The Gods their kind protection yield,— Here from o'erflowing horn shall rise Here shalt thou to sweet vales retire, Here shalt thou drain the cooling wine Of temp'rate Lesbos' choicest vine, Nor dread th' enliv'ning bowl; Nor Semeleian Bacchus' rage Shall, in rude broils, fierce Mars engage, Nor rouse the madd'ning soul. EPODON LIBER.-CARMEN XV. AD NEERAM. Nox erat, et cœlo fulgebat Luna sereno Inter minora sidera; Cùm tu, magnorum numen læsura Deorum, In verba jurabas mea, Arctiús atque hederâ procera astringitur ilex, Dum pecori lupus, et nautis infestus Orion Intonsosque agitaret Apollinis aura capillos, O dolitura meâ multùm virtute, Neæra! Non feret assiduas potiori te dare noctes, Nec semel offensæ cedet constantia formæ, EPODE XV. TO NEERA. TWAS night! in the heavens the moon's silver beam Shone brightly, o'erpeering each star's 'minished gleam; When, insult how great! to the gods lightly shown, You swore, as the vow in fond accents I spoke, More closely around me your ling'ring arms thrown, Than ivy encircles the tall mountain's oak; Whilst the wolf rends the flock, whilst Orion's despight 'Gainst the sailor excites to wild fury the sea; Whilst the breeze 'midst Apollo's bright locks wantons light, So long should thy bosom beat only for me! |