce Alarm Can clamber to the master's side: Black Cares can up ihe galley swarm, And close behind the horseman ride.

41If Phrygian marbles soothe not pain, Nor star-bright purple's costliest wear, Nor vines of true Falernian strain, Nor Achaemenian spices rare, Why with rich gate and pillard range

46Upbuild new mansions, twice as high, Or why my Sabine vale exchange For more laborious luxury?

Book 3, Poem 2

1To suffer hardness with good cheer, In sternest school of warfare bred, Our youth should learn; let steed and spear Make him one day the Parthian's dread; Cold skies, keen perils, brace his life.

6Methinks I see from rampired town Some battling tyrant's matron wife, Some maiden, look in terror down,— “Ah, my dear lord, untrain'd in war! O tempt not the infuriate mood

11Of that fell lion I see! from far He plunges through a tide of blood!“ What joy, for fatherland to die! Death's darts e'en flying feet o'ertake, Nor spare a recreant chivalry,

16A back that cowers, or loins that quake. True Virtue never knows defeat: Her robes she keeps unsullied still, Nor takes, nor quits, her curule seat To please a people's veering will.

21True Virtue opens heaven to worth: She makes the way she does not find: The vulgar crowd, the humid earth, Her soaring pinion leaves behind. Seal'd lips have blessings sure to come:

26Who drags Eleusis' rite today, That man shall never share my home, Or join my voyage: roofs give way And boats are wreck'd: true men and thieves Neglected Justice oft confounds:

31Though Vengeance halt, she seldom leaves The wretch whose flying steps she hounds.

Book 3, Poem 3

1The man of firm and righteous will, No rabble, clamorous for the wrong, No tyrant's brow, whose frown may kill, Can shake the strength that makes him strong: Not winds, that chafe the sea they sway,

6Nor Jove's right hand, with lightning red: Should Nature's pillar'd frame give way, That wreck would strike one fearless head. Pollux and roving Hercules Thus won their way to Heaven's proud steep,

11'Mid whom Augustus, couch'd at ease, Dyes his red lips with nectar deep. For this, great Bacchus, tigers drew Thy glorious car, untaught to slave In harness: thus Quirinus flew

16On Mars' wing'd steeds from Acheron's wave, When Juno spoke with Heaven's assent: “O Ilium, Ilium, wretched town! The judge accurst, incontinent, And stranger dame have dragg'd thee down.

21Pallas and I, since Priam's sire Denied the gods his pledged reward, Had doom'd them all to sword and fire, The people and their perjured lord. No more the adulterous guest can charm

26The Spartan queen: the house forsworn No more repels by Hector's arm My warriors, baffled and outworn: Hush'd is the war our strife made long: I welcome now, my hatred o'er,

31A grandson in the child of wrong, Him whom the Trojan priestess bore. Receive him, Mars! the gates of flame May open: let him taste forgiven The nectar, and enrol his name

36Among the peaceful ranks of Heaven. Let the wide waters sever still Ilium and Rome, the exiled race May reign and prosper where they will: So but in Paris' burial-place

41The cattle sport, the wild beasts hide Their cubs, the Capitol may stand All bright, and Rome in warlike pride O'er Media stretch a conqueror's hand. Aye, let her scatter far and wide

46Her terror, where tbe land-lock'd waves Europe from Afric's shore divide, Where swelling Nile the corn-field laves— Of strength more potent to disdain Hid gold, best buried in the mine,

51Than gather it with hand profane, That for man's greed would rob a shrine. Whate'er the bound to earth ordain'd, There let her reach the arm of power, Travelling, where raves the fire unrein'd,

56And where the storm-cloud and the shower. Yet, warlike Roman, know thy doom, Nor, drunken with a conqueror's joy, Or blind with duteous zeal, presume To build again ancestral Troy.

61Should Troy revive to hateful life, Her star again should set in gore, While I, Jove's sister and his wife, To victory led my host once more. Though Phoebus thrice in brazen mail

66Should case her towers, they thrice should fall, Storm'd by my Greeks: thrice wives should wail Husband and son, themselves in thrall.”— Such thunders from the lyre of love! Back, wayward Muse! refrain, refrain

71To tell the talk of gods above, And dwarf high themes in puny strain.

Book 3, Poem 4

1Come down, Calliope, from above: Breathe on the pipe a strain of fire: Or if a graver note thou love, With Phoebus' cittern and his lyre. You hear her? or is this the play

6Of fond illusion? Hark! meseems Through gardens of the good I stray, 'Mid murmuring gales and purling streams. Me, as I lay on Vultur's steep, A truant past Apulia's bound,

11O'ertired, poor child, with play and sleep, With living green the stock-doves crown'd— A legend, nay, a miracle, By Acherontia's nestlings told, By all in Bantine glade that dwell,

16Or till the rich Forentan mould. “Bears, vipers, spared him as he lay, The sacred garland deck'd his hair, The myrtle blended with the bay: The child's inspired: the gods were there.”

21Your grace, sweet Muses, shields me still On Sabine heights, or lets me range Where cool Praeneste, Tibur's hill, Or liquid Baiae proffers change. Me to your springs, your dances true,

26Philippi bore not to the ground, Nor the doom'd tree in falling slew, Nor billowy Palinurus drown'd. Grant me your presence, blithe and fain Mad Bosporus shall my bark explore;

31My foot shall tread the sandy plain That glows beside Assyria's shore; 'Mid Briton tribes, the stranger's foe, And Spaniards, drunk with horses' blood, And quiver'd Scythians, will I go

36Unharm'd, and look on Tanais' flood. When Caesar's self in peaceful town The weary veteran's home has made, You bid him lay his helmet down And rest in your Pierian shade.

41Mild thoughts you plant, and joy to see Mild thoughts take root. The nations know How with descending thunder he The impious Titans hurl'd below, Who rules dull earth and stormy seas,

46And towns of men, and realms of pain, And gods, and mortal companies, Alone, impartial in his reign. Yet Jove had fear'd the giant rush, Their upraised arms, their port of pride,

51And the twin brethren bent to push Huge Pelion up Olympus' side. But Typhon, Mimas, what could these, Or what Porphyrion's stalwart scorn, Rhoetus, or he whose spears were trees,

56Enceladus, from earth uptorn, As on they rush'd in mad career 'Gainst Pallas' shield? Here met the foe Fierce Vulcan, queenly Juno here, And he who ne'er shall quit his bow,

61Who laves in clear Castalian flood His locks, and loves the leafy growth Of Lycia next his native wood, The Delian and the Pataran both. Strength, mindless, falls by its own weight;

66Strength, mix'd with mind, is made more strong By the just gods, who surely hate The strength whose thoughts are set on wrong. Let hundred-handed Gyas bear His witness, and Orion known

71Tempter of Dian, chaste and fair, By Dian's maiden dart o'erthrown. Hurl'd on the monstrous shapes she bred, Earth groans, and mourns her children thrust To Orcus; Aetna's weight of lead

76Keeps down the fire that breaks its crust; Still sits the bird on Tityos' breast, The warder of Unlawful love; Still suffers lewd Pirithous, prest By massive chains no hand may move.

Book 3, Poem 5

1Jove rules in heaven, his thunder shows; Henceforth Augustus earth shall own Her present god, now Briton foes And Persians bow before his throne. Has Crassus' soldier ta'en to wife

6A base barbarian, and grown grey (Woe, for a nation's tainted life!) Earning his foemen-kinsmen's pay, His king, forsooth, a Mede, his sire A Marsian? can he name forget,

11Gown, sacred shield, undying fire, And Jove and Rome are standing yet? 'Twas this that Regulus foresaw, What time he spurn'd the foul disgrace Of peace, whose precedent would draw

16Destruction on an unborn race, Should aught but death the prisoner's chain Unrivet. “I have seen,” he said, “Rome's eagle in a Punic fane, And armour, ne'er a blood-drop shed,

21Stripp'd from the soldier; I have seen Free sons of Rome with arms fast tied; The fields we spoil'd with corn are green, And Carthage opes her portals wide. The warrior, sure, redeem'd by gold,

26Will fight the bolder! Aye, you heap On baseness loss. The hues of old Revisit not the wool we steep; And genuine worth, expell'd by fear, Returns not to the worthless slave.

31Break but her meshes, will the deer Assail you? then will he be brave Who once to faithless foes has knelt; Yes, Carthage yet his spear will fly, Who with bound arms the cord has felt,

36The coward, and has fear'd to die. He knows not, he, how life is won; Thinks war, like peace, a thing of trade! Great art thou, Carthage! mate the sun, While Italy in dust is laid!”

41His wife's pure kiss he waved aside, And prattling boys, as one disgraced, They tell us, and with manly pride Stern on the ground his visage placed. With counsel thus ne'er else aread

46He nerved the fathers' weak intent, And, girt by friends that mourn'd him, sped Into illustrious banishment. Well witting what the torturer's art Design'd him, with like unconcern

51The press of kin he push'd apart And crowds encumbering his return, As though, some tedious business o'er Of clients' court, his journey lay Towards Venafrum's grassy floor,

56Or Sparta-built Tarentum's bay.

Book 3, Poem 6

1Your fathers' guilt you still must pay, Till, Roman, you restore each shrine, Each temple, 'mouldering in decay, And smoke-grimed statue, scarce divine. Revering Heaven, you rule below;

6Be that your base, your coping still; 'Tis Heaven neglected bids o'erflow The measure of Italian ill. Now Pacorus and Monaeses twice Have given our unblest arms the foil;

11Their necklaces, of mean device; Smiling they deck with Roman spoil. Our city, torn by faction's throes, Dacian and Ethiop well-nigh razed, These with their dreadful navy, those

16For archer-prowess rather praised. An evil age erewhile debased The marriage-bed, the race, the home; Thence rose the flood whose waters waste The nation and the name of Rome.

21Not such their birth, who stain'd for us The sea with Punic carnage red, Smote Pyrrhus, smote Antiochus, And Hannibal, the Roman's dread. Theirs was a hardy soldier-brood,

26Inured all day the land to till With Sabine spade, then shoulder wood Hewn at a stern old mother's will, When sunset lengthen'd from each height The shadows, and unyoked the steer,

31Restoring in its westward flight The hour to toilworn travail dear. What has not cankering Time made worse? Viler than grandsires, sires beget Ourselves, yet baser, soon to curse

36The world with offspring baser yet.

Book 3, Poem 7

1Why weep for him whom sweet Favonian airs Will waft next spring, Asteria, back to you, Rich with Bithynia's wares, A lover fond and true, Your Gyges? He, detain'd by stormy stress

6At Oricum, about the Goat-star's rise, Cold, wakeful, comfortless, The long night weeping lies. Meantime his lovesick hostess' messenger Talks of the flames that waste poor Chloe's heart

11(Flames lit for you, not her!) With a besieger's art; Shows how a treacherous woman's lying breath Once on a time on trustful Proetus won To doom to early death

16Too chaste Bellerophon; Warns him of Peleus' peril, all but slain For virtuous scorn of fair Hippolyta, And tells again each tale That e'er led heart astray.

21In vain; for deafer than Icarian seas He hears, untainted yet. But, lady fair, What if Enipeus please Your listless eye? beware! Though true it be that none with surer seat

26O'er Mars's grassy turf is seen to ride, Nor any swims so fleet Adown the Tuscan tide, Yet keep each evening door and window barr'd; Look not abroad when music strikes up shrill,

31And though he call you hard, Remain obdurate still.

Book 3, Poem 8

1The first of March! a man unwed! What can these flowers, this censer mean? Or what these embers, glowing red On sods of green? You ask, in either language skill'd!

6A feast I vow'd to Bacchus free, A white he-goat, when all but kill'd By falling tree. So, when that holyday comes round, It sees me still the rosin clear

11From this my wine-jar, first embrown'd In Tullus' year. Come, crush one hundred cups for life Preserved, Maecenas; keep till day The candles lit; let noise and strife

16Be far away. Lay down that load of state-concern; The Dacian hosts are all o'erthrown; The Mede, that sought our overturn, Now seeks his own;

21A servant now, our ancient foe, The Spaniard, wears at last our chain; The Scythian half unbends his bow And quits the plain. Then fret not lest the state should ail;

26A private man such thoughts may spare; Enjoy the present hour's regale, And banish care.

Book 3, Poem 9

1While I had power to bless you, Nor any round that neck his arms did fling More privileged to caress you, Happier was Horace than the Persian king. While you for none were pining

6Sorer, nor Lydia after Chloe came, Lydia, her peers outshining, Might match her own with Ilia's Roman fame. Now Chloe is my treasure, Whose voice, whose touch, can make sweet music flow:

11For her I'd die with pleasure, Would Fate but spare the dear survivor so. I love my own fond lover, Young Calais, son of Thurian Ornytus: For him I'd die twice over,

16Would Fate but spare the sweet survivor thus. What now, if Love returning Should pair us 'neath his brazen yoke once more, And, bright-hair'd Chloe spurning, Horace to off-cast Lydia ope his door?

21Though he is fairer, milder, Than starlight, you lighter than bark of tree, Than stormy Hadria wilder, With you to live, to die, were bliss for me.

Book 3, Poem 10

1Ah Lyce! though your drink were Tanais, Your husband some rude savage, you would weep To leave me shivering, on a night like this, Where storms their watches keep. Hark! how your door is creaking! how the grove

6In your fair courtyard, while the wild winds blow, Wails in accord! with what transparence Jove Is glazing the driven snow! Cease that proud temper: Venus loves it not: The rope may break, the wheel may backward turn:

11Begetting you, no Tuscan sire begot Penelope the stern. O, though no gift, no “prevalence of prayer,” Nor lovers' paleness deep as violet, Nor husband, smit with a Pierian fair,

16Move you, have pity yet! O harder e'en than toughest heart of oak, Deafer than uncharm'd snake to suppliant moans! This side, I warn you, will not always brook Rain-water and cold stones.

Book 3, Poem 11

1Come, Mercury, by whose minstrel spell Amphion raised the Theban stones, Come, with thy seven sweet strings, my shell, Thy “diverse tones,” Nor vocal once nor pleasant, now

6To rich man's board and temple dear: Put forth thy power, till Lyde bow Her stubborn ear. She, like a three-year colt unbroke, Is frisking o'er the spacious plain,

11Too shy to bear a lover's yoke, A husband's rein. The wood, the tiger, at thy call Have follow'd: thou caust rivers stay: The monstrous guard of Pluto's hall

16To thee gave way, Grim Cerberus, round whose Gorgon head A hundred snakes are hissing death, Whose triple jaws black venom shed, And sickening breath.

21Ixion too and Tityos smooth'd Their rugged brows: the urn stood dry One hour, while Danaus' maids were sooth'd With minstrelsy. Let Lyde hear those maidens' guilt,

26Their famous doom, the ceaseless drain Of outpour'd water, ever spilt, And all the pain Reserved for sinners, e'en when dead: Those impious hands, (could crime do more?)

31Those impious hands had hearts to shed Their bridegrooms' gore! One only, true to Hymen's flame, Was traitress to her sire forsworn: That splendid falsehood lights her name

36Through times unborn. “Wake!” to her youthful spouse she cried, “Wake! or you yet may sleep too well: Fly—from the father of your bride, Her sisters fell:

41They, as she-lions bullocks rend, Tear each her victim: I, less hard Than these, will slay you not, poor friend, Nor hold in ward: Me let my sire in fetters lay

46For mercy to my husband shown: Me let him ship far hence away, To climes unknown. Go; speed your flight o'er land and wave, While Night and Venus shield you; go

51Be blest: and on my tomb engrave This tale of woe.”

Book 3, Poem 12

1How 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;

6It 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,

11He can aim and he can hit them; he can steal upon the boar, As it couches in the thicket unaware.

Book 3, Poem 13

1Bandusia's fount, in clearness crystalline, O worthy of the wine, the flowers we vow! Tomorrow shall be thine A kid, whose crescent brow Is sprouting all for love and victory.

6In 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

11To 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

16Thy babbling wavelets spring.

Book 3, Poem 14

1Our 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

6Must thank the gods that shield from death; His sister too:—let matrons wear The suppliant wreath For daughters and for sons restored: Ye youths and damsels newly wed,

11Let decent awe restrain each word Best left unsaid. This day, true holyday to me, Shall banish care: I will not fear Rude broils or bloody death to see,

16While 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.

21And bid Neaera 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,

26When hair is white and leaves are sere: How had I fired in life's warm May, In Plancus' year!

Book 3, Poem 15

1Wife 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,

6And 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:

11Nothus' 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,.

16Nor wither'd lips with emptied wine-jars suit.

Book 3, Poem 16

1Full 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

6The jealous warder of that close stronghold: The way, they knew, must soon be smooth and plain When gods could change to gold. Gold, gold can pass the tyrant's sentinel, Can shiver rocks with more resistless blow

11Than 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

16Rude 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.

21He that denies himself shall gain the more From bounteous Heaven. I strip me of my pride, Desert the rich man's standard, and pass o'er To bare Contentment's side, More proud as lord of what the great despise

26Than if the wheat thresh'd on Apulia's floor I hoarded 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,

31Pass, 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 god of wine In Formian jar, nor in Gaul's pasture-field

36The 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,

41Than 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.

Book 3, Poem 17

1Aelius, 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,

6Who stretch'd his sway o'er Formiae, And Liris, whose still waters swim Whore green Marica skirts the sea, Lord of broad realms), an eastern gale Will blow to-morrow, and bestrew

11The shore with weeds, with leaves the vale, If rain's old prophet tell me true, The raven. Gather, while 'tis fine, Your wood; tomorrow shall be gay With smoking pig and streaming wine,

16And lord and slave keep holyday.

Book 3, Poem 18

1O wont the flying Nymphs to woo, Good Faunus, through my sunny farm Pass gently, gently pass, nor do My younglings harm. Each year, thou know'st, a kid must die

6For 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 grass the cattle play;

11The 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,

16His ancient foe.

Book 3, Poem 19

1What the time from Inachus To Codrus, who in patriot battle fell, Who were sprung from Aeacus, And how men fought at Ilion,—this you tell. What the wines of Chios cost,

6Who with due heat our water can allay, What the hour, and who the host To give us house-room,—this you will not say Ho, there! wine to moonrise, wine To midnight, wine to our new augur too!

11Nine to three or three to nine, As each man pleases, makes proportion true. Who the uneven Muses loves, Will fire his dizzy brain with three times three; Three once told the Grace approves;

16She with her two bright sisters, gay and free, Shrinks, as maiden should, from strife: But I'm for madness. What has dull'd the fire Of the Berecyntian fife? Why hangs the flute in silence with the lyre?

21Out on niggard-handed boys! Rain showers of roses; let old Lycus hear, Envious churl, our senseless noise, And she, our neighbour, his ill-sorted fere. You with your bright clustering hair,

26Your beauty, Telephus, like evening's sky, Rhoda loves, as young, as fair; I for my Glycera slowly, slowly die.

Book 3, Poem 21

1O born in Manlius' year with me, Whate'er you bring us, plaint or jest, Or passion and wild revelry, Or, like a gentle wine-jar, rest; Howe'er men call your Massic juice,

6Its broaching claims a festal day; Come then; Corvinus bids produce A mellower wine, and I obey. Though steep'd in all Socratic lore He will not slight you; do not fear.

