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N dedication of Apollo's shrine
What asks the bard? What prays for, as he pours From out his patera the new-made wine?
Not rich Sardinia's vast corn stores;
Not hot Calabria's herds of choicest breed ;
Not Indian ivory nor gold's display ;
Not lands, though flows its stream with gentle speed,
The noiseless Liris wears away.
Let him whose fortune 'tis to own a vine
Prune it with his Calenian knife; and let
Rich merchants drink from golden cups the wine
In change for Syrian goods they get,
Dear to the Gods themselves, since in each year
Unharm'd they visit the Atlantic sea
Three times or four. The olive is
The mallow soft and chicory.
Health and an understanding sound grant me
My gains, Latous, to enjoy, I pray;
And let not my old age dishonour'd be,
Nor want a lyre on which to play.
POSCIMUR.-Si quid vacui sub umbrân
Lusimus tecum, quod et hunc in annum Vivat, et plures; age, dic Latinum,
Lesbio primùm modulate civi:
Qui ferox bello, tamen inter arma,
Sive jactatam religârat udo
Liberum, et Musas, Veneremque, et illi
Semper hærentem puerum canebat;
Et Lycum, nigris oculis nigroque
O decus Phoebi, et dapibus supremi
Grata testudo Jovis, o laborum
Dulce lenimen, mihi cunque salve
E'RE called upon. If, idling 'neath the shade,
Aught through this year may live, and many long Survive, we have, O lyre, together play'd,
Come tune a Latin song.
Thy cords a man of Lesbos first did sound,
Who fierce in war, yet 'tween the battle's roar,
Or when the anchor his toss'd ship had bound
Fast to the wet sea-shore,
Would sing of Liber and the Muses nine,
Of Venus and the boy who aye is where
She is, and Lycus charming with his eyne
So black and his black hair.
O Shell, Apollo's choicest ornament,
At feasts of Jove supreme with pleasure heard,
O, toil's sweet balm, to grant my prayer consent
If properly preferr'd.
LBI, ne doleas plus nimio, memor
Immitis Glyceræ: neu miserabiles Decantes elegos, cur tibi junior
Læsâ præniteat fide.
Insignem tenui fronte Lycorida
Cyri torret amor : Cyrus in asperam
Declinat Pholoën. Sed priùs Apulis
Jungentur capreæ lupis,
Quàm turpi Pholoë peccet adultero.
Sic visum Veneri ; cui placet impares
Formas atque animos sub juga ahenea
Sævo mittere cum joco.
Ipsum me melior cùm peteret Venus
Gratâ detinuit compede Myrtale
Libertina, fretis acrior Adriæ
Curvantis Calabros sinus.
HOU should'st not, Albius, thy fate o'ermuch
At thought that cruel Glycera has jilted thee,
Nor sing sad songs because a younger lover more
Attractive proves to be.
Famed for her forehead low, Lycoris Cyrus loves
With a consuming flame, while to coy Pholoë
Cyrus inclines. But mated with Apulian wolves
She-goats shall sooner be
Than she with such a base adulterer shall sin.
Such Venus' will, compelling 'neath a brazen yoke
Ill suited forms and minds to live, delighting in
The malice of her joke.
A better Venus once me woo'd, but Myrtale,
Freed woman, held me chain'd by her bewitching ways,
Though wilder than the waves of th' Adriatic sea
That scoop Calabria's bays.