Ode xx.-HE PROPHECIES HIS IMMORTALITY.

On pinions strange and strong
The liquid air I wing,

A two formed son of song

Above the earth I spring;

Past envy's reach, tho' lowly born,

And called Mæcenas' friend, mortality I scorn.

Cities I leave behind;

The Stygian waters me

I know shall never bind;

And plumed my fingers see,

My legs a roughened skin now wear,

With shoulders winged I soar a white bird through

the air.

Dædalian Icarus

Flew slower than this bird;

Seen by sad Bosphorus,

With song melodious heard:

Getulian Syrtes' lands far North,

Colchians and far Geloni see me flying forth.

The Dacians who pretend

The Marsian troops to fear,

And shrewd Ibernians bend

A glance as I appear:

And he who quaffs the Rhone's cold wave:

Then let all mournful songs be absent from my grave.

Carmen xx.-AD MECENATEM.

Non usitata nec tenui ferar

Penna biformis per liquidum æthera

Vates, neque in terris morabor
Longius invidiaque major

Urbes relinquam. Non ego pauperum Sanguis parentum, non ego, quem vocas, Dilecte, Mæcenas, obibo,

Nec Stygia, cohibebor unda.

Jam jam residunt cruribus asperæ
Pelles et album mutor in alitem

Superne, nascunturque leves

Per digitos humerosque pluma.

Jam Dædaleo ocior Icaro

Visam gementis litora Bospori

Syrtesque Gætulas canorus

Ales Hyperboreosque campos.

Me Colchus et qui dissimulat metum
Marsæ cohortis Dacus et ultimi

Noscent Geloni, me peritus

Discet Iber Rhodanique potor:

Complainings be supprest,

Unheard the voice of woe,

A tomb without a guest

Forbids your tears to flow:

Unprofitable clamours cease,

And let the empty ceremony pass in peace.

Absint inani funere neniæ

Luctusque turpes et querimoniæ; Compesce clamorem ac sepulchri Mitte supervacuos honores.

ODES.

BOOK III.

Ode I.

I hate and drive far far away the uninitiate throng : The poet is the Muse's priest, then listen to my song; I sing to youths and virgins things never heard before.

The subjects of tremendous kings may tremble and adore ;

Yet Jove rules all things by his nod, and kings confess the might

Of him, the giants' conqueror, illustrious in fight. One man may wider plant his trees, as greater his domain;

Or this a nobler candidate descend into the plain;
This man in fashion better, or glory may contend;
Or greater crowds of clients on another may depend;
But equally necessity doth govern high and low,
And forth in turn the spacious urn the lot of each
will throw.

For him who o'er his impious head saw hang the naked sword,

In vain delicious flavours will Sicilian feasts afford; Nor song of birds, nor harps' sweet tones bring slumber to their lord.