11They say old Cato o'er and o'er With wine his honest heart would cheer. Tough wits to your mild torture yield Their treasures; you unlock the soul Of wisdom and its stores conceal'd,

16Arm'd with Lyaeus' kind control. 'Tis yours the drooping heart to heal; Your strength uplifts the poor man's horn; Inspired by you, the soldier's steel, The monarch's crown, he laughs to scorn,

21Liber and Venus, wills she so, And sister Graces, ne'er unknit, And living lamps shall see you flow Till stars before the sunrise flit.

Book 3, Poem 22

1Guardian of hill and woodland, Maid,

2Who to young wives in childbirth's hour

3Thrice call'd, vouchsafest sovereign aid,

4O three-form'd power!

5This pine that shades my cot be thine;

6Here will I slay, as years come round,

7A youngling boar, whose tusks design

8The side-long wound.

Book 3, Poem 23

1If, Phidyle, your hands you lift To heaven, as each new moon is born, Soothing your Lares with the gift Of slaughter'd swine, and spice, and corn, Ne'er shall Scirocco's bane assail

6Your vines, nor mildew blast your wheat. Ne'er shall your tender younglings fail In autumn, when the fruits are sweet. The destined victim 'mid the snows Of Algidus in oakwoods fed,

11Or where the Alban herbage grows, Shall dye the pontiff's axes red; No need of butcher'd sheep for you To make your homely prayers prevail; Give but your little gods their due,

16The rosemary twined with myrtle frail. The sprinkled salt, the votive meal, As soon their favour will regain, Let but the hand be pure and leal, As all the pomp of heifers slain.

Book 3, Poem 24

1Though your buried wealth surpass The unsunn'd gold of Ind or Araby, Though with many a ponderous mass You crowd the Tuscan and Apulian sea, Let Necessity but drive

6Her wedge of adamant into that proud head, Vainly battling will you strive To 'scape Death's noose, or rid your soul of dread. Better life the Scythians lead, Trailing on waggon wheels their wandering home,

11Or the hardy Getan breed, As o'er their vast unmeasured steppes they roam; Free the crops that bless their soil; Their tillage wearies after one year's space; Each in turn fulfils his toil;

16His period o'er, another takes his place. There the step-dame keeps her hand From guilty plots, from blood of orphans clean; There no downed wives command Their feeble lords, or on adulterers lean.

21Theirs are dowries not of gold, Their parents' worth, their own pure chastity, True to one, to others cold; They dare not sin, or, if they dare, they die. O, whoe'er has heart and head

26To stay our plague of blood, our civic brawls, Would he that his name be read “Father of Rome” on lofty pedestals, Let him chain this lawless will, And be our children's hero! cursed spite!

31Living worth we envy still, Then seek it with strain'd eyes, when snatch'd from sight. What can sad laments avail Unless sharp justice kill the taint of sin? What can laws, that needs must fail

36Shorn of the aid of manners form'd within, If the merchant turns not back From the fierce heats that round the tropic glow, Turns not from the regions black With northern winds, and hard with frozen snow;

41Sailors override the wave, While guilty poverty, more fear'd than vice. Bids us crime and suffering brave, And shuns the ascent of virtue's precipice? Let the Capitolian fane,

46The favour'd goal of yon vociferous crowd, Aye, or let the nearest main Receive our gold, our jewels rich and proud: Slay we thus the cause of crime, If yet we would repent and choose the good:

51Ours the task to take in time This baleful lust, and crush it in the bud. Ours to mould our weakling sons To nobler sentiment and manlier deed: Now the noble's first-born shuns

56The perilous chase, nor learns to sit his steed: Set him to the unlawful dice, Or Grecian hoop, how skilfully he plays! While his sire, mature in vice, A friend, a partner, or a guest betrays,

61Hurrying, for an heir so base, To gather riches. Money, root of ill, Doubt it not, still grows apace: Yet the scant heap has somewhat lacking still.

Book 3, Poem 25

1Whither, Bacchus, tear'st thou me. FiIl'd with thy strength? What dens, what forests these, Thus in wildering race I see? What cave shall hearken to my melodies, Tuned to tell of Caesar's praise

6And throne him high the heavenly ranks among? Sweet and strange shall be my lays, A tale till now by poet voice unsung. As the Evian on the height, Roused from her sleep, looks wonderingly abroad,

11Looks on Thrace with snow-drifts white, And Rhodope by barbarous footstep trod, So my truant eyes admire The banks, the desolate forests. O great King Who the Naiads dost inspire,

16And Bacchants, strong from earth huge trees to wring! Not a lowly strain is mine, No mere man's utterance. O, 'tis venture sweet Thee to follow, God of wine, Making the vine-branch round thy temples meet!

Book 3, Poem 26

1For ladies' love I late was fit, And good success my warfare blest, But now my arms, my lyre I quit, And hang them up to rust or rest. Here, where arising from the sea

6Stands Venus, lay the load at last, Links, crowbars, and artillery, Threatening all doors that dared be fast. O Goddess! Cyprus owns thy sway, And Memphis, far from Thracian snow;

11Raise high thy lash, and deal me, pray, That haughty Chloe just one blow!

Book 3, Poem 27

1When guilt goes forth, let lapwings shrill, And dogs and foxes great with young, And wolves from far Lanuvian hill, Give clamorous tongue: Across the roadway dart the snake,

6Frightening, like arrow loosed from string, The horses. I, for friendship's sake, Watching each wing, Ere to his haunt, the stagnant marsh, The harbinger of tempest flies,

11Will call the raven, croaking harsh, From eastern skies. Farewell!—and wheresoe'er you go, My Galatea, think of me: Let lefthand pie and roving crow

16Still leave you free. But mark with what a front of fear Orion lowers. Ah! well I know How Hadria glooms, how falsely clear The west-winds blow.

21Let foemen's wives and children feel The gathering south-wind's angry roar, The black wave's crash, the thunder-peal, The quivering shore. So to the bull Europa gave

26Her beauteous form, and when she saw The monstrous deep, the yawning grave, Grew pale with awe. That morn of meadow-flowers she thought, Weaving a crown the nymphs to please:

31That gloomy night she look'd on nought But stars and seas. Then, as in hundred-citied Crete She landed,—“O my sire!” she said, “O childly duty! passion's heat

36Has struck thee dead. Whence came I? death, for maiden's shame, Were little. Do I wake to weep My sin? or am I pure of blame, And is it sleep

41From dreamland brings a form to trick My senses? Which was best? to go Over the long, long waves, or pick The flowers in blow? O, were that monster made my prize,

46How would I strive to wound that brow, How tear those horns, my frantic eyes Adored but now! Shameless I left my father's home; Shameless I cheat the expectant grave;

51O heaven, that naked I might roam In lions' cave! Now, ere decay my bloom devour Or thin the richness of my blood, Fain would I fall in youth's first flower,

56The tigers' food. Hark! 'tis my father—‘Worthless one! What, yet alive? the oak is nigh. 'Twas well you kept your maiden zone, The noose to tie.

61Or if your choice be that rude pike, New barb'd with death, leap down and ask The wind to bear you. Would you like The bondmaid's task, You, child of kings, a master's toy,

66A mistress' slave?’” Beside her, lo! Stood Venus smiling, and her boy With unstrung bow. Then, when her laughter ceased, “Have done With fume and fret,” she cried, “my fair;

71That odious bull will give you soon His horns to tear. You know not you are Jove's own dame: Away with sobbing; be resign'd To greatness: you shall give your name

76To half mankind.”

Book 3, Poem 28

1Neptune's feast-day! what should man Think first of doing? Lyde mine, be bold, Broach the treasured Caecuban, And batter Wisdom in her own stronghold. Now the noon has pass'd the full,

6Yet sure you deem swift Time has made a halt, Tardy as you are to pull Old Bibulus' wine-jar from its sleepy vault. I will take my turn and sing Neptune and Nereus' train with locks of green;

11You shall warble to the string Latona and her Cynthia's arrowy sheen. Hers our latest song, who sways Cnidos and Cyclads, and to Paphos goes With her swans, on holydays;

16Night too shall claim the homage music owes.

Book 3, Poem 29

1Heir of Tyrrhenian kings, for you A mellow cask, unbroach'd as yet, Maecenas mine, and roses new, And fresh-drawn oil your locks to wet, Are waiting here. Delay not still,

6Nor gaze on Tibur, never dried, And sloping Aesule, and the hill Of Telegon the parricide. O leave that pomp that can but tire, Those piles, among the clouds at home;

11Cease for a moment to admire The smoke, the wealth, the noise of Rome! In change e'en luxury finds a zest: The poor man's supper, neat, but spare, With no gay couch to seat the guest,

16Has smooth'd the rugged brow of care. Now glows the Ethiop maiden's sire; Now Procyon rages all ablaze; The Lion maddens in his ire, As suns bring back the sultry days:

21The shepherd with his weary sheep Seeks out the streamlet and the trees, Silvanus' lair: the still banks sleep Untroubled by the wandering breeze. You ponder on imperial schemes,

26And o'er the city's danger brood: Bactrian and Serian haunt your dreams, And Tanais, toss'd by inward feud. The issue of the time to be Heaven wisely hides in blackest night,

31And laughs, should man's anxiety Transgress the bounds of man's short sight. Control the present: all beside Flows like a river seaward borne, Now rolling on its placid tide,

36Now whirling massy trunks uptorn, And waveworn crags, and farms, and stock, In chaos blent, while hill and wood Reverberate to the enormous shock, When savage rains the tranquil flood

41Have stirr'd to madness. Happy he, Self-centred, who each night can say, “My life is lived: the morn may see A clouded or a sunny day: That rests with Jove: but what is gone,

46He will not, cannot turn to nought; Nor cancel, as a thing undone, What once the flying hour has brought.” Fortune, who loves her cruel game, Still bent upon some heartless whim,

51Shifts her caresses, fickle dame, Now kind to me, and now to him: She stays; 'tis well: but let her shake Those wings, her presents I resign, Cloak me in native worth, and take

56Chaste Poverty undower'd for mine. Though storms around my vessel rave, I will not fall to craven prayers, Nor bargain by my vows to save My Cyprian and Sidonian wares,

61Else added to the insatiate main. Then through the wild Aegean roar The breezes and the Brethren Twain Shall waft my little boat ashore.

Book 3, Poem 30

1And now 'tis done: more durable than brass My monument shall be, and raise its head O'er royal pyramids: it shall not dread Corroding rain or angry Boreas, Nor the long lapse of immemorial time.

6I shall not wholly die: large residue Shall 'scape the queen of funerals. Ever new My after fame shall grow, while pontiffs climb With silent maids the Capitolian height. “Born,” men will say, “where Aufidus is loud,

11Where Daunus, scant of streams, beneath him bow'd The rustic tribes, from dimness he wax'd bright, First of his race to wed the Aeolian lay To notes of Italy.” Put glory on, My own Melpomene, by genius won,

16And crown me of thy grace with Delphic bay.

Book 4, Poem 1

1Yet again thou wak'st the flame That long had slumber'd! Spare me, Venus, spare! Trust me, I am not the same As in the reign of Cinara, kind and fair. Cease thy softening spells to prove

6On this old heart, by fifty years made hard, Cruel Mother of sweet Love! Haste, where gay youth solicits thy regard. With thy purple cygnets fly To Paullus' door, a seasonable guest;

11There within hold revelry, There light thy flame in that congenial breast. He, with birth and beauty graced, The trembling client's champion, ne'er tongue-tied, Master of each manly taste,

16Shall bear thy conquering banners far and wide. Let him smile in triumph gay, True heart, victorious over lavish hand, By the Alban lake that day 'Neath citron roof all marble shalt thou stand:

21Incense there and fragrant spice With odorous fumes thy nostrils shall salute; Blended notes thine ear entice, The lyre, the pipe, the Berecyntine flute: Graceful youths and maidens bright

26Shall twice a day thy tuneful praise resound, While their feet, so fair and white, In Salian measure three times beat the ground. I can relish love no more, Nor flattering hopes that tell me hearts are true,

31Nor the revel's loud uproar, Nor fresh-wreathed flowerets, bathed in vernal dew. Ah! but why, my Ligurine, Steal trickling tear-drops down my wasted cheek? Wherefore halts this tongue of mine,

36So eloquent once, so faltering now and weak? Now I hold you in my chain, And clasp you close, all in a nightly dream; Now, still dreaming, o'er the plain I chase you; now, ah cruel! down the stream.

Book 4, Poem 2

1Who fain at Pindar's flight would aim, On waxen wings, Iulus, he Soars heavenward, doom'd to give his name To some new sea. Pindar, like torrent from the steep

6Which, swollen with rain, its banks o'erflows, With mouth unfathomably deep, Foams, thunders, glows, All worthy of Apollo's bay, Whether in dithyrambic roll

11Pouring new words he burst away Beyond control, Or gods and god-born heroes tell, Whose arm with righteous death could tame Grim Centaurs, tame Chimaeras fell,

16Out-breathing flame, Or bid the boxer or the steed In deathless pride of victory live, And dower them with a nobler meed Than sculptors give,

21Or mourn the bridegroom early torn From his young bride, and set on high Strength, courage, virtue's golden morn, Too good to die. Antonius! yes, the winds blow free,

26When Dirce's swan ascends the skies, To waft him. I, like Matine bee, In act and guise, That culls its sweets through toilsome hours, Am roaming Tibur's banks along,

31And fashioning with puny powers A laboured song. Your Muse shall sing in loftier strain How Caesar climbs the sacred height, The fierce Sygambrians in his train,

36With laurel dight, Than whom the Fates ne'er gave mankind A richer treasure or more dear, Nor shall, though earth again should find The golden year.

41Your Muse shall tell of public sports, And holyday, and votive feast, For Caesar's sake, and brawling courts Where strife has ceased. Then, if my voice can aught avail,

46Grateful for him our prayers have won, My song shall echo, “Hail, all hail, Auspicious Sun!” There as you move, “Ho! Triumph, ho! Great Triumph!” once and yet again

51All Rome shall cry, and spices strow Before your train. Ten bulls, ten kine, your debt discharge: A calf new-wean'd from parent cow, Battening on pastures rich and large,

56Shall quit my vow. Like moon just dawning on the night The crescent honours of his head; One dapple spot of snowy white, The rest all red.

Book 4, Poem 3

1He whom thou, Melpomene, Hast welcomed with thy smile, in life arriving, Ne'er by boxer's skill shall be Renown'd abroad, for Isthmian mastery striving; Him shall never fiery steed

6Draw in Achaean car a conqueror seated; Him shall never martial deed Show, crown'd with bay, after proud kings defeated, Climbing Capitolian steep: But the cool streams that make green Tibur flourish,

11And the tangled forest deep, On soft Aeolian airs his fame shall nourish. Rome, of cities first and best, Deigns by her sons' according voice to hail me Fellow-bard of poets blest,

16And faint and fainter envy's growls assail me. Goddess, whose Pierian art The lyre's sweet sounds can modulate and measure, Who to dumb fish canst impart The music of the swan, if such thy pleasure:

21O, 'tis all of thy dear grace That every finger points me out in going Lyrist of the Roman race; Breath, power to charm, if mine, are thy bestowing!

Book 4, Poem 4

1E'en as the lightning's minister, Whom Jove o'er all the feather'd breed Made sovereign, having proved him sure Erewhile on auburn Ganymede; Stirr'd by warm youth and inborn power,

6He quits the nest with timorous wing, For winter's storms have ceased to lower, And zephyrs of returuing spring Tempt him to launch on unknown skies Next on the fold he stoops downright;

11Last on resisting serpents flies, Athirst for foray and for flight: As tender kidling on the grass Espies, uplooking from her food, A lion's whelp, and knows, alas!

16Those new-set teeth shall drink her blood: So look'd the Raetian mountaineers On Drusus:—whence in every field They learn'd through immemorial years The Amazonian axe to wield,

21I ask not now: not all of truth We seekers find: enough to know The wisdom of the princely youth Has taught our erst victorious foe What prowess dwells in boyish hearts

26Rear'd in the shrine of a pure home, What strength Augustus' love imparts To Nero's seed, the hope of Rome. Good sons and brave good sires approve: Strong bullocks, fiery colts, attest

31Their fathers' worth, nor weakling dove Is hatch'd in savage eagle's nest. But care draws forth the power within, And cultured minds are strong for good: Let manners fail, the plague of sin

36Taints e'en the course of gentle blood. How great thy debt to Nero's race, O Rome, let red Metaurus say, Slain Hasdrubal, and victory's grace First granted on that glorious day

41Which chased the clouds, and show'd the sun, When Hannibal o'er Italy Ran, as swift flames o'er pine-woods run, Or Eurus o'er Sicilia's sea. Henceforth, by fortune aiding toil,

46Rome's prowess grew: her fanes, laid waste By Punic sacrilege and spoil, Beheld at length their gods replaced. Then the false Libyan own'd his doom:— “Weak deer, the wolves' predestined prey,

51Blindly we rush on foes, from whom 'Twere triumph won to steal away. That race which, strong from Ilion's fires, Its gods, on Tuscan waters tost, Its sons, its venerable sires,

56Bore to Ausonia's citied coast; That race, like oak by axes shorn On Algidus with dark leaves rife, Laughs carnage, havoc, all to scorn, And draws new spirit from the knife.

61Not the lopp'd Hydra task'd so sore Alcides, chafing at the foil: No pest so fell was born of yore From Colchian or from Theban soil. Plunged in the deep, it mounts to sight

66More splendid: grappled, it will quell Unbroken powers, and fight a fight Whose story widow'd wives shall tell. No heralds shall my deeds proclaim To Carthage now: lost, lost is all:

71A nation's hope, a nation's name, They died with dying Hasdrubal.” What will not Claudian hands achieve? Jove's favour is their guiding star, And watchful potencies unweave

76For them the tangled paths of war.

Book 4, Poem 5

1Best guardian of Rome's people, dearest boon Of a kind Heaven, thou lingerest all too long: Thou bad'st thy senate look to meet thee soon: Do not thy promise wrong. Restore, dear chief, the light thou tak'st away:

6Ah! when, like spring, that gracious mien of thine Dawns on thy Rome, more gently glides the day, And suns serener shine. See her whose darling child a long year past Has dwelt beyond the wild Carpathian foam;

11That long year o'er, the envious southern blast Still bars him from his home: Weeping and praying to the shore she clings, Nor ever thence her straining eyesight turns: So, smit by loyal passion's restless stings,

16Rome for her Caesar yearns. In safety range the cattle o'er the mead: Sweet Peace, soft Plenty, swell the golden grain: O'er unvex'd seas the sailors blithely speed: Fair Honour shrinks from stain:

21No guilty lusts the shrine of home defile: Cleansed is the hand without, the heart within: The father's features in his children smile Swift vengeance follows sin. Who fears the Parthian or the Scythian horde,

26Or the rank growth that German forests yield, While Caesar lives? who trembles at the sword The fierce Iberians wield? In his own hills each labours down the day, Teaching the vine to clasp the widow'd tree:

31Then to his cups again, where, feasting gay, He hails his god in thee. A household power, adored with prayers and wine, Thou reign'st auspicious o'er his hour of ease: Thus grateful Greece her Castor made divine,

36And her great Hercules. Ah! be it thine long holydays to give To thy Hesperia! thus, dear chief, we pray At sober sunrise; thus at mellow eve, When ocean hides the day.

