QUINTI HORATII FLACCI

CARMINUM

LIBER PRIMUS.

ODE I.

AD MECENATEM.

MECENAS, atavis edite regibus,

O et præsidium, et dulce decus meum ! Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum Collegisse juvat: metaque fervidis Evitata rotis, palmaque nobilis Terrarum dominos evehit ad Deos. Hunc, si mobilium turba Quiritium Certat tergeminis tollere honoribus: Illum, si proprio condidit horreo Quidquid de Libycis verritur areis:

Gaudentem patrios findere sarculo
Agros Attalicis conditionibus
Nunquam dimoveas, ut trabe Cypriâ
Myrtoum, pavidus nauta, secet mare.
Luctantem Icariis fluctibus Africum

Mercator metuens, otium et oppidi
Laudat rura sui: mox reficit rates

THE ODES OF HORACE.

BOOK I.

M

ODE I.

TO MECENAS.

ÆCENAS, who from kings can'st boast descent,

My safe-guard and my sweetest ornament,

To some th' Olympic dust to raise is dear;

Whilst with the glowing wheel the goal to clear,
And win the noble palm, exalts them straight
Unto the Gods, this world who regulate.

To wear the triple honours one is proud,

Gain'd through the struggles of th' inconstant crowd;
Another, if within his barn he stores

All that is swept from Lybia's threshing-floors.
His father's acres who delights to plough,
Though you with wealth of Attalus endow,
A timid sailor, ne'er induced will be
With Cyprian keel to cut th' Egæan Sea.
When Afric's blasts upheave th' Icarian waves,
The frighted trader of his village raves,

It's fields and rest; but, want unused to bear,

Quassas, indocilis pauperiem pati.

Est qui nec veteris pocula Massici, Nec partem solido demere de die Spernit: nunc viridi membra sub arbuto Stratus, nunc ad aquæ lene caput sacræ.

Multos castra juvant, et lituo tubæ Permistus sonitus, bellaque matribus Detestata. Manet sub Jove frigido Venator, teneræ conjugis immemor, Seu visa est catulis cerva fidelibus, Seu rupit teretes Marsus aper plagas.

Me doctarum hederæ præmia frontium Dis miscent superis: me gelidum nemus, Nympharumque leves cum Satyris chori, Secernunt populo; si neque tibias Euterpe cohibet, nec Polyhymnia Lesboüm refugit tendere barbiton. Quod si me lyricis vatibus inseris, Sublimi feriam sidera vertice.

His shatter'd bark soon hastens to repair.
Some men to rob the day feel no disdain,
Nor cup of fine old Massican to drain :

Their limbs now stretching 'neath the arbute green,
Now, where the sacred stream's still source is seen.
Many in camps rejoice, and mingled strain

Of trump and horn, and war, the mother's bane.
The hunter, careless of his tender spouse,

If chance his well-train'd hounds the stag to rouse,
Or through his nets the Marsian wild-boar tear,
Remains from home, beneath the frosty air.
Me th' ivy crown, on learned brows display'd,
Ranks with the Gods: me the cool forest's shade,
Where Nymphs with Satyrs dance, a sprightly throng,
Draws from the world; if, whilst I tune my song,
Euterpe lend the music of her flute,

And Polyhymnia sound the Lesbian lute.

Class me but 'mongst the Lyric poets, I, With head sublime, shall strike the starry sky.

ODE II.

AD AUGUSTUM CÆSAREM.

AM satis terris nivis, atque diræ

JAM

Grandinis misit Pater; et rubente Dexterâ sacras jaculatus arces,

Terruit urbem,

Terruit gentes, grave ne rediret
Seculum Pyrrhæ nova monstra questæ ;
Omne cùm Proteus pecus egit altos
Visere montes;

Piscium et summâ genus hæsit ulmo,
Nota quæ sedes fuerat columbis;
Et superjecto pavidæ natârunt
Æquore damæ.

Vidimus flavum Tiberim, retortis
Littore Etrusco violenter undis,
Ire dejectum monumenta Regis,
Templaque Vestæ ;

Iliæ dum se nimiùm querenti

Jactat ultorem, vagus et sinistrâ

Labitur ripâ, Jove non probante, uxorius amnis.

Audiet cives acuisse ferrum,

Quo graves Persæ meliùs perirent;
Audiet pugnas, vitio parentum

Rara juventus.