Complete Works of Horace (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics)

by Horace Quintus Horatius Flaccus

  XVI

  O matre pulchra filia pulchrior,

  quem criminosis cumque uoles modum

  pones iambis, siue flamma

  siue mari libet Hadriano.

  Non Dindymene, non adytis quatit 5

  mentem sacerdotum incola Pythius,

  non Liber aeque, non acuta

  sic geminant Corybantes aera,

  tristes ut irae, quas neque Noricus

  deterret ensis nec mare naufragum 10

  nec saeuus ignis nec tremendo

  Iuppiter ipse ruens tumultu.

  Fertur Prometheus addere principi

  limo coactus particulam undique

  desectam et insani leonis

  uim stomacho apposuisse nostro. 15

  Irae Thyesten exitio graui

  strauere et altis urbibus ultimae

  stetere causae, cur perirent

  funditus inprimeretque muris 20

  hostile aratrum exercitus insolens.

  Conpesce mentem: me quoque pectoris

  temptauit in dulci iuuenta

  feruor et in celeres iambos

  misit furentem. Nunc ego mitibus 25

  mutare quaero tristia, dum mihi

  fias recantatis amica

  opprobriis animumque reddas.

  ODE XVI.

  TO A YOUNG LADY HORACE HAD OFFENDED.

  O daughter, more charming than your charming mother, put what end you please to my insulting iambics; either in the flames, or, if you choose it, in the Adriatic. Nor Cybele, nor Apollo, the dweller in the shrines, so shakes the breast of his priests; Bacchus does not do it equally, nor do the Corybantes so redouble their strokes on the sharp-sounding cymbals, as direful anger; which neither the Noric sword can deter, nor the shipwrecking sea, nor dreadful fire, not Jupiter himself rushing down with awful crash. It is reported that Prometheus was obliged to add to that original clay [with which he formed mankind], some ingredient taken from every animal, and that he applied the vehemence of the raging lion to the human breast. It was rage that destroyed Thyestes with horrible perdition; and has been the final cause that lofty cities have been entirely demolished, and that an insolent army has driven the hostile plowshare over their walls. Compose your mind. An ardor of soul attacked me also in blooming youth, and drove me in a rage to the writing of swift-footed iambics. Now I am desirous of exchanging severity for good nature, provided that you will become my friend, after my having recanted my abuse, and restore me your affections.

  XVII

  Velox amoenum saepe Lucretilem

  mutat Lycaeo Faunus et igneam

  defendit aestatem capellis

  usque meis pluuiosque uentos.

  Inpune tutum per nemus arbutos 5

  quaerunt latentis et thyma deuiae

  olentis uxores mariti

  nec uiridis metuunt colubras

  nec Martialis haediliae lupos,

  utcumque dulci, Tyndari, fistula 10

  ualles et Vsticae cubantis

  leuia personuere saxa.

  Di me tuentur, dis pietas mea

  et Musa cordi est. Hic tibi copia

  manabit ad plenum benigno

  ruris honorum opulenta cornu; 15

  hic in reducta ualle Caniculae

  uitabis aestus et fide Teia

  dices laborantis in uno

  Penelopen uitreamque Circen; 20

  hic innocentis pocula Lesbii

  duces sub umbra nec Semeleius

  cum Marte confundet Thyoneus

  proelia nec metues proteruum

  suspecta Cyrum, ne male dispari 25

  incontinentis iniciat manus

  et scindat haerentem coronam

  crinibus inmeritamque uestem.

  ODE XVII.

  TO TYNDARIS.

  The nimble Faunus often exchanges the Lycaean mountain for the pleasant Lucretilis, and always defends my she-goats from the scorching summer, and the rainy winds. The wandering wives of the unsavory husband seek the hidden strawberry-trees and thyme with security through the safe grove: nor do the kids dread the green lizards, or the wolves sacred to Mars; whenever, my Tyndaris, the vales and the smooth rocks of the sloping Ustica have resounded with his melodious pipe. The gods are my protectors. My piety and my muse are agreeable to the gods. Here plenty, rich with rural honors, shall flow to you, with her generous horn filled to the brim. Here, in a sequestered vale, you shall avoid the heat of the dog-star; and, on your Anacreontic harp, sing of Penelope and the frail Circe striving for one lover; here you shall quaff, under the shade, cups of unintoxicating Lesbian. Nor shall the raging son of Semele enter the combat with Mars; and unsuspected you shall not fear the insolent Cyrus, lest he should savagely lay his intemperate hands on you, who are by no means a match for him; and should rend the chaplet that is platted in your hair, and your inoffensive garment.