Book 4, Poem 6

1Thou who didst make thy vengeful might To Niobe and Tityos known, And Peleus' son, when Troy's tall height Was nigh his own, Victorious else, for thee no peer,

6Though, strong in his sea-parent's power, He shook with that tremendous spear The Dardan tower. He, like a pine by axes sped, Or cypress sway'd by angry gust,

11Fell ruining, and laid his head In Trojan dust. Not his to lie in covert pent Of the false steed, and sudden fall On Priam's ill-starr'd merriment

16In bower and hail: His ruthless arm in broad bare day The infant from the breast had torn, Nay, given to flame, ah, well a way! The babe unborn:

21But, won by Venus' voice and thine, Relenting Jove Aeneas will'd With other omens more benign New walls to build. Sweet tuner of the Grecian lyre,

26Whose locks are laved in Xanthus' dews, Blooming Agyieus! help, inspire My Daunian Muse! 'Tis Phoebus, Phoebus gifts my tongue With minstrel art and minstrel fires:

31Come, noble youths and maidens sprung From noble sires, Blest in your Dian's guardian smile, Whose shafts the flying silvans stay, Come, foot the Lesbian measure, while

36The lyre I play: Sing of Latona's glorious boy, Sing of night's queen with crescent horn, Who wings the fleeting months with joy, And swells the corn.

41And happy brides shall say, “'Twas mine, When years the cyclic season brought, To chant the festal hymn divine By Horace taught.”

Book 4, Poem 7

1The snow is fled: the trees their leaves put on, The fields their green: Earth owns the change, and rivers lessening run Their banks between. Naked the Nymphs and Graces in the meads

6The dance essay: “No 'scaping death” proclaims the year, that speeds This sweet spring day. Frosts yield to zephyrs; Summer drives out Spring, To vanish, when

11Rich Autumn sheds his fruits; round wheels the ring,— Winter again! Yet the swift moons repair Heaven's detriment: We, soon as thrust Where good Aeneas, Tullus, Ancus went,

16What are we? dust. Can Hope assure you one more day to live From powers above? You rescue from your heir whate'er you give The self you love.

21When life is o'er, and Minos has rehearsed The grand last doom, Not birth, nor eloquence, nor worth, shall burst Torquatus' tomb. Not Dian's self can chaste Hippolytus

26To life recall, Nor Theseus free his loved Pirithous From Lethe's thrall.

Book 4, Poem 8

1Ah Censorinus! to my comrades true Rich cups, rare bronzes, gladly would I send: Choice tripods from Olympia on each friend Would I confer, choicer on none than you, Had but my fate such gems of art bestow'd

6As cunning Scopas or Parrhasius wrought, This with the brush, that with the chisel taught To image now a mortal, now a god. But these are not my riches: your desire Such luxury craves not, and your means disdain:

11A poet's strain you love; a poet's strain Accept, and learn the value of the lyre. Not public gravings on a marble base, Whence comes a second life to men of might E'en in the tomb: not Hannibal's swift flight,

16Nor those fierce threats flung back into his face, Not impious Carthage in its last red blaze, In clearer light sets forth his spotless fame, Who from crush'd Afric took away—a name, Than rude Calabria's tributary lays.

21Let silence hide the good your hand has wrought, Farewell, reward! Had blank oblivion's power Dimm'd the bright deeds of Romulus, at this hour, Despite his sire and mother, he were nought. Thus Aeacus has 'scaped the Stygian wave,

26By grace of poets and their silver tongue, Henceforth to live the happy isles among. No, trust the Muse: she opes the good man's grave, And lifts him to the gods. So Hercules, His labours o'er, sits at the board of Jove:

31So Tyndareus' offspring shine as stars above, Saving lorn vessels from the yawning seas: So Bacchus, with the vine-wreath round his hair, Gives prosperous issue to his votary's prayer.

Book 4, Poem 9

1Think not those strains can e'er expire, Which, cradled 'mid the echoing roar Of Aufidus, to Latium's lyre I sing with arts unknown before. Though Homer fill the foremost throne,

6Yet grave Stesichorus still can please, And fierce Alcaeus holds his own With Pindar and Simonides. The songs of Teos are not mute, And Sappho's love is breathing still:

11She told her secret to the lute, And yet its chords with passion thrill. Not Sparta's queen alone was fired By broider'd robe and braided tress, And all the splendours that attired

16Her lover's guilty loveliness: Not only Teucer to the field His arrows brought, nor Ilion Beneath a single conqueror reel'd: Not Crete's majestic lord alone,

21Or Sthenelus, earn'd the Muses' crown: Not Hector first for child and wife, Or brave Deiphobus, laid down The burden of a manly life. Before Atrides men were brave:

26But ah! oblivion, dark and long, Has lock'd them in a tearless grave, For lack of consecrating song. 'Twixt worth and baseness, lapp'd in death, What difference? You shall ne'er be dumb,

31While strains of mine have voice and breath: The dull neglect of days to come Those hard-won honours shall not blight: No, Lollius, no: a soul is yours, Clear-sighted, keen, alike upright

36When fortune smiles, and when she lowers: To greed and rapine still severe, Spurning the gain men find so sweet: A consul, not of one brief year, But oft as on the judgment-seat

41You bend the expedient to the right, Turn haughty eyes from bribes away, Or bear your banners through the fight, Scattering the foeman's firm array. The lord of boundless revenues,

46Salute not him as happy: no, Call him the happy, who can use The bounty that the gods bestow, Can bear the load of poverty, And tremble not at death, but sin:

51No recreant he when called to die In cause of country or of kin.

Book 4, Poem 11

1Here is a cask of Alban, more Than nine years old: here grows for you Green parsley, Phyllis, and good store Of ivy too (Wreathed ivy suits your hair, you know):

6The plate shines bright: the altar, strew'd With vervain, hungers for the flow Of lambkin's blood. There's stir among the serving folk; They bustle, bustle, boy and girl;

11The flickering flames send up the smoke In many a curl. But why, you ask, this special cheer? We celebrate the feast of Ides, Which April's month, to Venus dear,

16In twain divides. O, 'tis a day for reverence, E'en my own birthday scarce so dear, For my Maecenas counts from thence Each added year.

21'Tis Telephus that you'd bewitch: But he is of a high degree; Bound to a lady fair and rich, He is not free. O think of Phaethon half burn'd,

26And moderate your passion's greed: Think how Bellerophon was spurn'd By his wing'd steed. So learn to look for partners meet, Shun lofty things, nor raise your aims

31Above your fortune. Come then, sweet, My last of flames (For never shall another fair Enslave me), learn a tune, to sing With that dear voice: to music care

36Shall yield its sting.

Book 4, Poem 12

1The gales of Thrace, that hush the unquiet sea, Spring's comrades, on the bellying canvas blow: Clogg'd earth and brawling streams alike are free From winter's weight of snow. Wailing her Itys in that sad, sad strain,

6Builds the poor bird, reproach to after time Of Cecrops' house, for bloody vengeance ta'en On foul barbaric crime. The keepers of fat lambkins chant their loves To silvan reeds, all in the grassy lea,

11And pleasure Him who tends the flocks and groves Of dark-leaved Arcady. It is a thirsty season, Virgil mine: But would you taste the grape's Calenian juice, Client of noble youths, to earn your wine

16Some nard you must produce. A tiny box of nard shall bring to light The cask that in Sulpician cellar lies: O, it can give new hopes, so fresh and bright, And gladden gloomy eyes.

21You take the bait? then come without delay And bring your ware: be sure, 'tis not my plan To let you drain my liquor and not pay, As might some wealthy man. Come, quit those covetous thoughts, those knitted brows,

26Think on the last black embers, while you may, And be for once unwise. When time allows, 'Tis sweet the fool to play.

Book 4, Poem 13

1The gods have heard, the gods have heard my prayer; Yes, Lyce! you are growing old, and still You struggle to look fair; You drink, and dance, and trill Your songs to youthful Love, in accents weak

6With wine, and age, and passion. Youthful Love! He dwells in Chia's cheek, And hears her harp-strings move. Rude boy, he flies like lightning o'er the heath Past wither'd trees like you; you're wrinkled now;

11The white has left your teeth And settled on your brow. Your Coan silks, your jewels bright as stars, Ah no! they bring not back the days of old, In public calendars

16By flying Time enroll'd. Where now that beauty? where those movements? where That colour? what of her, of her is left, Who, breathing Love's own air, Me of myself bereft,

21Who reign'd in Cinara's stead, a fair, fair face, Queen of sweet arts? but Fate to Cinara gave A life of little space; And now she cheats the grave Of Lyce, spared to raven's length of days,

26That youth may see, with laughter and disgust, A fire-brand, once ablaze, Now smouldering in grey dust.

Book 4, Poem 14

1What honours can a grateful Rome, A grateful senate, Caesar, give To make thy worth through days to come Emblazon'd on our records live, Mightiest of chieftains whomsoe'er

6The sun beholds from heaven on high? They know thee now, thy strength in war, Those unsubdued Vindelici. Thine was the sword that Drusus drew, When on the Breunian hordes he fell,

11And storm'd the fierce Genaunian crew E'en in their Alpine citadel, And paid them back their debt twice told 'Twas then the elder Nero came To conflict, and in ruin roll'd

16Stout Raetian kernes of giant frame. O, 'twas a gallant sight to see The shocks that beat upon the brave Who chose to perish and be free! As south winds scourge the rebel wave

21When through rent clouds the Pleiads weep, So keen his force to smite, and smite The foe, or make his charger leap Through the red furnace of the fight. Thus Daunia's ancient river fares,

26Proud Aufidus, with bull-like horn, When swoln with choler he prepares A deluge for the fields of corn. So Claudius charged and overthrew The grim barbarian's mail-clad host,

31The foremost and the hindmost slew, And conquer'd all, and nothing lost. The force, the forethought, were thine own, Thine own the gods. The selfsame day When, port and palace open thrown,

36Low at thy footstool Egypt lay, That selfsame day, three lustres gone, Another victory to thine hand Was given; another field was won By grace of Caesar's high command.

41Thee Spanish tribes, unused to yield, Mede, Indian, Scyth that knows no home, Acknowledge, sword at once and shield Of Italy and queenly Rome. Ister to thee, and Tanais fleet,

46And Nile that will not tell his birth, To thee the monstrous seas that beat On Britain's coast, the end of earth, To thee the proud Iberians bow, And Gauls, that scorn from death to flee;

51The fierce Sygambrian bends his brow, And drops his arms to worship thee.

Book 4, Poem 15

1Of battles fought I fain had told, And conquer'd towns, when Phoebus smote His harp-string: “Sooth, 'twere over-bold. To tempt wide seas in that frail boat.” Thy age, great Caesar, has restored

6To squalid fields the plenteous grain, Given back to Rome's almighty Lord Our standards, torn from Parthian fane, Has closed Quirinian Janus' gate, Wild passion's erring walk controll'd,

11Heal'd the foul plague-spot of the state, And brought again the life of old, Life, by whose healthful power increased The glorious name of Latium spread To where the sun illumes the east

16From where he seeks his western bed. While Caesar rules, no civil strife Shall break our rest, nor violence rude, Nor rage, that whets the slaughtering knife And plunges wretched towns in feud.

21The sons of Danube shall not scorn The Julian edicts; no, nor they By Tanais' distant river horn, Nor Persia, Scythia, or Cathay. And we on feast and working-tide,

26While Bacchus' bounties freely flow, Our wives and children at our side, First paying Heaven the prayers we owe, Shall sing of chiefs whose deeds are done, As wont our sires, to flute or shell,

31And Troy, Anchises, and the son Of Venus on our tongues shall dwell.

Contents — 103 sections

1. Book 1, Poem 1
2. Book 1, Poem 2
3. Book 1, Poem 3
4. Book 1, Poem 4
5. Book 1, Poem 5
6. Book 1, Poem 6
7. Book 1, Poem 7
8. Book 1, Poem 8
9. Book 1, Poem 9
10. Book 1, Poem 10
11. Book 1, Poem 11
12. Book 1, Poem 12
13. Book 1, Poem 13
14. Book 1, Poem 14
15. Book 1, Poem 15
16. Book 1, Poem 16
17. Book 1, Poem 17
18. Book 1, Poem 18
19. Book 1, Poem 19
20. Book 1, Poem 20
21. Book 1, Poem 21
22. Book 1, Poem 22
23. Book 1, Poem 23
24. Book 1, Poem 24
25. Book 1, Poem 25
26. Book 1, Poem 26
27. Book 1, Poem 27
28. Book 1, Poem 28
29. Book 1, Poem 29
30. Book 1, Poem 30
31. Book 1, Poem 31
32. Book 1, Poem 32
33. Book 1, Poem 33
34. Book 1, Poem 34
35. Book 1, Poem 35
36. Book 1, Poem 36
37. Book 1, Poem 37
38. Book 1, Poem 38
39. Book 2, Poem 1
40. Book 2, Poem 2
41. Book 2, Poem 3
42. Book 2, Poem 4
43. Book 2, Poem 5
44. Book 2, Poem 6
45. Book 2, Poem 7
46. Book 2, Poem 8
47. Book 2, Poem 9
48. Book 2, Poem 10
49. Book 2, Poem 11
50. Book 2, Poem 12
51. Book 2, Poem 13
52. Book 2, Poem 14
53. Book 2, Poem 15
54. Book 2, Poem 16
55. Book 2, Poem 17
56. Book 2, Poem 18
57. Book 2, Poem 19
58. Book 2, Poem 20
59. Book 3, Poem 1
60. Book 3, Poem 2
61. Book 3, Poem 3
62. Book 3, Poem 4
63. Book 3, Poem 5
64. Book 3, Poem 6
65. Book 3, Poem 7
66. Book 3, Poem 8
67. Book 3, Poem 9
68. Book 3, Poem 10
69. Book 3, Poem 11
70. Book 3, Poem 12
71. Book 3, Poem 13
72. Book 3, Poem 14
73. Book 3, Poem 15
74. Book 3, Poem 16
75. Book 3, Poem 17
76. Book 3, Poem 18
77. Book 3, Poem 19
78. Book 3, Poem 20
79. Book 3, Poem 21
80. Book 3, Poem 22
81. Book 3, Poem 23
82. Book 3, Poem 24
83. Book 3, Poem 25
84. Book 3, Poem 26
85. Book 3, Poem 27
86. Book 3, Poem 28
87. Book 3, Poem 29
88. Book 3, Poem 30
89. Book 4, Poem 1
90. Book 4, Poem 2
91. Book 4, Poem 3
92. Book 4, Poem 4
93. Book 4, Poem 5
94. Book 4, Poem 6
95. Book 4, Poem 7
96. Book 4, Poem 8
97. Book 4, Poem 9
98. Book 4, Poem 10
99. Book 4, Poem 11
100. Book 4, Poem 12
101. Book 4, Poem 13
102. Book 4, Poem 14
103. Book 4, Poem 15

Book 1, Poem 1

1Maecenas atavis edite regibus, o et praesidium et dulce decus meum: sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum collegisse iuvat metaque fervidis evitata rotis palmaque nobilis

6terrarum dominos evehit ad deos; hunc, si mobilium turba Quiritium certat tergeminis tollere honoribus, illum, si proprio condidit horreo quidquid de Libycis verritur areis.

11gaudentem patrios findere sarculo agros Attalicis condicionibus numquam demoveas, ut trabe Cypria Myrtoum pavidus nauta secet mare. luctantem Icariis fluctibus Africum

16mercator metuens otium et oppidi laudat rura sui; mox reficit rates quassas indocilis pauperiem pati. est qui nec veteris pocula Massici nec partem solido demere de die

21spernit, nunc viridi membra sub arbuto stratus, nunc ad aquae lene caput sacrae. multos castra iuvant et lituo tubae permixtus sonitus bellaque matribus detestata. manet sub Iove frigido

26venator tenerae coniugis inmemor, seu visa est catulis cerva fidelibus seu rupit teretes Marsus aper plagas. me doctarum hederae praemia frontium dis miscent superis, me gelidum nemus

31Nympharumque leves cum Satyris chori secernunt populo, si neque tibias Euterpe cohibet nec Polyhymnia Lesboum refugit tendere barbiton. quodsi me lyricis vatibus inseres,

36sublimi feriam sidera vertice.

Book 1, Poem 2

1Iam satis terris nivis atque dirae grandinis misit pater et rubente dextera sacras iaculatus arcis terruit urbem, terruit gentis, grave ne rediret

6saeculum Pyrrhae nova monstra questae, omne cum Proteus pecus egit altos visere montis, piscium et summa genus haesit ulmo, nota quae sedes fuerat columbis,

11et superiecto pavidae natarunt aequore dammae. vidimus flavum Tiberim retortis litore Etrusco violenter undis ire deiectum monumenta regis

16templaque Vestae, Iliae dum se nimium querenti iactat ultorem, vagus et sinistra labitur ripa Iove non probante u- xorius amnis.

21audiet civis acuisse ferrum, quo graves Persae melius perirent, audiet pugnas vitio parentum rara iuventus. quem vocet divum populus ruentis

26imperi rebus? prece qua fatigent virgines sanctae minus audientem carmina Vestam? cui dabit partis scelus expiandi Iuppiter? tandem venias precamur

31nube candentis umeros amictus augur Apollo; sive tu mavis, Erycina ridens, quam Iocus circum volat et Cupido; sive neglectum genus et nepotes

36respicis, auctor heu nimis longo satiate ludo, quem iuvat clamor galeaeque leves acer et Marsi peditis cruentum voltus in hostem;

41sive mutata iuvenem figura ales in terris imitaris almae filius Maiae, patiens vocari Caesaris ultor: serus in caelum redeas diuque

46laetus intersis populo Quirini neve te nostris vitiis iniquum ocior aura tollat; hic magnos potius triumphos, hic ames dici pater atque princeps

51neu sinas Medos equitare inultos te duce, Caesar.

Book 1, Poem 3

1Sic te diva potens Cypri, sic fratres Helenae, lucida sidera, ventorumque regat pater obstrictis aliis praeter Iapyga, navis, quae tibi creditum

6debes Vergilium; finibus Atticis reddas incolumem precor et serves animae dimidium meae. illi robur et aes triplex circa pectus erat, qui fragilem truci

11conmisit pelago ratem primus: nec timuit praecipitem Africum decertantem Aquilonibus nec tristis Hyadas nec rabiem Noti, quo non arbiter Hadriae

16maior, tollere seu ponere volt freta; quem mortis timuit gradum qui siccis oculis monstra natantia, qui vidit mare turbidum et infamis scopulos Acroceraunia?

21nequiquam deus abscidit prudens oceano dissociabili terras, si tamen inpiae non tangenda rates transiliunt vada. audax omnia perpeti

26gens humana ruit per vetitum nefas: audax Iapeti genus ignem fraude mala gentibus intulit; post ignem aetheria domo subductum macies et nova febrium

31terris incubuit cohors semotique prius tarda necessitas Leti corripuit gradum; expertus vacuum Daedalus aera pennis non homini datis;

36perrupit Acheronta Herculeus labor. nil mortalibus ardui est: caelum ipsum petimus stultitia neque per nostrum patimur scelus iracunda Iovem ponere fulmina.

Book 1, Poem 4

1Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni trahuntque siccas machinae carinas ac neque iam stabulis gaudet pecus aut arator igni nec prata canis albicant pruinis. iam Cytherea choros ducit Venus imminente luna

6iunctaeque Nymphis Gratiae decentes alterno terram quatiunt pede, dum gravis Cyclopum Volcanus ardens visit officinas. nunc decet aut viridi nitidum caput impedire myrto aut flore, terrae quem ferunt solutae,

11nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucis, seu poscat agna sive malit haedo. pallida Mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas regumque turris. o beate Sesti, vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam;

16iam te premet nox fabulaeque Manes et domus exilis Plutonia; quo simul mearis, nec regna vini sortiere talis nec tenerum Lycidan mirabere, quo calet iuventus nunc omnis et mox virgines tepebunt.

