ODE XIII.

TO LYDIA.

HE rosy neck of Telephus, the arms

THE

Wax-like of Telephus, to hear you dwell, Ah! me, with rapture, Lydia, on their charms,

With fierce bile makes my burning liver swell.
My mind gives way, my colour comes and goes,
Then too adown my cheek steals furtively
Th' unbidden tear, by smould'ring fires which shows
To softness how I'm melted inwardly.

I burn with rage if he your shoulders white
In strife has bruised, of self-control bereft
By too much wine; or if, mad boy, his bite
Upon your lip a lasting mark has left.
Indulge you cannot, if you hear me well,

The hope that he will constant be, who, rude,
Can wound your kisses sweet, by Venus' spell
With her own nectar's quintessence imbued.
Thrice happy they, and more than thrice, whom binds
A lasting tie, and love, without decay

From sad complainings, still united finds,
And loosens only at life's latest day.

ODE XIV.

AD REMPUBLICAM.

NAVIS, referent in mare te novi

Fluctus. O quid agis? fortiter occupa Portum. Nonne vides, ut

Nudum remigio latus,

Et malus celeri saucius Africo,

Antennæque gemant? ac sine funibus

Vix durare carinæ

Possint imperiosius

Equor? non tibi sunt integra lintea;
Non Dî, quos iterum pressa voces malo;
Quamvis Pontica pinus,

Sylvæ filia nobilis,

Jactes et genus, et nomen inutile;

Nil pictis timidus navita puppibus
Fidit. Tu, nisi ventis

Debes ludibrium, cave.

Nuper solicitum quæ mihi tædium,
Nunc desiderium, curaque non levis,
Interfusa nitentes

Vites æquora Cycladas.

ODE XIV.

TO THE COMMONWEALTH.

SHIP! fresh waves will bear thee out to sea once

more.

What would'st thou do? Fast keep within the harbour bar. Dost thou not see of every oar

Thy sides denuded are;

Thy mast how damaged by blast of the swift south wind; Not hear thy sail-yards groan? Not know thou scarce could'st brave,

Unless thy keel did cordage bind,

The ocean's mightier wave?

Thy sails are not unrent, no Gods are left to thee,
Their aid should'st thou invoke, by danger driven wild ;
Although of Pontus a pine tree,

A noble forest's child,

Thou of thy ancestry should'st boast, and useless name.
The timid sailor puts in painted poops no trust.
Then, would'st not of the winds the game
Become, take heed thou must.

Thou who to me the cause of anxious pain hast been,
Now, object of my love, and care a bar to ease,

Avoid the sea that flows between

The shining Cyclades.

ODE XV.

NEREI VATICINIUM.

ASTOR cùm traheret per freta navibus
Idæis Helenam perfidus hospitam,

Ingrato celeres obruit otio

Ventos, ut caneret fera

Nereus fata.

Maltâ ducis-avi domum,

Quam multo repetet Græcia milite,
Conjurata tuas rumpere nuptias,
Et regnum Priami vetus.

Eheu, quantus equis, quantus adest viris
Sudor! quanta moves funera Dardane
Genti! Jam galeam Pallas, et ægida,
Currusque, et rabiem parat.
Nequicquam Veneris præsidio ferox,
Pectes cæsariem; grataque fœminis
Imbelli citharâ carmina divides:
Nequicquam thalamo graves
Hastas, et calami spicula Gnossii
Vitabis, strepitumque, et celerem sequi
Ajacem. Tamen, heu! serus adulteros
Crines pulvere collines.

Non Laërtiaden, exitium tuæ

Gentis, non Pylium Nestora respicis?

Urgent impavidi te Salaminius

Teucer, te Sthenelus sciens

ODE XV.

PROPHECY OF NEREUS.

HE Shepherd when in barks Idæan o'er the main

ΤΗ
THis hostess

His hostess Helen he perfidiously would take, Nereus, in calm unwish'd the swift winds did restrain,

While thus of portents dire he spake :

"Dread omen waits on thee who home conveyest her, Whom Greece to have restored with legions vast will seek, Asunder, bound by vow, thy nuptial ties to tear,

And Priam's ancient kingdom break.

"Alas, what sweat of steeds, of men, thy conduct through ! What slaughter wilt thou cause the Dardan nation bear! Her helmet, and her car and shield, her fury too,

Already Pallas 'gins prepare.

"In vain shalt thou, made bold by Venus' guardian care,
Thy tresses comb, and with songs sweet to woman's ear
Thy lute's unwarlike strains in change alternate share.
In vain shalt 'scape the heavy spear

"And Gnossian pointed reed, the battle's noisy roar,
And Ajax' quick pursuit, within thy chamber laid.
The time will come when thou, adulterer, shalt deplore
Thy locks with dust all filthy made.

"Can'st not Laertes' son, unto thy nation's life

Its death-blow doom'd to cause, not Pylian Nestor see? Teucer of Salamis, and Stenelus, in strife

Of battle versed, or, if need be,