  XVIII

  Nullam, Vare, sacra uite prius seueris arborem

  circa mite solum Tiburis et moenia Catili;

  siccis omnia nam dura deus proposuit neque

  mordaces aliter diffugiunt sollicitudines.

  Quis post uina grauem militiam aut pauperiem crepat? 5

  Quis non te potius, Bacche pater, teque decens Venus?

  Ac ne quis modici transiliat munera Liberi,

  Centaurea monet cum Lapithis rixa super mero

  debellata, monet Sithoniis non leuis Euhius,

  cum fas atque nefas exiguo fine libidinum 10

  discernunt auidi. Non ego te, candide Bassareu,

  inuitum quatiam nec uariis obsita frondibus

  sub diuum rapiam. Saeua tene cum Berecyntio

  cornu tympana, quae subsequitur caecus amor sui

  et tollens uacuum plus nimio gloria uerticem 15

  arcanique fides prodiga, perlucidior uitro.

  ODE XVIII.

  TO VARUS.

  O Varus, you can plant no tree preferable to the sacred vine, about the mellow soil of Tibur, and the walls of Catilus. For God hath rendered every thing cross to the sober; nor do biting cares disperse any otherwise [than by the use of wine]. Who, after wine, complains of the hardships of war or of poverty? Who does not rather [celebrate] thee, Father Bacchus, and thee, comely Venus? Nevertheless, the battle of the Centaurs with the Lapithae, which was fought in their cups, admonishes us not to exceed a moderate use of the gifts of Bacchus. And Bacchus himself admonishes us in his severity to the Thracians; when greedy to satisfy their lusts, they make little distinction between right and wrong. O beauteous Bacchus, I will not rouse thee against thy will, nor will I hurry abroad thy [mysteries, which are] covered with various leaves. Cease your dire cymbals, together with your Phrygian horn, whose followers are blind Self-love and Arrogance, holding up too high her empty head, and the Faith communicative of secrets, and more transparent than glass.

  XIX

  Mater saeua Cupidinum

  Thebanaeque iubet me Semelae puer

  et lasciua Licentia

  finitis animum reddere amoribus.

  Vrit me Glycerae nitor 5

  splendentis Pario marmore purius;

  urit grata proteruitas

  et uoltus nimium lubricus aspici.

  In me tota ruens Venus

  Cyprum deseruit, nec patitur Scythas 10

  aut uersis animosum equis

  Parthum dicere nec quae nihil attinent.

  Hic uiuum mihi caespitem, hic

  uerbenas, pueri, ponite turaque

  bimi cum patera meri:

  mactata ueniet lenior hostia. 15

  ODE XIX.

  TO GLYCERA.

  The cruel mother of the Cupids, and the son of the Theban Gemele, and lascivious ease, command me to give back my mind to its deserted loves. The splendor of Glycera, shining brighter than the Parian marble, inflames me: her agreeable petulance, and her countenance, too unsteady to be beheld, inflame me. Venus, rushing on me with her whole force, has quitted Cyprus; and suffers me not to sing of the Scythians, and the Parthian, furious when his horse is turned for flig
ht, or any subject which is not to the present purpose. Here, slaves, place me a live turf; here, place me vervains and frankincense, with a flagon of two-year-old wine. She will approach more propitious, after a victim has been sacrificed.

  XX

  Vile potabis modicis Sabinum

  cantharis, Graeca quod ego ipse testa

  conditum leui, datus in theatro

  cum tibi plausus,

  care Maecenas eques, ut paterni 5

  fluminis ripae simul et iocosa

  redderet laudes tibi Vaticani

  montis imago.

  Caecubum et prelo domitam Caleno

  tu bibes uuam; mea nec Falernae 10

  temperant uites neque Formiani

  pocula colles.

  ODE XX.

  TO MAECENAS.

  My dear knight Maecenas, you shall drink [at my house] ignoble Sabine wine in sober cups, which I myself sealed up in the Grecian cask, stored at the time, when so loud an applause was given to you in the amphitheatre, that the banks of your ancestral river, together with the cheerful echo of the Vatican mountain, returned your praises. You [when you are at home] will drink the Caecuban, and the grape which is squeezed in the Calenian press; but neither the Falernian vines, nor the Formian hills, season my cups.