Book 1, Poem 5

1Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa perfusus liquidis urget odoribus grato, Pyrrha, sub antro? cui flavam religas comam simplex munditiis? heu quotiens fidem

6mutatosque deos flebit et aspera nigris aequora ventis emirabitur insolens qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea, qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem

11sperat, nescius aurae fallacis. miseri, quibus intemptata nites. me tabula sacer votiva paries indicat uvida suspendisse potenti

16vestimenta maris deo.

Book 1, Poem 6

1Scriberis Vario fortis et hostium victor Maeonii carminis alite, quam rem cumque ferox navibus aut equis miles te duce gesserit. nos, Agrippa, neque haec dicere nec gravem

6Pelidae stomachum cedere nescii nec cursus duplicis per mare Ulixei nec saevam Pelopis domum conamur, tenues grandia, dum pudor inbellisque lyrae Musa potens vetat

11laudes egregii Caesaris et tuas culpa deterere ingeni. quis Martem tunica tectum adamantina digne scripserit aut pulvere Troico nigrum Merionen aut ope Palladis

16Tydiden superis parem? nos convivia, nos proelia virginum sectis in iuvenes unguibus acrium cantamus, vacui sive quid urimur, non praeter solitum leves.

Book 1, Poem 7

1Laudabunt alii claram Rhodon aut Mytilenen aut Epheson bimarisve Corinthi moenia vel Baccho Thebas vel Apolline Delphos insignis aut Thessala Tempe; sunt quibus unum opus est intactae Palladis urbem

6carmine perpetuo celebrare et undique decerptam fronti praeponere olivam; plurimus in Iunonis honorem aptum dicet equis Argos ditisque Mycenas: me nec tam patiens Lacedaemon

11nec tam Larisae percussit campus opimae quam domus Albuneae resonantis et praeceps Anio ac Tiburni lucus et uda mobilibus pomaria rivis. albus ut obscuro deterget nubila caelo

16saepe Notus neque parturit imbris perpetuos, sic tu sapiens finire memento tristitiam vitaeque labores molli, Plance, mero, seu te fulgentia signis castra tenent seu densa tenebit

21Tiburis umbra tui. Teucer Salamina patremque cum fugeret, tamen uda Lyaeo tempora populea fertur vinxisse corona sic tristis adfatus amicos: “quo nos cumque feret melior fortuna parente,

26ibimus—o socii comitesque, nil desperandum Teucro duce et auspice Teucro: certus enim promisit Apollo ambiguam tellure nova Salamina futuram. o fortes peioraque passi

31mecum saepe viri, nunc vino pellite curas; cras ingens iterabimus aequor.”

Book 1, Poem 8

1Lydia, dic per omnis te deos oro, Sybarin cur properes amando perdere, cur apricum oderit campum patiens pulveris atque solis, cur neque militaris

6inter aequalis equitet, Gallica nec lupatis temperet ora frenis? cur timet flavum Tiberim tangere? cur olivum sanguine viperino cautius vitat neque iam livida gestat armis

11bracchia saepe disco, saepe trans finem iaculo nobilis expedito? quid latet, ut marinae filium dicunt Thetidis sub lacrimosa Troiae funera, ne virilis

16cultus in caedem et Lycias proriperet catervas?

Book 1, Poem 9

1Vides ut alta stet nive candidum Soracte nec iam sustineant onus silvae laborantes geluque flumina constiterint acuto? dissolve frigus ligna super foco

6large reponens atque benignius deprome quadrimum Sabina, o Thaliarche, merum diota. permitte divis cetera, qui simul stravere ventos aequore fervido

11deproeliantis, nec cupressi nec veteres agitantur orni. quid sit futurum cras, fuge quaerere et quem Fors dierum cumque dabit, lucro adpone nec dulcis amores

16sperne puer neque tu choreas, donec virenti canities abest morosa. nunc et campus et areae lenesque sub noctem susurri conposita repetantur hora,

21nunc et latentis proditor intumo gratus puellae risus ab angulo pignusque dereptum lacertis aut digito male pertinaci.

Book 1, Poem 10

1Mercuri facunde nepos Atlantis, qui feros cultus hominum recentum voce formasti catus et decorae more palaestrae, te canam, magni Iovis et deorum

6nuntium curvaeque lyrae parentem, callidum, quidquid placuit, iocoso condere furto. te, boves olim nisi reddidisses per dolum amotas, puerum minaci

11voce dum terret, viduus pharetra risit Apollo. quin et Atridas duce te superbos Ilio dives Priamus relicto Thessalosque ignis et iniqua Troiae

16castra fefellit. tu pias laetis animas reponis sedibus virgaque levem coerces aurea turbam, superis deorum gratus et imis.

Book 1, Poem 11

1Tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi

2finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios

3temptaris numeros. ut melius, quidquid erit, pati.

4seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,

5quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare

6Tyrrhenum: sapias, vina liques et spatio brevi

7spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit invida

8aetas: carpe diem quam minimum credula postero.

Book 1, Poem 12

1Quem virum aut heroa lyra vel acri tibia sumis celebrare, Clio? quem deum? cuius recinet iocosa nomen imago aut in umbrosis Heliconis oris

6aut super Pindo gelidove in Haemo? unde vocalem temere insecutae Orphea silvae, arte materna rapidos morantem fluminum lapsus celeresque ventos,

11blandum et auritas fidibus canoris ducere quercus. quid prius dicam solitis parentis laudibus, qui res hominum ac deorum, qui mare ac terras variisque mundum

16temperat horis? unde nil maius generatur ipso nec viget quidquam simile aut secundum. proximos illi tamen occupavit Pallas honores

21proeliis audax. neque te silebo, Liber et saevis inimica virgo beluis, nec te, metuende certa Phoebe sagitta. dicam et Alciden puerosque Ledae,

26hunc equis, illum superare pugnis nobilem; quorum simul alba nautis stella refulsit, defluit saxis agitatus umor, concidunt venti fugiuntque nubes

31et minax, quia sic voluere, ponto unda recumbit. Romulum post hos prius an quietum Pompili regnum memorem, an superbos Tarquini fascis, dubito, an Catonis

36nobile letum: Regulum et Scauros animaeque magnae prodigum Paulum superante Poeno gratus insigni referam camena Fabriciumque.

41hunc et incomptis Curium capillis utilem bello tulit et Camillum saeva paupertas et avitus apto cum lare fundus. crescit occulto velut arbor aevo

46fama Marcelli; micat inter omnis Iulium sidus velut inter ignis luna minores. gentis humanae pater atque custos, orte Saturno, tibi cura magni

51Caesaris fatis data: tu secundo Caesare regnes. ille seu Parthos Latio imminentis egerit iusto domitos triumpho sive subiectos Orientis orae

56Seras et Indos, te minor latum reget aequos orbem: tu gravi curru quaties Olympum, tu parum castis inimica mittes fulmina lucis.

Book 1, Poem 13

1Cum tu, Lydia, Telephi cervicem roseam, cerea Telephi laudas bracchia, vae, meum fervens difficili bile tumet iecur. tum nec mens mihi nec color

6certa sede manet, umor et in genas furtim labitur arguens, quam lentis penitus macerer ignibus. uror, seu tibi candidos turparunt umeros inmodicae mero

11rixae sive puer furens inpressit memorem dente labris notam. non, si me satis audias, speres perpetuum dulcia barbare laedentem oscula, quae Venus

16quinta parte sui nectaris imbuit. felices ter et amplius quos inrupta tenet copula nec malis divolsus querimoniis suprema citius solvet amor die.

Book 1, Poem 14

1O navis, referent in mare te novi fluctus. o quid agis? fortiter occupa portum. nonne vides, ut nudum remigio latus et malus celeri saucius Africo

6antemnaeque gemant ac sine funibus vix durare carinae possint imperiosius aequor? non tibi sunt integra lintea, non di, quos iterum pressa voces malo.

11quamvis Pontica pinus, silvae filia nobilis, iactes et genus et nomen inutile: nil pictis timidus navita puppibus fidit. tu, nisi ventis

16debes ludibrium, cave. nuper sollicitum quae mihi taedium, nunc desiderium curaque non levis, interfusa nitentis vites aequora Cycladas.

Book 1, Poem 15

1Pastor cum traheret per freta navibus Idaeis Helenen perfidus hospitam, ingrato celeres obruit otio ventos ut caneret fera Nereus fata. “mala ducis avi domum

6quam multo repetet Graecia milite coniurata tuas rumpere nuptias et regnum Priami vetus. heu heu, quantus equis, quantus adest viris sudor, quanta moves funera Dardanae

11genti. iam galeam Pallas et aegida currusque et rabiem parat. nequiquam Veneris praesidio ferox pectes caesariem grataque feminis inbelli cithara carmina divides;

16nequiquam thalamo gravis hastas et calami spicula Cnosii vitabis strepitumque et celerem sequi Aiacem: tamen, heu serus, adulteros crines pulvere collines.

21non Laertiaden, exitium tuae genti, non Pylium Nestora respicis? urgent inpavidi te Salaminius Teucer, te Sthenelus, sciens pugnae sive opus est imperitare equis,

26non auriga piger. Merionen quoque nosces. ecce furit, te reperire atrox, Tydides melior patre: quem tu, cervus uti vallis in altera visum parte lupum graminis inmemor,

31sublimi fugies mollis anhelitu, non hoc pollicitus tuae. iracunda diem proferet Ilio matronisque Phrygum classis Achillei; post certas hiemes uret Achaicus

36ignis Iliacas domos.

Book 1, Poem 16

1O matre pulcra filia pulchrior, quem criminosis cumque voles modum pones iambis, sive flamma sive mari libet Hadriano. non Dindymene, non adytis quatit

6mentem sacerdotum incola Pythius, non Liber aeque, non acuta sic geminant Corybantes aera, tristes ut irae, quas neque Noricus deterret ensis nec mare naufragum

11nec saevos ignis nec tremendo Iuppiter ipse ruens tumultu. fertur Prometheus addere principi limo coactus particulam undique desectam et insani leonis

16vim stomacho adposuisse nostro. irae Thyesten exitio gravi stravere et altis urbibus ultimae stetere causae, cur perirent funditus inprimeretque muris

21hostile aratrum exercitus insolens. conpesce mentem: me quoque pectoris temptavit in dulci iuventa fervor et in celeres iambos misit furentem. nunc ego mitibus

26mutare quaero tristia, dum mihi fias recantatis amica opprobriis animumque reddas.

Book 1, Poem 17

1Velox amoenum saepe Lucretilem mutat Lycaeo Faunus et igneam defendit aestatem capellis usque meis pluviosque ventos. inpune tutum per nemus arbutos

6quaerunt latentis et thyma deviae olentis uxores mariti nec viridis metuunt colubras nec Martialis haediliae lupos, utcumque dulci, Tyndari, fistula

11valles et Usticae cubantis levia personuere saxa. di me tuentur, dis pietas mea et musa cordi est. hic tibi copia manabit ad plenum benigno

16ruris honorum opulenta cornu. hic in reducta valle Caniculae vitabis aestus et fide Teia dices laborantis in uno Penelopen vitreamque Circen;

21hic innocentis pocula Lesbii duces sub umbra nec Semeleius cum Marte confundet Thyoneus proelia nec metues protervum suspecta Cyrum, ne male dispari

26incontinentis iniciat manus et scindat haerentem coronam crinibus inmeritamque vestem.

Book 1, Poem 18

1Nullam, Vare, sacra vite prius severis arborem circa mite solum Tiburis et moenia Catili; siccis omnia nam dura deus proposuit neque mordaces aliter diffugiunt sollicitudines. quis post vina gravem militiam aut pauperiem crepat?

6quis non te potius, Bacche pater, teque, decens Venus? ac ne quis modici transiliat munera Liberi, Centaurea monet cum Lapithis rixa super mero debellata, monet Sithoniis non levis Euhius, cum fas atque nefas exiguo fine libidinum

11discernunt avidi. non ego te, candide Bassareu, invitum quatiam nec variis obsita frondibus sub divum rapiam. saeva tene cum Berecyntio cornu tympana, quae subsequitur caecus amor sui et tollens vacuum plus nimio gloria verticem

16arcanique fides prodiga, perlucidior vitro.

Book 1, Poem 19

1Mater saeva Cupidinum Thebanaeque iubet me Semelae puer et lasciva Licentia finitis animum reddere amoribus. urit me Glycerae nitor

6splendentis Pario marmore purius, urit grata protervitas et voltus nimium lubricus adspici. in me tota ruens Venus Cyprum deseruit nec patitur Scythas

11et versis animosum equis Parthum dicere nec quae nihil attinent. hic vivum mihi caespitem, hic verbenas, pueri, ponite turaque bimi cum patera meri:

16mactata veniet lenior hostia.

Book 1, Poem 20

1Vile potabis modicis Sabinum cantharis, Graeca quod ego ipse testa conditum levi, datus in theatro cum tibi plausus, clare Maecenas eques, ut paterni

6fluminis ripae simul et iocosa redderet laudes tibi Vaticani montis imago. Caecubum et prelo domitam Caleno tu bibes uvam: mea nec Falernae

11temperant vites neque Formiani pocula colles.

Book 1, Poem 21

1Dianam tenerae dicite virgines, intonsum pueri dicite Cynthium Latonamque supremo dilectam penitus Iovi. vos laetam fluviis et nemorum coma

6quaecumque aut gelido prominet Algido nigris aut Erymanthi silvis aut viridis Cragi; vos Tempe totidem tollite laudibus natalemque, mares, Delon Apollinis

11insignemque pharetra fraternaque umerum lyra. hic bellum lacrimosum, hic miseram famem pestemque a populo et principe Caesare in Persas atque Britannos

16vestra motus aget prece.

Book 1, Poem 22

1Integer vitae scelerisque purus non eget Mauris iaculis neque arcu nec venenatis gravida sagittis, Fusce, pharetra, sive per Syrtis iter aestuosas

6sive facturus per inhospitalem Caucasum vel quae loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes. namque me silva lupus in Sabina, dum meam canto Lalagen et ultra

11terminum curis vagor expeditis, fugit inermem; quale portentum neque militaris Daunias latis alit aesculetis nec Iubae tellus generat, leonum

16arida nutrix. pone me pigris ubi nulla campis arbor aestiva recreatur aura, quod latus mundi nebulae malusque Iuppiter urget;

21pone sub curru nimium propinqui solis in terra domibus negata: dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo, dulce loquentem.

Book 1, Poem 23

1Vitas hinnuleo me similis, Chloe, quaerenti pavidam montibus aviis matrem non sine vano aurarum et siluae metu. nam seu mobilibus veris inhorruit

6adventus foliis seu virides rubum dimovere lacertae, et corde et genibus tremit. atqui non ego te tigris ut aspera Gaetulusve leo frangere persequor:

11tandem desine matrem tempestiva sequi viro.

Book 1, Poem 24

1Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus tam cari capitis? praecipe lugubris cantus, Melpomene, cui liquidam pater vocem cum cithara dedit. ergo Quintilium perpetuus sopor

6urget? cui Pudor et Iustitiae soror incorrupta Fides nudaque Veritas quando ullum inveniet parem? multis ille bonis flebilis occidit, nulli flebilior quam tibi, Vergili.

11tu, frustra pius, heu non ita creditum poscis Quintilium deos. quid? si Threicio blandius Orpheo auditam moderere arboribus fidem, num vanae redeat sanguis imagini,

16quam virga semel horrida non lenis precibus fata recludere nigro conpulerit Mercurius gregi? durum: sed levius fit patientia quidquid corrigere est nefas.

Book 1, Poem 25

1Parcius iunctas quatiunt fenestras iactibus crebris iuvenes protervi nec tibi somnos adimunt amatque ianua limen, quae prius multum facilis movebat

6cardines. audis minus et minus iam: “me tuo longas pereunte noctes, Lydia, dormis?” invicem moechos anus arrogantis flebis in solo levis angiportu

11Thracio bacchante magis sub inter- lunia vento, cum tibi flagrans amor et libido, quae solet matres furiare equorum, saeviet circa iecur ulcerosum

16non sine questu, laeta quod pubes hedera virenti gaudeat pulla magis atque myrto, aridas frondes hiemis sodali dedicet Euro.

Book 1, Poem 26

1Musis amicus tristitiam et metus tradam protervis in mare Creticum portare ventis, quis sub Arcto rex gelidae metuatur orae, quid Tiridaten terreat, unice

6securus. o quae fontibus integris gaudes, apricos necte flores, necte meo Lamiae coronam, Piplei dulcis. nil sine te mei prosunt honores: hunc fidibus novis,

11hunc Lesbio sacrare plectro teque tuasque decet sorores.

Book 1, Poem 27

1Natis in usum laetitiae scyphis pugnare Thracum est: tollite barbarum morem verecundumque Bacchum sanguineis prohibete rixis. vino et lucernis Medus acinaces

6immane quantum discrepat: inpium lenite clamorem sodales et cubito remanete presso. voltis severi me quoque sumere partem Falerni? dicat Opuntiae

11frater Megillae, quo beatus volnere, qua pereat sagitta. cessat voluntas? non alia bibam mercede. quae te cumque domat Venus, non erubescendis adurit

16ignibus ingenuoque semper amore peccas. quidquid habes, age, depone tutis auribus. a miser, quanta laborabas Charybdi, digne puer meliore flamma.

21quae saga, quis te solvere Thessalis magus venenis, quis poterit deus? vix inligatum te triformi Pegasus expediet Chimaera.

Book 1, Poem 28

1Te maris et terrae numeroque carentis harenae mensorem cohibent, Archyta, pulveris exigui prope litus parva Matinum munera nec quicquam tibi prodest aerias temptasse domos animoque rotundum

6percurrisse polum morituro. occidit et Pelopis genitor, conviva deorum, Tithonusque remotus in auras et Iovis arcanis Minos admissus habentque Tartara Panthoiden iterum Orco

11demissum, quamvis clipeo Troiana refixo tempora testatus nihil ultra nervos atque cutem morti concesserat atrae, iudice te non sordidus auctor naturae verique. sed omnis una manet nox

16et calcanda semel via leti. dant alios Furiae torvo spectacula Marti, exitio est avidum mare nautis; mixta senum ac iuvenum densentur funera, nullum saeva caput Proserpina fugit:

21me quoque devexi rapidus comes Orionis Illyricis Notus obruit undis. at tu, nauta, vagae ne parce malignus harenae ossibus et capiti inhumato particulam dare: sic quodcumque minabitur Eurus

26fluctibus Hesperiis Venusinae plectantur silvae te sospite multaque merces unde potest tibi defluat aequo ab Iove Neptunoque sacri custode Tarenti. neglegis inmeritis nocituram

31postmodo te natis fraudem conmittere? fors et debita iura vicesque superbae te maneant ipsum: precibus non linquar inultis teque piacula nulla resolvent. quamquam festinas, non est mora longa; licebit

36iniecto ter pulvere curras.

Book 1, Poem 29

1Icci, beatis nunc Arabum invides gazis et acrem militiam paras non ante devictis Sabaeae regibus horribilique Medo nectis catenas? quae tibi virginum

6sponso necato barbara serviet, puer quis ex aula capillis ad cyathum statuetur unctis doctus sagittas tendere Sericas arcu paterno? quis neget arduis

11pronos relabi posse rivos montibus et Tiberim reverti, cum tu coemptos undique nobilis libros Panaeti Socraticam et domum mutare loricis Hiberis,

16pollicitus meliora, tendis?

Book 1, Poem 30

1O Venus regina Cnidi Paphique,

2sperne dilectam Cypron et vocantis

3ture te multo Glycerae decoram

4transfer in aedem.

5fervidus tecum puer et solutis

6Gratiae zonis properentque Nymphae

7et parum comis sine te Iuventas

8Mercuriusque.

Book 1, Poem 31

1Quid dedicatum poscit Apollinem vates? quid orat de patera novum fundens liquorem? non opimae Sardiniae segetes feracis, non aestuosae grata Calabriae

6armenta, non aurum aut ebur Indicum, non rura, quae Liris quieta mordet aqua taciturnus amnis. premant Calenam falce quibus dedit fortuna vitem, dives ut aureis

11mercator exsiccet culillis vina Syra reparata merce, dis carus ipsis, quippe ter et quater anno revisens aequor Atlanticum inpune. me pascunt olivae,

16me cichorea levesque malvae. frui paratis et valido mihi, Latoe, dones et precor integra cum mente nec turpem senectam degere nec cithara carentem.

Book 1, Poem 32

1Poscimur. si quid vacui sub umbra lusimus tecum, quod et hunc in annum vivat et pluris, age dic Latinum, barbite, carmen, Lesbio primum modulate civi,

6qui ferox bello tamen, inter arma sive iactatam religarat udo litore navim, Liberum et Musas Veneremque et illi semper haerentem puerum canebat

11et Lycum nigris oculis nigroque crine decorum. o decus Phoebi et dapibus supremi grata testudo Iovis, o laborum dulce lenimen, mihi cumque salve

16rite vocanti!

Book 1, Poem 33

1Albi, ne doleas plus nimio memor inmitis Glycerae neu miserabilis decantes elegos, cur tibi iunior laesa praeniteat fide. insignem tenui fronte Lycorida

6Cyri torret amor, Cyrus in asperam declinat Pholoen: sed prius Apulis iungentur capreae lupis quam turpi Pholoe peccet adultero. sic visum Veneri, cui placet inpares

11formas atque animos sub iuga aenea saevo mittere cum ioco. ipsum me melior cum peteret Venus, grata detinuit compede Myrtale libertina, fretis acrior Hadriae

16curvantis Calabros sinus.

Book 1, Poem 34

1Parcus deorum cultor et infrequens, insanientis dum sapientiae consultus erro, nunc retrorsum vela dare atque iterare cursus cogor relictos: namque Diespiter,

6igni corusco nubila dividens plerumque, per purum tonantis egit equos volucremque currum, quo bruta tellus et vaga flumina, quo Styx et invisi horrida Taenari

11sedes Atlanteusque finis concutitur. valet ima summis mutare et insignem attenuat deus obscura promens; hinc apicem rapax: Fortuna cum stridore acuto

16sustulit, hic posuisse gaudet.

Book 1, Poem 35

1O diva, gratum quae regis Antium, praesens vel imo tollere de gradu mortale corpus vel superbos vertere funeribus triumphos: te pauper ambit sollicita prece

6ruris colonus, te dominam aequoris quicumque Bithyna lacessit Carpathium pelagus carina; te Dacus asper, te profugi Scythae urbesque gentesque et Latium ferox

11regumque matres barbarorum et purpurei metuunt tyranni, iniurioso ne pede proruas stantem columnam neu populus frequens ad arma, cessantis ad arma

16concitet imperiumque frangat; te semper anteit saeva Necessitas, clavos trabalis et cuneos manu gestans aena nec severus uncus abest liquidumque plumbum;

21te Spes et albo rara Fides colit velata panno nec comitem abnegat, utcumque mutata potentis veste domos inimica linquis, at volgus infidum et meretrix retro

26periura cedit, diffugiunt cadis cum faece siccatis amici, ferre iugum pariter dolosi: serves iturum Caesarem in ultimos orbis Britannos et iuvenum recens

31examen Eois timendum partibus Oceanoque rubro. heu heu, cicatricum et sceleris pudet fratrumque. quid nos dura refugimus aetas? quid intactum nefasti

36liquimus? unde manum iuventus metu deorum continuit? quibus pepercit aris? o utinam nova incude diffingas retusum in Massagetas Arabasque ferrum.

Book 1, Poem 36

1Et ture et fidibus iuvat placare et vituli sanguine debito custodes Numidae deos, qui nunc Hesperia sospes ab ultima caris multa sodalibus,

6nulli plura tamen dividet oscula quam dulci Lamiae, memor actae non alio rege puertiae mutataeque simul togae. Cressa ne careat pulcra dies nota

11neu promptae modus amphorae neu morem in Salium sit requies pedum neu multi Damalis meri Bassum Threicia vincat amystide neu desint epulis rosae

16neu vivax apium neu breve lilium. omnes in Damalin putris deponent oculos nec Damalis novo divelletur adultero lascivis hederis ambitiosior.

Book 1, Poem 37

1Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero pulsanda tellus; nunc Saliaribus ornare pulvinar deorum tempus erat dapibus, sodales. antehac nefas depromere Caecubum

6cellis avitis, dum Capitolio regina dementis ruinas, funus et imperio parabat contaminato cum grege turpium morbo virorum quidlibet inpotens

11sperare fortunaque dulci ebria. sed minuit furorem vix una sospes navis ab ignibus mentemque lymphatam Mareotico redegit in veros timores

16Caesar ab Italia volantem remis adurgens, accipiter velut mollis columbas aut leporem citus venator in campis nivalis Haemoniae, daret ut catenis

21fatale monstrum. quae generosius perire quaerens nec muliebriter expavit ensem nec latentis classe cita reparavit oras. ausa et iacentem visere regiam

26voltu sereno, fortis et asperas tractare serpentes, ut atrum corpore conbiberet venenum, deliberata morte ferocior; saevis Liburnis scilicet invidens

31privata deduci superbo, non humilis mulier, triumpho.

Book 1, Poem 38

1Persicos odi, puer, adparatus,

2displicent nexae philyra coronae,

3mitte sectari, rosa quo locorum

4sera moretur.

5simplici myrto nihil adlabores

6sedulus curo: neque te ministrum

7dedecet myrtus neque me sub arta

8vite bibentem.

Book 2, Poem 1

1Motum ex Metello consule civicum bellique causas et vitia et modos ludumque Fortunae gravisque principum amicitias et arma nondum expiatis uncta cruoribus,

6periculosae plenum opus aleae, tractas et incedis per ignis suppositos cineri doloso. paulum severae musa tragoediae desit theatris: mox ubi publicas

11res ordinaris, grande munus Cecropio repetes cothurno, insigne maestis praesidium reis et consulenti, Pollio, curiae, cui laurus aeternos honores

16Delmatico peperit triumpho. iam nunc minaci murmure cornuum perstringis auris, iam litui strepunt, iam fulgor armorum fugacis terret equos equitumque voltus.

21audire magnos iam videor duces, non indecoro pulvere sordidos et cuncta terrarum subacta praeter atrocem animum Catonis. Iuno et deorum quisquis amicior

26Afris inulta cesserat inpotens tellure victorum nepotes rettulit inferias Iugurthae. quis non Latino sanguine pinguior campus sepulcris inpia proelia

31testatur auditumque Medis Hesperiae sonitum ruinae? qui gurges aut quae flumina lugubris ignara belli? quod mare Dauniae non decoloravere caedes?

36quae caret ora cruore nostro? sed ne relictis, Musa procax, iocis Ceae retractes munera neniae, mecum Dionaeo sub antro quaere modos leviore plectro.

Book 2, Poem 2

1Nullus argento color est avaris abdito terris, inimice lamnae Crispe Sallusti, nisi temperato splendeat usu. vivet extento Proculeius aevo,

6notus in fratres animi paterni: illum aget penna metuente solvi Fama superstes. latius regnes avidum domando spiritum quam si Libyam remotis

11Gadibus iungas et uterque Poenus serviat uni. crescit indulgens sibi dirus hydrops nec sitim pellit, nisi causa morbi fugerit venis et aquosus albo

16corpore languor. redditum Cyri solio Phraaten dissidens plebi numero beatorum eximit Virtus populumque falsis dedocet uti

21vocibus, regnum et diadema tutum deferens uni propriamque laurum quisquis ingentis oculo inretorto spectat acervos.

Book 2, Poem 3

1Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem, non secus in bonis ab insolenti temperatam laetitia, moriture Delli, seu maestus omni tempore vixeris

6seu te in remoto gramine per dies festos reclinatum bearis interiore nota Falerni. quo pinus ingens albaque populus umbram hospitalem consociare amant

11ramis? quid obliquo laborat lympha fugax trepidare rivo? huc vina et unguenta et nimium brevis flores amoenae ferre iube rosae, dum res et aetas et sororum

16fila trium patiuntur atra. cedes coemptis saltibus et domo villaque, flavos quam Tiberis lavit, cedes et exstructis in altum divitiis potietur heres.

21divesne prisco natus ab Inacho nil interest an pauper et infima de gente sub divo moreris: victima nil miserantis Orci. omnes eodem cogimur, omnium

26versatur urna serius ocius sors exitura et nos in aeternum exilium inpositura cumbae.

Book 2, Poem 4

1Ne sit ancillae tibi amor pudori, Xanthia Phoceu: prius insolentem serva Briseis niveo colore movit Achillem, movit Aiacem Telamone natum

6forma captivae dominum Tecmessae, arsit Atrides medio in triumpho virgine rapta, barbarae postquam cecidere turmae Thessalo victore et ademptus Hector

11tradidit fessis leviora tolli Pergama Grais. nescias an te generum beati Phyllidis flavae decorent parentes: regium certe genus, et penatis

16maeret iniquos. crede non illam tibi de scelesta plebe dilectam neque sic fidelem, sic lucro aversam potuisse nasci matre pudenda.

21bracchia et voltum teretesque suras integer laudo: fuge suspicari, cuius octavum trepidavit aetas claudere lustrum.

Book 2, Poem 5

1Nondum subacta ferre iugum valet cervice, nondum munia conparis aequare nec tauri ruentis in venerem tolerare pondus; circa virentis est animus tuae

6campos iuvencae nunc fluviis gravem solantis aestum, nunc in udo ludere cum vitulis salicto praegestientis. tolle cupidinem inmitis uvae: iam tibi lividos

11distinguet autumnus racemos purpureo varius colore. iam te sequetur (currit enim ferox aetas et illi quos tibi dempserit adponet annos), iam proterva

16fronte petet Lalage maritum dilecta, quantum non Pholoe fugax, non Chloris albo sic umero nitens ut pura nocturno renidet luna mari, Cnidiusve Gyges,

21quem si puellarum insereres choro, mire sagacis falleret hospites discrimen obscurum solutis crinibus ambiguoque voltu.

Book 2, Poem 6

1Septimi, Gadis aditure mecum et Cantabrum indoctum iuga ferre nostra et barbaras Syrtis, ubi Maura semper aestuat unda: Tibur Argeo positum colono

6sit meae sedes utinam senectae, sit modus lasso maris et viarum militiaeque. unde si Parcae prohibent iniquae, dulce pellitis ovibus Galaesi

11flumen et regnata petam Laconi rura Phalantho ille terrarum mihi praeter omnis angulus ridet, ubi non Hymetto mella decedunt viridique certat

16baca Venafro, ver ubi longum tepidasque praebet Iuppiter brumas et amicus Aulon fertili Baccho minimum Falernis invidet uvis;

21ille te mecum locus et beatae postulant arces: ibi tu calentem debita sparges lacrima favillam vatis amici.

Book 2, Poem 7

1O saepe mecum tempus in ultimum deducte Bruto militiae duce, quis te redonavit Quiritem dis patriis Italoque caelo, Pompei, meorum prime sodalium,

6cum quo morantem saepe diem mero fregi, coronatus nitentis malobathro Syrio capillos? tecum Philippos et celerem fugam sensi relicta non bene parmula,

11cum fracta virtus, et minaces turpe solum tetigere mento; sed me per hostis Mercurius celer denso paventem sustulit aere, te rursus in bellum resorbens

16unda fretis tulit aestuosis. ergo obligatam redde Iovi dapem longaque fessum militia latus depone sub lauru mea nec parce cadis tibi destinatis.

21oblivioso levia Massico ciboria exple, funde capacibus unguenta de conchis. quis udo deproperare apio coronas curatve myrto? quem Venus arbitrum

26dicet bibendi? non ego sanius bacchabor Edonis: recepto dulce mihi furere est amico.

Book 2, Poem 8

1Vlla si iuris tibi peierati poena, Barine, nocuisset umquam, dente si nigro fieres vel uno turpior ungui, crederem: sed tu simul obligasti

6perfidum votis caput, enitescis pulchrior multo iuvenumque prodis publica cura. expedit matris cineres opertos fallere et toto taciturna noctis

11signa cum caelo gelidaque divos morte carentis ridet hoc, inquam, Venus ipsa, rident simplices Nymphae, ferus et Cupido semper ardentis acuens sagittas

16cote cruenta. adde quod pubes tibi crescit omnis, servitus crescit nova nec priores inpiae tectum dominae relinquunt, saepe minati.

21te suis matres metuunt iuvencis, te senes parci miseraeque nuper virgines nuptae, tua ne retardet aura maritos.

Book 2, Poem 9

1Non semper imbres nubibus hispidos manant in agros aut mare Caspium vexant inaequales procellae usque nec Armeniis in oris, amice Valgi, stat glacies iners

6mensis per omnis aut Aquilonibus querceta Gargani laborant et foliis viduantur orni: tu semper urges flebilibus modis Mysten ademptum nec tibi Vespero

11surgente decedunt amores nec rapidum fugiente solem. at non ter aevo functus amabilem ploravit omnis Antilochum senex annos nec inpubem parentes

16Troilon aut Phrygiae sorores flevere semper. desine mollium tandem querellarum et potius nova cantemus Augusti tropaea Caesaris et rigidum Niphaten

21Medumque flumen gentibus additum victis minores volvere vertices intraque praescriptum Gelonos exiguis equitare campis.

Book 2, Poem 10

1Rectius vives, Licini, neque altum semper urgendo neque, dum procellas cautus horrescis, nimium premendo litus iniquum. auream quisquis mediocritatem

6diligit, tutus caret obsoleti sordibus tecti, caret invidenda sobrius aula. saepius ventis agitatur ingens pinus et celsae graviore casu

11decidunt turres feriuntque summos fulgura montis sperat infestis, metuit secundis alteram sortem bene praeparatum pectus. informis hiemes reducit

16Iuppiter, idem submovet. non, si male nunc, et olim sic erit: quondam cithara tacentem suscitat Musam neque semper arcum tendit Apollo.

21rebus angustis animosus atque fortis adpare: sapienter idem contrahes vento nimium secundo turgida vela.

Book 2, Poem 11

1Quid bellicosus Cantaber et Scythes, Hirpine Quinti, cogitet Hadria divisus obiecto, remittas quaerere nec trepides in usum poscentis aevi pauca: fugit retro

6levis iuventas et decor arida pellente lascivos amores canitie facilemque somnum. non semper idem floribus est honor vernis neque uno luna rubens nitet

11voltu: quid aeternis minorem consiliis animum fatigas? cur non sub alta vel platano vel hac pinu iacentes sic temere et rosa canos odorati capillos,

16dum licet, Assyriaque nardo potamus uncti? dissipat Euhius curas edacis. quis puer ocius restinguet ardentis Falerni pocula praetereunte lympha?

21quis devium scortum eliciet domo Lyden? eburna, dic age, cum lyra maturet, in comptum Lacaenae more comam religata nodum.

Book 2, Poem 12

1Nolis longa ferae bella Numantiae nec durum Hannibalem nec Siculum mare Poeno purpureum sanguine mollibus aptari citharae modis nec saevos Lapithas et nimium mero

6Hylaeum domitosque Herculea manu Telluris iuvenes, unde periculum fulgens contremuit domus Saturni veteris: tuque pedestribus dices historiis proelia Caesaris,

11Maecenas, melius ductaque per vias regum colla minacium. me dulcis dominae Musa Licymniae cantus, me voluit dicere lucidum fulgentis oculos et bene mutuis

16fidum pectus amoribus; quam nec ferre pedem dedecuit choris nec certare ioco nec dare bracchia ludentem nitidis virginibus sacro Dianae celebris die.

21num tu quae tenuit dives Achaemenes aut pinguis Phrygiae Mygdonias opes permutare velis crine Licymniae plenas aut Arabum domos, cum flagrantia detorquet ad oscula

26cervicem aut facili saevitia negat quae poscente magis gaudeat eripi, interdum rapere occupet?

Book 2, Poem 13

1Ille et nefasto te posuit die quicumque primum, et sacrilega manu produxit, arbos, in nepotum perniciem opprobriumque pagi; illum et parentis crediderim sui

6fregisse cervicem et penetralia sparsisse nocturno cruore hospitis; ille venena Colcha et quidquid usquam concipitur nefas tractavit, agro qui statuit meo

11te, triste lignum, te, caducum in domini caput inmerentis quid quisque vitet, numquam homini satis cautum est in horas: navita Bosporum Poenus perhorrescit neque ultra

16caeca timet aliunde fata, miles sagittas et celerem fugam Parthi, catenas Parthus et Italum robur; sed inprovisa leti vis rapuit rapietque gentis.

21quam paene furvae regna Proserpinae et iudicantem vidimus Aeacum sedesque discriptas piorum et Aeoliis fidibus querentem Sappho puellis de popularibus

26et te sonantem plenius aureo, Alcaee, plectro dura navis, dura fugae mala, dura belli. utrumque sacro digna silentio mirantur umbrae dicere, sed magis

31pugnas et exactos tyrannos densum umeris bibit aure volgus. quid mirum, ubi illis carminibus stupens demittit atras belua centiceps auris et intorti capillis

36Eumenidum recreantur angues? quin et Prometheus et Pelopis parens dulci laborem decipitur sono nec curat Orion leones aut timidos agitare lyncas

Book 2, Poem 14

1Eheu fugaces, Postume, Postume, labuntur anni nec pietas moram rugis et instanti senectae adferet indomitaeque morti, non, si trecenis quotquot eunt dies,

6amice, places inlacrimabilem Plutona tauris, qui ter amplum Geryonen Tityonque tristi conpescit unda, scilicet omnibus quicumque terrae munere vescimur

11enaviganda, sive reges sive inopes erimus coloni. frustra cruento Marte carebimus fractisque rauci fluctibus Hadriae, frustra per autumnos nocentem

16corporibus metuemus Austrum: visendus ater flumine languido Cocytos errans et Danai genus infame damnatusque longi Sisyphus Aeolides laboris.

21linquenda tellus et domus et placens uxor neque harum quas colis arborum te praeter invisas cupressos ulla brevem dominum sequetur. absumet heres Caecuba dignior

26servata centum clavibus et mero tinguet pavimentum superbo, pontificum potiore cenis.

Book 2, Poem 15

1Iam pauca aratro iugera regiae moles relinquent, undique latius extenta visentur Lucrino stagna lacu platanusque caelebs evincet ulmos; tum violaria et

6myrtus et omnis copia narium spargent olivetis odorem fertilibus domino priori, tum spissa ramis laurea fervidos excludet ictus. non ita Romuli

11praescriptum et intonsi Catonis auspiciis veterumque norma. privatus illis census erat brevis, commune magnum: nulla decempedis metata privatis opacam

16porticus excipiebat arcton nec fortuitum spernere caespitem leges sinebant, oppida publico sumptu iubentes et deorum templa novo decorare saxo.

Book 2, Poem 16

1Otium divos rogat in patenti prensus Aegaeo, simul atra nubes condidit lunam neque certa fulgent sidera nautis, otium bello furiosa Thrace,

6otium Medi pharetra decori, Grosphe, non gemmis neque purpura ve- nale nec auro. non enim gazae neque consularis submovet lictor miseros tumultus

11mentis et curas laqueata circum tecta volantis vivitur parvo bene cui paternum splendet in mensa tenui salinum nec levis somnos timor aut cupido

16sordidus aufert. quid brevi fortes iaculamur aevo multa? quid terras alio calentis sole mutamus? patriae quis exsul se quoque fugit?

21scandit aeratas vitiosa navis Cura nec turmas equitum relinquit ocior cervis et agente nimbos ocior Euro. laetus in praesens animus quod ultra est

26oderit curare et amara lento temperet risu: nihil est ab omni parte beatum. abstulit clarum cita mors Achillem, longa Tithonum minuit senectus

31et mihi forsan tibi quod negarit porriget hora. te greges centum Siculaeque circum mugiunt vaccae, tibi tollit hinnitum apta quadrigis equa, te bis Afro

36murice tinctae vestiunt lanae: mihi parva rura et spiritum Graiae tenuem Camenae Parca non mendax dedit et malignum spernere volgus.

Book 2, Poem 17

1Cur me querelis exanimas tuis? nec dis amicum est nec mihi te prius obire, Maecenas, mearum grande decus columenque rerum. a, te meae si partem animae rapit

6maturior vis, quid moror altera, nec carus aeque nec superstes integer? ille dies utramque ducet ruinam. non ego perfidum dixi sacramentum ibimus, ibimus,

11utcumque praecedes, supremum carpere iter comites parati. me nec Chimaerae spiritus igneae nec si resurgat centimanus Gyas divellet umquam: sic potenti

16Iustitiae placitumque Parcis. seu Libra seu me Scorpios adspicit formidolosus pars violentior natalis horae seu tyrannus Hesperiae Capricornus undae:

21utrumque nostrum incredibili modo consentit astrum; te Iovis inpio tutela Saturno refulgens eripuit volucrisque Fati tardavit alas, cum populus frequens

26laetum theatris ter crepuit sonum; me truncus inlapsus cerebro, sustulerat, nisi Faunus ictum dextra levasset, Mercurialium custos virorum. reddere victimas

31aedemque votivam memento; nos humilem feriemus agnam.

Book 2, Poem 18

1Non ebur neque aureum mea renidet in domo lacunar, non trabes Hymettiae premunt columnas ultima recisas Africa neque Attali

6ignotus heres regiam occupavi nec Laconicas mihi trahunt honestae purpuras clientae. at fides et ingeni benigna vena est pauperemque dives

11me petit: nihil supra deos lacesso nec potentem amicum largiora flagito, satis beatus unicis Sabinis. truditur dies die

16novaeque pergunt interire lunae: tu secanda marmora locas sub ipsum funus et sepulcri inmemor struis domos marisque Bais obstrepentis urges

21submovere litora, parum locuples continente ripa; quid quod usque proximos revellis agri terminos et ultra limites clientium

26salis avarus? pellitur paternos in sinu ferens deos et uxor et vir sordidosque natos. nulla certior tamen rapacis Orci fine destinata

31aula divitem manet erum. quid ultra tendis? aequa tellus pauperi recluditur regumque pueris nec satelles Orci callidum Promethea

36revexit auro captus; hic superbum Tantalum atque Tantali genus coercet, hic levare functum pauperem laboribus vocatus atque non vocatus audit.

Book 2, Poem 19

1Bacchum in remotis carmina rupibus vidi docentem, credite posteri, Nymphasque discentis et auris capripedum Satyrorum acutas euhoe, recenti mens trepidat metu,

6plenoque Bacchi pectore turbidum laetatur. euhoe, parce Liber, parce gravi metuende thyrso. fas pervicacis est mihi Thyiadas vinique fontem lactis et uberes

11cantare rivos atque truncis lapsa cavis iterare mella; fas et beatae coniugis additum stellis honorem tectaque Penthei disiecta non leni ruina

16Thracis et exitium Lycurgi tu flectis amnis, tu mare barbarum, tu separatis uvidus in iugis nodo coerces viperino Bistonidum sine fraude crinis.

21tu, cum parentis regna per arduum cohors gigantum scanderet inpia, Rhoetum retorsisti leonis unguibus horribilique mala; quamquam choreis aptior et iocis

26ludoque dictus non sat idoneus pugnae ferebaris; sed idem pacis eras mediusque belli. te vidit insons Cerberus aureo cornu decorum leniter atterens

31caudam et recedentis trilingui ore pedes tetigitque crura.

Book 2, Poem 20

1Non usitata nec tenui ferar penna biformis per liquidum aethera vates neque in terris morabor longius invidiaque maior urbis relinquam. non ego, pauperum

6sanguis parentum, non ego, quem vocas. dilecte Maecenas, obibo nec Stygia cohibebor unda. iam iam residunt cruribus asperae pelles et album mutor in alitem

11superne nascunturque leves per digitos umerosque plumae. iam Daedaleo notior Icaro visam gementis litora Bospori Syrtisque Gaetulas canorus

16ales Hyperboreosque campos. me Colchus et qui dissimulat metum Marsae cohortis Dacus et ultimi noscent Geloni, me peritus discet Hiber Rhodanique potor.

21absint inani funere neniae luctusque turpes et querimoniae; conpesce clamorem ac sepulcri mitte supervacuos honores.

Book 3, Poem 1

1Odi profanum volgus et arceo. favete linguis: carmina non prius audita Musarum sacerdos virginibus puerisque canto. regum timendorum in proprios greges,

6reges in ipsos imperium est Iovis, clari Giganteo triumpho, cuncta supercilio moventis. est ut viro vir latius ordinet arbusta sulcis, hic generosior

11descendat in campum petitor, moribus hic meliorque fama contendat, illi turba clientium sit maior: aequa lege Necessitas sortitur insignis et imos,

16omne capax movet urna nomen. destrictus ensis cui super inpia cervice pendet, non Siculae dapes dulcem elaborabunt saporem, non avium citharaeque cantus

21somnum reducent: somnus agrestium lenis virorum non humilis domos fastidit umbrosamque ripam, non Zephyris agitata Tempe. desiderantem quod satis est neque

26tumultuosum sollicitat mare nec saevus Arcturi cadentis impetus aut orientis Haedi, non verberatae grandine vineae fundusque mendax arbore nunc aquas

31culpante, nunc torrentia agros sidera, nunc hiemes iniquas. contracta pisces aequora sentiunt iactis in altum molibus: huc frequens caementa demittit redemptor

36cum famulis dominusque terrae fastidiosus: sed Timor et Minae scandunt eodem, quo dominus, neque decedit aerata triremi et post equitem sedet atra Cura.

41quodsi dolentem nec Phrygius lapis nec purpurarum sidere clarior delenit usus nec Falerna vitis Achaemeniumque costum, cur invidendis postibus et novo

46sublime ritu moliar atrium? cur valle permutem Sabina divitias operosiores?

Book 3, Poem 2

1Angustam amice pauperiem pati robustus acri militia puer condiscat et Parthos ferocis vexet eques metuendus hasta vitamque sub divo et trepidis agat

6in rebus. illum ex moenibus hosticis matrona bellantis tyranni prospiciens et adulta virgo suspiret “eheu, ne rudis agminum sponsus lacessat regius asperum

11tactu leonem, quem cruenta per medias rapit ira caedes.” dulce et decorum est pro patria mori: mors et fugacem persequitur virum nec parcit inbellis iuventae

16poplitibus timidoque tergo. Virtus, repulsae nescia sordidae, intaminatis fulget honoribus nec sumit aut ponit securis arbitrio popularis aurae.

21Virtus, recludens inmeritis mori caelum, negata temptat iter via coetusque volgaris et udam spernit humum fugiente penna. est et fideli tuta silentio

26merces: vetabo, qui Cereris sacrum volgarit arcanae, sub isdem sit trabibus fragilemque mecum solvat phaselon; saepe Diespiter neglectus incesto addidit integrum,

31raro antecedentem scelestum deseruit pede Poena claudo.

Book 3, Poem 3

1Iustum et tenacem propositi virum non civium ardor prava iubentium, non voltus instantis tyranni mente quatit solida neque Auster, dux inquieti turbidus Hadriae,

6nec fulminantis magna manus Iovis: si fractus inlabatur orbis, inpavidum ferient ruinae. hac arte Pollux et vagus Hercules enisus arcis attigit igneas,

11quos inter Augustus recumbens purpureo bibet ore nectar, hac te merentem, Bacche pater, tuae vexere tigres indocili iugum collo trahentes, hac Quirinus

16Martis equis Acheronta fugit, gratum elocuta consiliantibus Iunone divis: “Ilion, Ilion fatalis incestusque iudex et mulier peregrina vertit

21in pulverem ex quo destituit deos mercede pacta Laomedon, mihi castaeque damnatum Minervae cum populo et duce fraudulento. iam nec Lacaenae splendet adulterae

26famosus hospes nec Priami domus periura pugnacis Achivos Hectoreis opibus refringit nostrisque ductum seditionibus bellum resedit; protinus et gravis

31iras et invisum nepotem, Troica quem peperit sacerdos, Marti redonabo; illum ego lucidas inire sedes, discere nectaris sucos et adscribi quietis

36ordinibus patiar deorum. dum longus inter saeviat Ilion Romamque pontus, qualibet exsules in parte regnanto beati; dum Priami Paridisque busto

41insultet armentum et catulos ferae celent inultae, stet Capitolium fulgens triumphatisque possit Roma ferox dare iura Medis. horrenda late nomen in ultimas

46extendat oras, qua medius liquor secernit Europen ab Afro, qua tumidus rigat arva Nilus. aurum inrepertum et sic melius situm, cum terra celat, spernere fortior

51quam cogere humanos in usus omne sacrum rapiente dextra, quicumque mundo terminus obstitit hunc tanget armis, visere gestiens, qua parte debacchentur ignes,

56qua nebulae pluviique rores. sed bellicosis fata Quiritibus hac lege dico, ne nimium pii rebusque fidentes avitae tecta velint reparare Troiae.

61Troiae renascens alite lugubri fortuna tristi clade iterabitur ducente victrices catervas coniuge me Iovis et sorore. ter si resurgat murus aeneus

66auctore Phoebo, ter pereat meis excisus Argivis, ter uxor capta virum puerosque ploret” non hoc iocosae conveniet lyrae — quo, Musa, tendis? desine pervicax

71referre sermones deorum et magna modis tenuare parvis.

Book 3, Poem 4

1Descende caelo et dic age tibia regina longum Calliope melos, seu voce nunc mavis acuta seu fidibus citharave Phoebi. auditis? an me ludit amabilis

6insania? audire et videor pios errare per lucos, amoenae quos et aquae subeunt et aurae. me fabulosae Volture in Apulo nutricis extra limina Pulliae

11ludo fatigatumque somno fronde nova puerum palumbes texere, mirum quod foret omnibus quicumque celsae nidum Aceruntiae saltusque Bantinos et arvum

16pingue tenent humilis Forenti, ut tuto ab atris corpore viperis dormirem et ursis, ut premerer sacra lauroque conlataque myrto non sine dis animosus infans.

21vester, Camenae, vester in arduos tollor Sabinos, seu mihi frigidum Praeneste seu Tibur supinum seu liquidae placuere Baiae. vestris amicum fontibus et choris

26non me Philippis versa acies retro, devota non extinxit arbor nec Sicula Palinurus unda. utcumque mecum vos eritis, libens insanientem navita Bosporum

31temptabo et urentis harenas litoris Assyrii viator, visam Britannos hospitibus feros et laetum equino sanguine Concanum, visam pharetratos Gelonos

36et Scythicum inviolatus amnem. vos Caesarem altum, militia simul fessas cohortes abdidit oppidis, finire quaerentem labores Pierio recreatis antro.

41vos lene consilium et datis et dato gaudetis, almae. scimus, ut inpios Titanas immanemque turbam fulmine sustulerit caduco qui terram inertem, qui mare temperat

46ventosum et urbis regnaque tristia divosque mortalisque turmas imperio regit unus aequo. magnum illa terrorem intulerat Iovi fidens iuventus horrida bracchiis

51fratresque tendentes opaco Pelion inposuisse Olympo. sed quid Typhoeus et validus Mimas aut quid minaci Porphyrion statu, quid Rhoetus evolsisque truncis

56Enceladus iaculator audax contra sonantem Palladis aegida possent ruentes? hinc avidus stetit Volcanus, hinc matrona Iuno et numquam umeris positurus arcum

61qui rore puro Castaliae lavit crinis solutos, qui Lyciae tenet dumeta natalemque silvam Delius et Patareus Apollo. vis consili expers mole ruit sua,

66vim temperatam di quoque provehunt in maius; idem odere viris omne nefas animo moventis. testis mearum centimanus Gyas sententiarum, notus et integrae

71temptator Orion Dianae virginea domitus sagitta. iniecta monstris Terra dolet suis maeretque partus fulmine luridum missos ad Orcum; nec peredit

76inpositam celer ignis Aetnen incontinentis nec Tityi iecur reliquit ales, nequitiae additus custos; amatorem trecentae Pirithoum cohibent catenae.

Book 3, Poem 5

1Caelo tonantem credidimus Iovem regnare; praesens divus habebitur Augustus adiectis Britannis imperio gravibusque Persis. milesne Crassi coniuge barbara

6turpis maritus vixit et hostium, pro curia inversique mores! consenuit socerorum in armis sub rege Medo Marsus et Apulus, anciliorum et nominis et togae

11oblitus aeternaeque Vestae, incolumi Iove et urbe Roma? hoc caverat mens provida Reguli dissentientis condicionibus foedis et exemplo trahentis

16perniciem veniens in aevum, si non periret inmiserabilis captiva pubes. “signa ego Punicis adfixa delubris et arma militibus sine caede” dixit

21“derepta vidi, vidi ego civium retorta tergo bracchia libero portasque non clausas et arva Marte coli populata nostro. auro repensus scilicet acrior

26miles redibit: flagitio additis damnum; neque amissos colores lana refert medicata fuco nec vera virtus, cum semel excidit, curat reponi deterioribus.

31si pugnat extricata densis cerva plagis, erit ille fortis qui perfidis se credidit hostibus et Marte Poenos proteret altero; qui lora restrictis lacertis

36sensit iners timuitque mortem, hic, unde vitam sumeret inscius, pacem duello miscuit. o pudor! o magna Carthago, probrosis altior Italiae ruinis!”

41fertur pudicae coniugis osculum parvosque natos ut capitis minor ab se removisse et virilem torvus humi posuisse voltum, donec labantis consilio patres

46firmaret auctor numquam alias dato interque maerentis amicos egregius properaret exul. atqui sciebat, quae sibi barbarus tortor pararet: non aliter tamen

51dimovit obstantis propinquos et populum reditus morantem quam si clientum longa negotia diiudicata lite relinqueret tendens Venafranos in agros

56aut Lacedaemonium Tarentum.

Book 3, Poem 6

1Delicta maiorum inmeritus lues, Romane, donec templa refeceris aedisque labentis deorum et foeda nigro simulacra fumo. dis te minorem quod geris, imperas:

6hinc omne principium, huc refer exitum: di multa neglecti dederunt Hesperiae mala luctuosae. iam bis Monaeses et Pacori manus inauspicatos contudit impetus

11nostros et adiecisse praedam torquibus exiguis renidet. paene occupatam seditionibus delevit urbem Dacus et Aethiops, hic classe formidatus, ille

16missilibus melior sagittis. fecunda culpae saecula nuptias primum inquinavere et genus et domos: hoc fonte derivata clades in patriam populumque fluxit.

21motus doceri gaudet Ionicos matura virgo et fingitur artibus iam nunc et incestos amores de tenero meditatur ungui. mox iuniores quaerit adulteros

26inter mariti vina neque eligit cui donet inpermissa raptim gaudia luminibus remotis, sed iussa coram non sine conscio surgit marito, seu vocat institor

31seu navis Hispanae magister, dedecorum pretiosus emptor. non his iuventus orta parentibus infecit aequor sanguine Punico Pyrrhumque et ingentem cecidit

36Antiochum Hannibalemque dirum, sed rusticorum mascula militum proles, Sabellis docta ligonibus versare glaebas et severae matris ad arbitrium recisos

41portare fustis, sol ubi montium mutaret umbras et iuga demeret bubus fatigatis amicum tempus agens abeunte curru. damnosa quid non inminuit dies?

46aetas parentum, peior avis, tulit nos nequiores, mox daturos progeniem vitiosiorem.

Book 3, Poem 7

1Quid fles, Asterie, quem tibi, candidi primo restituent vere Favonii Thyna merce beatum, constantis iuvenem fide Gygen? ille Notis actus ad Oricum

6post insana Caprae sidera frigidas noctis non sine multis insomnis lacrimis agit. atqui sollicitae nuntius hospitae, suspirare Chloen et miseram tuis

11dicens ignibus uri, temptat mille vafer modis: ut Proetum mulier perfida credulum falsis inpulerit criminibus nimis casto Bellerophontae

16maturare necem, refert; narrat paene datum Pelea Tartaro, Magnessam Hippolyten dum fugit abstinens, et peccare docentis fallax historias movet.

21frustra: nam scopulis surdior Icari voces audit adhuc integer. at tibi ne vicinus Enipeus plus iusto placeat cave; quamvis non alius flectere equum sciens

26aeque conspicitur gramine Martio, nec quisquam citus aeque Tusco denatat alveo. prima nocte domum claude neque in vias sub cantu querulae despice tibiae

31et te saepe vocanti duram difficilis mane.

Book 3, Poem 8

1Martiis caelebs quid agam kalendis, quid velint flores et acerra turis plena miraris positusque carbo in caespite vivo, docte sermones utriusque linguae?

6voveram dulcis epulas et album Libero caprum prope funeratus arboris ictu. hic dies anno redeunte festus corticem adstrictum pice dimovebit

11amphorae fumum bibere institutae consule Tullo. sume, Maecenas, cyathos amici sospitis centum et vigiles lucernas perfer in lucem: procul omnis esto

16clamor et ira. mitte civilis super urbe curas: occidit Daci Cotisonis agmen, Medus infestus sibi luctuosis dissidet armis,

21servit Hispanae vetus hostis orae Cantaber, sera domitus catena, iam Scythae laxo meditantur arcu cedere campis. neglegens, ne qua populus laboret,

26parce privatus nimium cavere et dona praesentis cape laetus horae, linque severa.

Book 3, Poem 9

1“Donec gratus eram tibi nec quisquam potior bracchia candidae cervici iuvenis dabat, Persarum vigui rege beatior.” “donec non alia magis

6arsisti neque erat Lydia post Chloen, multi Lydia nominis, Romana vigui clarior Ilia.” “me nunc Thressa Chloe regit, dulcis docta modos et citharae sciens,

11pro qua non metuam mori, si parcent animae fata superstiti” “me torret face mutua Thurini Calais filius Ornyti, pro quo bis patiar mori,

16si parcent puero fata superstiti.” “quid si prisca redit Venus diductosque iugo cogit aeneo? si flava excutitur Chloe reiectaeque patet ianua Lydiae?”

21“quamquam sidere pulchrior ille est, tu levior cortice et inprobo iracundior Hadria: tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam lubens.”

Book 3, Poem 10

1Extremum Tanain si biberes, Lyce, saevo nupta viro, me tamen asperas porrectum ante foris obicere incolis plorares Aquilonibus audis, quo strepitu ianua, quo nemus

6inter pulcra satum tecta remugiat ventis et positas ut glaciet nives puro numine Iuppiter? ingratam Veneri pone superbiam, ne currente retro funis eat rota:

11non te Penelopen difficilem procis Tyrrhenus genuit parens. o quamvis neque te munera nec preces nec tinctus viola pallor amantium nec vir Pieria paelice saucius

16curvat, supplicibus tuis parcas, nec rigida mollior aesculo nec Mauris animum mitior anguibus: non hoc semper erit liminis aut aquae caelestis patiens latus.

Book 3, Poem 11

1Mercuri, nam te docilis magistro movit Amphion lapides canendo, tuque testudo resonare septem callida nervis, nec loquax olim neque grata, nunc et

6divitum mensis et amica templis, dic modos, Lyde quibus obstinatas adplicet auris, quae velut latis equa trima campis ludit exsultim metuitque tangi

11nuptiarum expers et adhuc protervo cruda marito. tu potes tigris comitesque silvas ducere et rivos celeres morari; cessit immanis tibi blandienti

16ianitor aulae Cerberus, quamvis furiale centum muniant angues caput eius atque spiritus taeter saniesque manet ore trilingui;

21quin et Ixion Tityosque voltu risit invito, stetit urna paulum sicca, dum grato Danai puellas carmine mulces. audiat Lyde scelus atque notas

26virginum poenas et inane lymphae dolium fundo pereuntis imo seraque fata, quae manent culpas etiam sub Orco. inpiae, (nam quid potuere maius?)

31inpiae sponsos potuere duro perdere ferro. una de multis face nuptiali digna periurum fuit in parentem splendide mendax et in omne virgo

36nobilis aevum, “surge” quae dixit iuveni marito, “surge, ne longus tibi somnus unde non times detur; socerum et scelestas falle sorores,

41quae velut nactae vitulos leaenae singulos eheu lacerant: ego illis mollior nec te feriam neque intra claustra tenebo. me pater saevis oneret catenis,

46quod viro clemens misero peperci, me vel extremos Numidarum in agros classe releget: i pedes quo te rapiunt et aurae, dum favet nox et Venus, i secundo

51omine et nostri memorem sepulcro scalpe querelam.”

Book 3, Poem 12

1Miserarum est neque amori dare ludum neque dulci mala vino lavere, aut exanimari metuentis patruae verbera linguae. tibi qualum Cythereae puer ales, tibi telas operosaeque Minervae studium aufert, Neobule,

6Liparaei nitor Hebri, simul unctos Tiberinis umeros lavit in undis, eques ipso melior Bellerophonte, neque pugno neque segni pede victus, catus idem per apertum fugientis agitato

11grege cervos iaculari et celer arto latitantem fruticeto excipere aprum.

Book 3, Poem 13

1O fons Bandusiae splendidior vitro, dulci digne mero non sine floribus, cras donaberis haedo, cui frons turgida cornibus primis et venerem et proelia destinat;

6frustra: nam gelidos inficiet tibi rubro sanguine rivos lascivi suboles gregis. te flagrantis atrox hora Caniculae nescit tangere, tu frigus amabile

11fessis vomere tauris praebes et pecori vago. fies nobilium tu quoque fontium me dicente cavis inpositam ilicem saxis, unde loquaces

16lymphae desiliunt tuae.

Book 3, Poem 14

1Herculis ritu modo dictus, o plebs, morte venalem petiisse laurum Caesar Hispana repetit penatis victor ab ora. unico gaudens mulier marito

6prodeat iustis operata sacris et soror clari ducis et decorae supplice vitta virginum matres iuvenumque nuper sospitum; vos, o pueri et puellae

11iam virum expertae, male nominatis parcite verbis. hic dies vere mihi festus atras exiget curas ego nec tumultum nec mori per vim metuam tenente

16Caesare terras. i pete unguentum, puer, et coronas et cadum Marsi memorem duelli, Spartacum siqua potuit vagantem fallere testa.

21dic et argutae properet Neaerae murreum nodo cohibere crinem; si per invisum mora ianitorem fiet, abito. lenit albescens animos capillus

26litium et rixae cupidos protervae; non ego hoc ferrem calidus iuventa consule Planco.

Book 3, Poem 15

1Uxor pauperis Ibyci, tandem nequitiae fige modum tuae famosisque laboribus; maturo propior desine funeri inter ludere virgines

6et stellis nebulam spargere candidis. non, siquid Pholoen, satis et te, Chlori, decet: filia rectius expugnat iuvenum domos, pulso Thyias uti concita tympano.

11illam cogit amor Nothi lascivae similem ludere capreae, te lanae prope nobilem tonsae Luceriam, non citharae decent nec flos purpureus rosae

16nec poti, vetulam, faece tenus cadi.

Book 3, Poem 16

1Inclusam Danaen turris aenea robustaeque fores et vigilum canum tristes excubiae munierant satis nocturnis ab adulteris, si non Acrisium virginis abditae

6custodem pavidum Iuppiter et Venus risissent: fore enim tutum iter et patens converso in pretium deo. aurum per medios ire satellites et perrumpere amat saxa potentius

11ictu fulmineo: concidit auguris Argivi domus ob lucrum demersa exitio; diffidit urbium portas vir Macedo et subruit aemulos reges muneribus; munera navium

16saevos inlaqueant duces. crescentem sequitur cura pecuniam maiorumque fames. iure perhorrui late conspicuum tollere verticem, Maecenas, equitum decus.

21quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit, ab dis plura feret nil cupientium nudus castra peto et transfuga divitum partis linquere gestio, contemptae dominus splendidior rei,

26quam si quidquid arat inpiger Apulus occultare meis dicerer horreis, magnas inter opes inops. purae rivos aquae silvaque iugerum paucorum et segetis certa fides meae

31fulgentem imperio fertilis Africae fallit sorte beatior. quamquam nec Calabrae mella ferunt apes nec Laestrygonia Bacchus in amphora languescit mihi nec pinguia Gallicis

36crescunt vellera pascuis: inportuna tamen pauperies abest nec, si plura velim, tu dare deneges. contracto melius parva cupidine vectigalia porrigam

41quam si Mygdoniis regnum Alyattei campis continuem. multa petentibus desunt multa: bene est cui deus obtulit parca quod satis est manu.

Book 3, Poem 17

1Aeli vetusto nobilis ab Lamo, quando et priores hinc Lamias ferunt denominatos et nepotum per memores genus omne fastos, auctore ab illo ducis originem,

6qui Formiarum moenia dicitur princeps et innantem Maricae litoribus tenuisse Lirim, late tyrannus:— cras foliis nemus multis et alga litus inutili

11demissa tempestas ab Euro sternet, aquae nisi fallit augur annosa cornix. dum potes, aridum conpone lignum: cras genium mero curabis et porco bimenstri

16cum famulis operum solutis.

Book 3, Poem 18

1Faune, Nympharum fugientum amator, per meos finis et aprica rura lenis incedas abeasque parvis aequus alumnis, si tener pleno cadit haedus anno

6larga nec desunt Veneris sodali vina craterae, vetus ara multo fumat odore. ludit herboso pecus omne campo cum tibi nonae redeunt Decembres,

11festus in pratis vacat otioso cum bove pagus, inter audacis lupus errat agnos, spargit agrestis tibi silva frondes, gaudet invisam pepulisse fossor

16ter pede terram.

Book 3, Poem 19

1Quantum distet ab Inacho Codrus pro patria non timidus mori narras et genus Aeaci et pugnata sacro bella sub Ilio: quo Chium pretio cadum

6mercemur, quis aquam temperet ignibus, quo praebente domum et quota Paelignis caream frigoribus, taces. da lunae propere novae, da noctis mediae, da, puer, auguris

11Murenae: tribus aut novem miscentur cyathis pocula commodis. qui Musas amat imparis, ternos ter cyathos attonitus petet vates; tris prohibet supra

16rixarum metuens tangere Gratia nudis iuncta sororibus. insanire iuvat: cur Berecyntiae cessant flamina tibiae? cur pendet tacita fistula cum lyra?

21parcentis ego dexteras odi: sparge rosas, audiat invidus dementem strepitum Lycus et vicina seni non habilis Lyco. spissa te nitidum coma,

26puro te similem, Telephe, Vespero tempestiva petit Rhode; me lentus Glycerae torret amor meae.

Book 3, Poem 20

1Non vides, quanto moveas periclo, Pyrrhe, Gaetulae catulos leaenae? dura post paulo fugies inaudax proelia raptor, cum per obstantis iuvenum catervas

6ibit insignem repetens Nearchum: grande certamen, tibi praeda cedat, maior an illa. interim, dum tu celeres sagittas promis, haec dentis acuit timendos,

11arbiter pugnae posuisse nudo sub pede palmam fertur et leni recreare vento sparsum odoratis umerum capillis, qualis aut Nireus fuit aut aquosa

16raptus ab Ida.

Book 3, Poem 21

1O nata mecum consule Manlio, seu tu querellas sive geris iocos seu rixam et insanos amores seu facilem, pia testa, somnum, quocumque lectum nomine Massicum

6servas, moveri digna bono die, descende Corvino iubente promere languidiora vina. non ille, quamquam Socraticis madet sermonibus, te neglegit horridus:

11narratur et prisci Catonis saepe mero caluisse virtus. tu lene tormentum ingenio admoves plerumque duro, tu sapientium curas et arcanum iocoso

16consilium retegis Lyaeo, tu spem reducis mentibus anxiis virisque et addis cornua pauperi post te neque iratos trementi regum apices neque militum arma.

21te Liber et si laeta aderit Venus segnesque nodum solvere Gratiae vivaeque producent lucernae, dum rediens fugat astra Phoebus.

Book 3, Poem 22

1Montium custos nemorumque, virgo,

2quae laborantis utero puellas

3ter vocata audis adimisque leto,

4diva triformis,

5imminens villae tua pinus esto,

6quam per exactos ego laetus annos

7verris obliquum meditantis ictum

8sanguine donem.

Book 3, Poem 23

1Caelo supinas si tuleris manus nascente luna, rustica Phidyle, si ture placaris et horna fruge Laris avidaque porca: nec pestilentem sentiet Africum

6fecunda vitis nec sterilem seges robiginem aut dulces alumni pomifero grave tempus anno. nam quae nivali pascitur Algido devota quercus inter et ilices

11aut crescit Albanis in herbis victima, pontificum securis cervice tinguet: te nihil attinet temptare multa caede bidentium parvos coronantem marino

16rore deos fragilique myrto. inmunis aram si tetigit manus, non sumptuosa blandior hostia, mollivit aversos Penatis farre pio et saliente mica.

Book 3, Poem 24

1Intactis opulentior thesauris Arabum et divitis Indiae caementis licet occupes terrenum omne tuis et mare publicum: si figit adamantinos

6summis verticibus dira Necessitas clavos, non animum metu, non mortis laqueis expedies caput. campestres melius Scythae, quorum plaustra vagas rite trahunt domos

11vivunt et rigidi Getae, inmetata quibus iugera liberas fruges et Cererem ferunt nec cultura placet longior annua defunctumque laboribus

16aequali recreat sorte vicarius. illic matre carentibus privignis mulier temperat innocens nec dotata regit virum coniunx nec nitido fidit adultero;

21dos est magna parentium virtus et metuens alterius viri certo foedere castitas, et peccare nefas aut pretium est mori. o quisquis volet inpias

26caedis et rabiem tollere civicam, si quaeret pater urbium subscribi statuis, indomitam audeat refrenare licentiam, clarus postgenitis: quatenus, heu nefas

31virtutem incolumem odimus, sublatam ex oculis quaerimus invidi. quid tristes querimoniae, si non supplicio culpa reciditur, quid leges sine moribus

36vanae proficiunt, si neque fervidis pars inclusa caloribus mundi nec Boreae finitimum latus durataeque solo nives mercatorem abigunt, horrida callidi

41vincunt aequora navitae, magnum pauperies opprobrium iubet quidvis et facere et pati virtutisque viam deserit arduae? vel nos in Capitolium,

46quo clamor vocat et turba faventium, vel nos in mare proximum gemmas et lapides aurum et inutile, summi materiem mali, mittamus, scelerum si bene paenitet.

51eradenda cupidinis pravi sunt elementa et tenerae nimis mentes asperioribus formandae studiis. nescit equo rudis haerere ingenuus puer

56venarique timet, ludere doctior, seu Graeco iubeas trocho seu malis vetita legibus alea, cum periura patris fides consortem socium fallat et hospites

61indignoque pecuniam heredi properet. scilicet inprobae crescunt divitiae, tamen curtae nescio quid semper abest rei.

Book 3, Poem 25

1Quo me, Bacche, rapis tui plenum? quae nemora aut quos agor in specus, velox mente nova? quibus antris egregii Caesaris audiar aeternum meditans decus

6stellis inserere et consilio Iovis? dicam insigne, recens, adhuc indictum ore alio. non secus in iugis exsomnis stupet Euhias Hebrum prospiciens et nive candidam

11Thracen ac pede barbaro lustratam Rhodopen, ut mihi devio ripas et vacuum nemus mirari libet. o Naiadum potens Baccharumque valentium

16proceras manibus vertere fraxinos, nil parvum aut humili modo, nil mortale loquar. dulce periculum est, o Lenaee, sequi deum cingentem viridi tempora pampino.

Book 3, Poem 26

1Vixi puellis nuper idoneus et militavi non sine gloria; nunc arma defunctumque bello barbiton hic paries habebit, laevum marinae qui Veneris latus

6custodit. hic, hic ponite lucida funalia et vectis et arcus oppositis foribus minacis. o quae beatam diva tenes Cyprum et Memphin carentem Sithonia nive,

11regina, sublimi flagello tange Chloen semel arrogantem.

Book 3, Poem 27

1Inpios parrae recinentis omen ducat et praegnans canis aut ab agro rava decurrens lupa Lanuvino fetaque volpes; rumpat et serpens iter institutum,

6si per obliquum similis sagittae terruit mannos: ego cui timebo, providus auspex, antequam stantis repetat paludes imbrium divina avis imminentium,

11oscinem corvum prece suscitabo solis ab ortu. sis licet felix, ubicumque mavis, et memor nostri, Galatea, vivas teque nec laevos vetet ire picus

16nec vaga cornix. sed vides, quanto trepidet tumultu pronus Orion. ego quid sit ater Hadriae novi sinus et quid albus peccet Iapyx.

21hostium uxores puerique caecos sentiant motus orientis Austri et aequoris nigri fremitum et trementis verbere ripas. sic et Europe niveum doloso

26credidit tauro latus et scatentem beluis pontum mediasque fraudes palluit audax. nuper in pratis studiosa florum et debitae Nymphis opifex coronae

31nocte sublustri nihil astra praeter vidit et undas. quae simul centum tetigit potentem oppidis Creten, “pater, o relictum filiae nomen pietasque” dixit

36“victa furore! unde quo veni? levis una mors est virginum culpae. vigilansne ploro turpe conmissum an vitiis carentem ludit imago

41vana, quae porta fugiens eburna somnium ducit? meliusne fluctus ire per longos fuit an recentis carpere flores? siquis infamem mihi nunc iuvencum

46dedat iratae, lacerare ferro et frangere enitar modo multum amati cornua monstri. inpudens liqui patrios Penates, inpudens Orcum moror. o deorum

51siquis haec audis, utinam inter errem nuda leones. antequam turpis macies decentis occupet malas teneraeque sucus defluat praedae, speciosa quaero

56pascere tigris “vilis Europe” pater urget absens: “quid mori cessas? potes hac ab orno pendulum zona bene te secuta laedere collum.

61sive te rupes et acuta leto saxa delectant, age te procellae crede veloci, nisi erile mavis carpere pensum regius sanguis dominaeque tradi

66barbarae paelex.”” aderat querenti perfidum ridens Venus et remisso filius arcu. mox ubi lusit satis, “abstineto” dixit “irarum calidaeque rixae,

71cum tibi invisus laceranda reddet cornua taurus. uxor invicti Iovis esse nescis. mitte singultus, bene ferre magnam disce fortunam; tua sectus orbis

76nomina ducet.”

Book 3, Poem 28

1Festo quid potius die Neptuni faciam? prome reconditum, Lyde, strenua Caecubum, munitaeque adhibe vim sapientiae. inclinare meridiem

6sentis et, veluti stet volucris dies, parcis deripere horreo cessantem Bibuli consulis amphoram. nos cantabimus invicem Neptunum et viridis Nereidum comas;

11tu curva recines lyra Latonam et celeris spicula Cynthiae; summo carmine quae Cnidon fulgentisque tenet Cycladas et Paphon iunctis visit oloribus

16dicetur, merita Nox quoque nenia.

Book 3, Poem 29

1Tyrrhena regum progenies, tibi non ante verso lene merum cado cum flore, Maecenas, rosarum et pressa tuis balanus capillis iamdudum apud me est: eripe te morae

6ne semper udum Tibur et Aefulae declive contempleris arvum et Telegoni iuga parricidae. fastidiosam desere copiam et molem propinquam nubibus arduis,

11omitte mirari beatae fumum et opes strepitumque Romae. plerumque gratae divitibus vices mundaeque parvo sub lare pauperum cenae sine aulaeis et ostro

16sollicitam explicuere frontem. Iam clarus occultum Andromedae pater ostendit ignem, iam Procyon furit et stella vesani Leonis, sole dies referente siccos;

21iam pastor umbras cum grege languido rivumque fessus quaerit et horidi dumeta Silvani, caretque ripa vagis taciturna ventis. tu civitatem quis deceat status

26curas et urbi sollicitus times quid Seres et regnata Cyro Bactra parent Tanaisque discors. prudens futuri temporis exitum caliginosa nocte premit deus

31ridetque, si mortalis ultra fas trepidat. quod adest memento conponere aequos; cetera fluminis ritu feruntur, nunc medio alveo cum pace delabentis Etruscum

36in mare, nunc lapides adesos stirpisque raptas et pecus et domos volventis una, non sine montium clamore vicinaeque silvae, cum fera diluvies quietos

41inritat amnis. ille potens sui laetusque deget cui licet in diem dixisse “vixi: cras vel atra nube polum pater occupato vel sole puro; non tamen inritum

46quodcumque retro est efficiet neque diffinget infectumque reddet quod fugiens semel hora vexit.” Fortuna saevo laeta negotio et ludum insolentem ludere pertinax

51transmutat incertos honores, nunc mihi nunc alii benigna. laudo manentem; si celeres quatit pennas, resigno quae dedit et mea virtute me involvo probamque

56pauperiem sine dote quaero. non est meum, si mugiat Africis malus procellis, ad miseras preces decurrere et votis pacisci ne Cypriae Tyriaeque merces

61addant avaro divitias mari: tunc me biremis praesidio scaphae tutum per Aegaeos tumultus aura feret geminusque Pollux.

Book 3, Poem 30

1Exegi monumentum aere perennius regalique situ pyramidum altius, quod non imber edax, non aquilo impotens possit diruere aut innumerabilis annorum series et fuga temporum.

6non omnis moriar multaque pars mei vitabit Libitinam; usque ego postera crescam laude recens, dum Capitolium scandet cum tacita virgine pontifex. dicar, qua violens obstrepit Aufidus

11et qua pauper aquae Daunus agrestium regnavit populorum, ex humili potens, princeps Aeolium carmen ad Italos deduxisse modos. sume superbiam quaesitam meritis et mihi Delphica

16lauro cinge volens, Melpomene, comam.

Book 4, Poem 1

1Intermissa, Venus, diu rursus bella moves? parce, precor precor. non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cinarae. desine, dulcium mater saeva Cupidinum,

6circa lustra decem flectere mollibus iam durum imperiis: abi, quo blandae iuvenum te revocant preces. tempestivius in domum Pauli purpureis ales oloribus

11comissabere Maximi, si torrere iecur quaeris idoneum; namque et nobilis et decens et pro sollicitis non tacitus reis et centum puer artium

16late signa feret militiae tuae et, quandoque potentior largi muneribus riserit aemuli, Albanos prope te lacus ponet marmoream sub trabe citrea.

21illic plurima naribus duces tura lyraeque et Berecyntiae delectabere tibiae mixtis carminibus non sine fistula; illic bis pueri die

26numen cum teneris virginibus tuum laudantes pede candido in morem Salium ter quatient humum. me nec femina nec puer iam nec spes animi credula mutui

31nec certare iuvat mero nec vincire novis tempora floribus. sed cur heu, Ligurine, cur manat rara meas lacrima per genas? cur facunda parum decoro

36inter verba cadit lingua silentio? nocturnis ego somniis iam captum teneo, iam volucrem sequor te per gramina Martii campi, te per aquas, dure, volubilis.

Book 4, Poem 2

1Pindarum quisquis studet aemulari, Iulle, ceratis ope Daedalea nititur pennis vitreo daturus nomina ponto. monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres

6quem super notas aluere ripas, fervet inmensusque ruit profundo Pindarus ore, laurea donandus Apollinari, seu per audacis nova dithyrambos

11verba devolvit numerisque fertur lege solutis, seu deos regesque canit, deorum sanguinem, per quos cecidere iusta morte Centauri, cecidit tremendae

16flamma Chimaerae, sive quos Elea domum reducit palma caelestis pugilemve equomve dicit et centum potiore signis munere donat,

21flebili sponsae iuvenemve raptum plorat et viris animumque moresque aureos educit in astra nigroque invidet Orco. multa Dircaeum levat aura cycnum,

26tendit, Antoni, quotiens in altos nubium tractus: ego apis Matinae more modoque grata carpentis thyma per laborem plurimum circa nemus uvidique

31Tiburis ripas operosa parvos carmina fingo. concines maiore poeta plectro Caesarem, quandoque trahet ferocis per sacrum clivum merita decorus

36fronde Sygambros; quo nihil maius meliusve terris fata donavere bonique divi nec dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum tempora priscum.

41concines laetosque dies et urbis publicum ludum super inpetrato fortis Augusti reditu forumque litibus orbum. tum meae, si quid loquar audiendum,

46vocis accedet bona pars et “o sol pulcher, o laudande!” canam recepto Caesare felix. teque, dum procedis, “Io Triumphe” non semel dicemus, “Io Triumphe”

51civitas omnis dabimusque divis tura benignis. te decem tauri totidemque vaccae, me tener solvet vitulus, relicta matre qui largis iuvenescit herbis

56in mea vota, fronte curvatos imitatus ignis tertium lunae referentis ortum, qua notam duxit, niveus videri, cetera fulvos.

Book 4, Poem 3

1Quem tu, Melpomene, semel nascentem placido lumine videris, illum non labor Isthmius clarabit pugilem, non equos inpiger curru ducet Achaico

6victorem neque res bellica Deliis ornatum foliis ducem, quod regum tumidas contuderit minas, ostendet Capitolio: sed quae Tibur aquae fertile praefluunt

11et spissae nemorum comae fingent Aeolio carmine nobilem. Romae principis urbium dignatur suboles inter amabilis vatum ponere me choros

16et iam dente minus mordeor invido. o testudinis aureae dulcem quae strepitum, Pieri, temperas, o mutis quoque piscibus donatura cycni, si libeat, sonum,

21totum muneris hoc tui est, quod monstror digito praetereuntium Romanae fidicen lyrae: quod spiro et placeo, si placeo, tuum est.

Book 4, Poem 4

1Qualem ministrum fulminis alitem, cui rex deorum regnum in avis vagas permisit expertus fidelem Iuppiter in Ganymede flavo, olim iuventas et patrius vigor

6nido laborum propulit inscium, vernique iam nimbis remotis insolitos docuere nisus venti paventem, mox in ovilia demisit hostem vividus impetus,

11nunc in reluctantis dracones egit amor dapis atque pugnae; qualemve laetis caprea pascuis intenta fulvae matris ab ubere iam lacte depulsum leonem

16dente novo peritura vidit: videre Raetis bella sub Alpibus Drusum gerentem Vindelici. quibus mos unde deductus per omne tempus Amazonia securi

21dextras obarmet, quaerere distuli nec scire fas est omnia, sed diu lateque victrices catervae consiliis iuvenis revictae sensere, quid mens rite, quid indoles

26nutrita faustis sub penetralibus posset, quid Augusti paternus in pueros animus Nerones. fortes creantur fortibus et bonis: est in iuvencis, est in equis patrum

31virtus neque inbellem feroces progenerant aquilae columbam. doctrina sed vim promovet insitam rectique cultus pectora roborant; utcumque defecere mores,

36indecorant bene nata culpae. quid debeas, o Roma, Neronibus, testis Metaurum flumen et Hasdrubal devictus et pulcher fugatis ille dies Latio tenebris,

41qui primus alma risit adorea, dirus per urbis Afer ut Italas ceu flamma per taedas vel Eurus per Siculas equitavit undas. post hoc secundis usque laboribus

46Romana pubes crevit et inpio vastata Poenorum tumultu fana deos habuere rectos. dixitque tandem perfidus Hannibal: “cervi, luporum praeda rapacium,

51sectamur ultro quos opimus fallere et effugere est triumphus. gens, quae cremato fortis ab Ilio iactata Tuscis aequoribus sacra natosque maturosque patres

56pertulit Ausonias ad urbis, duris ut ilex tonsa bipennibus nigrae feraci frondis in Algido, per damna, per caedis ab ipso ducit opes animumque ferro.

61non hydra secto corpore firmior vinci dolentem crevit in Herculem monstrumve submisere Colchi maius Echioniaeve Thebae. merses profundo, pulchrior evenit;

66luctere, multa proruet integrum cum laude victorem geretque proelia coniugibus loquenda. Carthagini iam non ego nuntios mittam superbos: occidit, occidit

71spes omnis et fortuna nostri nominis Hasdrubale interempto. nil Claudiae non perficient manus, quas et benigno numine Iuppiter defendit et curae sagaces

76expediunt per acuta belli”.

Book 4, Poem 5

1Divis orte bonis, optume Romulae custos gentis, abes iam nimium diu; maturum reditum pollicitus patrum sancto concilio redi. lucem redde tuae, dux bone, patriae:

6instar veris enim voltus ubi tuus adfulsit populo, gratior it dies et soles melius nitent. ut mater iuvenem, quem Notus invido flatu Carpathii trans maris aequora

11cunctantem spatio longius annuo dulci distinet a domo, votis ominibusque et precibus vocat curvo nec faciem litore dimovet: sic desideriis icta fidelibus

16quaerit patria Caesarem. tutus bos etenim rura perambulat, nutrit rura Ceres almaque Faustitas, pacatum volitant per mare navitae; culpari metuit fides,

21nullis polluitur casta domus stupris, mos et lex maculosum edomuit nefas, laudantur simili prole puerperae, culpam poena premit comes. quis Parthum paveat, quis gelidum Scythen,

26quis Germania quos horrida parturit fetus incolumi Caesare? quis ferae bellum curet Hiberiae? condit quisque diem collibus in suis et vitem viduas ducit ad arbores;

31hinc ad vina redit laetus et alteris te mensis adhibet deum; te multa prece, te prosequitur mero defuso pateris et Laribus tuum miscet numen, uti Graecia Castoris

36et magni memor Herculis. “longas o utinam, dux bone, ferias praestes Hesperiae!” dicimus integro sicci mane die, dicimus uvidi, cum sol Oceano subest.

Book 4, Poem 6

1Dive, quem proles Niobea magnae vindicem linguae Tityosque raptor sensit et Troiae prope victor altae Pthius Achilles, ceteris maior, tibi miles inpar,

6filius quamvis Thetidis marinae Dardanas turris quateret tremenda cuspide pugnax— ille, mordaci velut icta ferro pinus aut inpulsa cupressus Euro,

11procidit late posuitque collum in pulvere Teucro; ille non inclusus equo Minervae sacra mentito male feriatos Troas et laetam Priami choreis

16falleret aulam, sed palam captis gravis, heu nefas, heu, nescios fari pueros Achivis ureret flammis, etiam latentem matris in alvo,

21ni tuis victus Venerisque gratae vocibus divum pater adnuisset rebus Aeneae potiore ductos alite muros. doctor argutae fidicen Thaliae

26Phoebe, qui Xantho lavis amne crinis, Dauniae defende decus Camenae, levis Agyieu. spiritum Phoebus, mihi Phoebus artem carminis nomenque dedit poetae.

31virginum primae puerique claris patribus orti, Deliae tutela deae, fugacis lyncas et cervos cohibentis arcu, Lesbium servate pedem meique

36pollicis ictum rite Latonae puerum canentes, rite crescentem face Noctilucam, prosperam frugum celeremque pronos volvere mensis.

41nupta iam dices “ego dis amicum saeculo festas referente luces reddidi carmen docilis modorum vatis Horati.”

Book 4, Poem 7

1Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis arboribusque comae; mutat terra vices et decrescentia ripas flumina praetereunt; Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet

6ducere nuda choros: inmortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum quae rapit hora diem. frigora mitescunt Zephyris, ver proterit aestas interitura, simul

11pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox bruma recurrit iners. damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae: nos ubi decidimus quo pius Aeneas, quo dives Tullus et Ancus,

16pulvis et umbra sumus. quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae tempora di superi? cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis amico quae dederis animo.

21cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos fecerit arbitria, non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te restituet pietas; infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum

26liberat Hippolytum nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro vincula Pirithoo.

Book 4, Poem 8

1Donarem pateras grataque commodus, Censorine, meis aera sodalibus, donarem tripodas, praemia fortium Graiorum, neque tu pessuma munerum ferres, divite me scilicet artium

6quas aut Parrhasius protulit aut Scopas, hic saxo, liquidis ille coloribus sollers nunc hominem ponere, nunc deum sed non haec mihi vis, nec tibi talium res est aut animus deliciarum egens.

11gaudes carminibus; carmina possumus donare et pretium dicere muneri. non incisa notis marmora publicis, per quae spiritus et vita redit bonis post mortem ducibus, non “celeres fugae

16reiectaeque retrorsum Hannibalis minae” non “incendia Karthaginis inpiae”, eius, “qui domita nomen ab Africa lucratus rediit”, clarius indicant laudes quam “Calabrae Pierides” neque,

21si chartae sileant quod bene feceris, mercedem tuleris. quid foret Iliae Mavortisque puer, si taciturnitas obstaret meritis invida Romuli? ereptum Stygiis fluctibus Aeacum

26virtus et favor et lingua potentium vatum divitibus consecrat insulis. dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori, caelo Musa beat. sic Iovis interest optatis epulis inpiger Hercules,

31clarum Tyndaridae sidus ab infimis quassas eripiunt aequoribus ratis, ornatus viridi tempora pampino Liber vota bonos ducit ad exitus.

Book 4, Poem 9

1Ne forte credas interitura quae longe sonantem natus ad Aufidum non ante volgatas per artis verba loquor socianda chordis: non, si priores Maeonius tenet

6sedes Homerus, Pindaricae latent Ceaeque et Alcaei minaces Stesichorique graves Camenae nec siquid olim lusit Anacreon delevit aetas; spirat adhuc amor

11vivuntque conmissi calores Aeoliae fidibus puellae. non sola comptos arsit adulteri crinis et aurum vestibus inlitum mirata regalisque cultus

16et comites Helene Lacaena primusve Teucer tela Cydonio direxit arcu; non semel Ilios vexata; non pugnavit ingens Idomeneus Sthenelusve solus

21dicenda Musis proelia; non ferox Hector vel acer Deiphobus gravis excepit ictus pro pudicis coniugibus puerisque primus. vixere fortes ante Agamemnona

26multi; sed omnes inlacrimabiles urgentur ignotique longa nocte, carent quia vate sacro. paullum sepultae distat inertiae celata virtus. non ego te meis

31chartis inornatum silebo, totve tuos patiar labores inpune, Lolli, carpere lividas obliviones. est animus tibi rerumque prudens et secundis

36temporibus dubiisque rectus, vindex avarae fraudis et abstinens ducentis ad se cuncta pecuniae, consulque non unius anni, sed quotiens bonus atque fidus

41iudex honestum praetulit utili, reiecit alto dona nocentium voltu, per obstantis catervas explicuit sua victor arma. non possidentem multa vocaveris

46recte beatum; rectius occupat nomen beati qui deorum muneribus sapienter uti duramque callet pauperiem pati peiusque leto flagitium timet,

51non ille pro caris amicis aut patria timidus perire.

Book 4, Poem 10

1O crudelis adhuc et Veneris muneribus potens,

2insperata tuae cum veniet pluma superbiae

3et, quae nunc umeris involitant, deciderint comae,

4nunc et qui color est puniceae flore prior rosae

5mutatus Ligurinum in faciem verterit hispidam,

6dices “heu,” quotiens te speculo videris alterum,

7“quae mens est hodie, cur eadem non puero fuit,

8vel cur his animis incolumes non redeunt genae?”

Book 4, Poem 11

1Est mihi nonum superantis annum plenus Albani cadus, est in horto, Phylli, nectendis apium coronis; est hederae vis multa, qua crinis religata fulges,

6ridet argento domus, ara castis vincta verbenis avet immolato spargier agno; cuncta festinat manus, huc et illuc cursitant mixtae pueris puellae,

11sordidum flammae trepidant rotantes vertice fumum. ut tamen noris, quibus advoceris gaudiis: Idus tibi sunt agendae, qui dies mensem Veneris marinae

16findit Aprilem, iure sollemnis mihi sanctiorque paene natali proprio, quod ex hac luce Maecenas meus adfluentis ordinat annos.

21Telephum, quem tu petis, occupavit non tuae sortis iuvenem puella dives et lasciva tenetque grata compede vinctum. terret ambustus Phaethon avaras

26spes et exemplum grave praebet ales Pegasus terrenum equitem gravatus Bellerophontem, semper ut te digna sequare et ultra quam licet sperare nefas putando

31disparem vites. age iam, meorum finis amorum, (non enim posthac alia calebo femina) condisce modos, amanda voce quos reddas: minuentur atrae

36carmine curae.

Book 4, Poem 12

1Iam veris comites, quae mare temperant, inpellunt animae lintea Thraciae, iam nec prata rigent nec fluvii strepunt hiberna nive turgidi. nidum ponit, Ityn flebiliter gemens,

6infelix avis et Cecropiae domus aeternum opprobrium, quod male barbaras regum est ulta libidines. dicunt in tenero gramine pinguium custodes ovium carmina fistula

11delectantque deum, cui pecus et nigri colles Arcadiae placent. adduxere sitim tempora, Vergili: sed pressum Calibus ducere Liberum si gestis, iuvenum nobilium cliens,

16nardo vina merebere. nardi parvus onyx eliciet cadum, qui nunc Sulpiciis adcubat horreis, spes donare novas largus amaraque curarum eluere efficax.

21ad quae si properas gaudia, cum tua velox merce veni: non ego te meis inmunem meditor tinguere poculis, plena dives ut in domo. verum pone moras et studium lucri

26nigrorumque memor, dum licet, ignium misce stultitiam consiliis brevem: dulce est desipere in loco.

Book 4, Poem 13

1Audivere, Lyce, di mea vota, di audivere, Lyce: fis anus et tamen vis formosa videri ludisque et bibis inpudens et cantu tremulo pota Cupidinem

6lentum sollicitas. ille virentis et doctae psallere Chiae pulcris excubat in genis. inportunus enim transvolat aridas quercus et refugit te quia luridi

11dentes, te quia rugae turpant et capitis nives. nec Coae referunt iam tibi purpurae nec cari lapides tempora, quae semel notis condita fastis

16inclusit volucris dies. quo fugit venus, heu, quove color, decens quo motus? quid habes illius, illius, quae spirabat amores, quae me surpuerat mihi

21felix post Cinaram notaque et artium gratarum facies? sed Cinarae brevis annos fata dederunt, servatura diu parem cornicis vetulae temporibus Lycen,

26possent ut iuvenes visere fervidi multo non sine risu dilapsam in cineres facem.

Book 4, Poem 14

1Quae cura patrum quaeve Quiritium plenis honorum muneribus tuas, Auguste, virtutes in aevum per titulos memoresque fastos aeternet, o, qua sol habitabilis

6inlustrat oras, maxime principum, quem legis expertes Latinae Vindelici didicere nuper quid Marte posses. milite nam tuo Drusus Genaunos, inplacidum genus,

11Breunosque velocis et arcis Alpibus inpositas tremendis deiecit acer plus vice simplici; maior Neronum mox grave proelium conmisit immanisque Raetos

16auspiciis pepulit secundis, spectandus in certamine Martio devota morti pectora liberae quantis fatigaret ruinis, indomitas prope qualis undas

21exercet Auster Pleiadum choro scindente nubis, inpiger hostium vexare turmas et frementem mittere equum medios per ignis. sic tauriformis volvitur Aufidus,

26qui regna Dauni praefluit Apuli, cum saevit horrendamque cultis diluviem meditatur agris, ut barbarorum Claudius agmina ferrata vasto diruit impetu

31primosque et extremos metendo stravit humum sine clade victor, te copias, te consilium et tuos praebente divos. nam tibi quo die portus Alexandrea supplex

36et vacuam patefecit aulam, Fortuna lustro prospera tertio belli secundos reddidit exitus laudemque et optatum peractis imperiis decus adrogavit.

41te Cantaber non ante domabilis Medusque et Indus, te profugus Scythes miratur, o tutela praesens Italiae dominaeque Romae. te fontium qui celat origines

46Nilusque et Hister, te rapidus Tigris, te beluosus qui remotis obstrepit Oceanus Britannis, te non paventis funera Galliae duraeque tellus audit Hiberiae,

51te caede gaudentes Sygambri conpositis venerantur armis.

Book 4, Poem 15

1Phoebus volentem proelia me loqui victas et urbis increpuit lyra, ne parva Tyrrhenum per aequor vela darem. tua, Caesar, aetas fruges et agris rettulit uberes

6et signa nostro restituit Iovi derepta Parthorum superbis postibus et vacuum duellis Ianum Quirini clausit et ordinem rectum evaganti frena licentiae

11iniecit emovitque culpas et veteres revocavit artis, per quas Latinum nomen et Italae crevere vires famaque et imperi porrecta maiestas ad ortus

16solis ab Hesperio cubili. custode rerum Caesare non furor civilis aut vis exiget otium, non ira, quae procudit ensis et miseras inimicat urbis.

21non qui profundum Danuvium bibunt edicta rumpent Iulia, non Getae, non Seres infidique Persae, non Tanain prope flumen orti. nosque et profestis lucibus et sacris

26inter iocosi munera Liberi cum prole matronisque nostris, rite deos prius adprecati, virtute functos more patrum duces Lydis remixto carmine tibiis

31Troiamque et Anchisen et almae progeniem Veneris canemus.