  XXI

  Dianam tenerae dicite uirgines,

  intonsum, pueri, dicite Cynthium

  Latonamque supremo

  dilectam penitus Ioui;

  uos laetam fluuiis et nemorum coma, 5

  quaecumque aut gelido prominet Algido,

  nigris aut Erymanthi

  siluis aut uiridis Gragi;

  uos Tempe totidem tollite laudibus

  natalemque, mares, Delon Apollinis 10

  insignemque pharetra

  fraternaque umerum lyra.

  Hic bellum lacrimosum, hic miseram famem

  pestemque a populo et principe Caesare in

  Persas atque Britannos

  uestra motus aget prece. 15

  ODE XXI.

  ON DIANA AND APOLLO.

  Ye tender virgins, sing Diana; ye boys, sing Apollo with his unshorn hair, and Latona passionately beloved by the supreme Jupiter. Ye (virgins), praise her that rejoices in the rivers, and the thick groves, which project either from the cold Algidus, or the gloomy woods of Erymanthus, or the green Cragus. Ye boys, extol with equal praises Apollo’s Delos, and his shoulder adorned with a quiver, and with his brother Mercury’s lyre. He, moved by your intercession, shall drive away calamitous war, and miserable famine, and the plague from the Roman people and their sovereign Caesar, to the Persians and the Britons.

  XXII

  Integer uitae scelerisque purus

  non eget Mauris iaculis neque arcu

  nec uenenatis grauida sagittis,

  Fusce, pharetra,

  siue per Syrtis iter aestuosas 5

  siue facturus per inhospitalem

  Caucasum uel quae loca fabulosus

  lambit Hydaspes.

  Namque me silua lupus in Sabina,

  dum meam canto Lalagem et ultra 10

  terminum curis uagor expeditis,

  fugit inermem,

  quale portentum neque militaris

  Daunias latis alit aesculetis

  nec Iubae tellus generat, leonum 15

  arida nutrix.

  Pone me pigris ubi nulla campis

  arbor aestiua recreatur aura,

  quod latus mundi nebulae malusque

  Iuppiter urget; 20

  pone sub curru nimium propinqui

  solis in terra domibus negata:

  dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,

  dulce loquentem.

  ODE XXII.

  TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS.

  The man of upright life and pure from wickedness, O Fuscus, has no need of the Moorish javelins, or bow, or quiver loaded with poisoned darts. Whether he is about to make his journey through the sultry Syrtes, or the inhospitable Caucasus, or those places which Hydaspes, celebrated in story, washes. For lately, as I was singing my Lalage, and wandered beyond my usual bounds, devoid of care, a wolf in the Sabine wood fled from me, though I was unarmed: such a monster as neither the warlike Apulia nourishes in its extensive woods, nor the land of Juba, the dry-nurse of lions, produces. Place me in those barren plains, where no tree is refreshed by the genial air; at that part of the world, which clouds and an inclement atmosphere infest. Place me under the chariot of the too neighboring sun, in a land deprived of habitations; [there] will I love my sweetly-smiling, sweetly-speaking Lalage.

  XXIII

  Vitas inuleo me similis, Chloe,

  quaerenti pauidam montibus auiis

  matrem non sine uano

  aurarum et siluae metu.

  Nam seu mobilibus ueris inhorruit 5

  aduentus folliis, seu uirides rubum

  dimouere lacertae,

  et corde et genibus tremit.

  Atqui non ego te, tigris ut aspera

  Gaetulusue leo, frangere persequor: 10

  tandem desine matrem

  tempestiua sequi uiro.

  ODE XXIII.

  TO CHLOE.

  You shun me, Chloe, like a fawn that is seeking its timorous mother in the pathless mountains, not without a vain dread of the breezes and the thickets: for she trembles both in her heart and knees, whether the arrival of the spring has terrified by its rustling leaves, or the green lizards have stirred the bush. But I do not follow you, like a savage tigress, or a Gaetulian lion, to tear you to pieces. Therefore, quit your mother, now that you are mature for a husband.

  XXIV

  Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus

  tam cari capitis? Praecipe lugubris

  cantus, Melpomene, cui liquidam pater

  uocem cum cithara dedit.

  Ergo Quintilium perpetuus sopor 5

  urget? Cui Pudor et Iustitiae soror,

  incorrupta Fides, nudaque Veritas

  quando ullum inueniet parem?

  Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit,

  nulli flebilior quam tibi, Vergili. 10

  Tu frustra pius, heu, non ita creditum

  poscis Quintilium deos.

  Quid si Threicio blandius Orpheo

  auditam moderere arboribus fidem?

  Num uanae redeat sanguis imagini, 15

  quam uirga semel horrida,

  non lenis precibus fata recludere,

  nigro compulerit Mercurius gregi?

  durum: sed leuius fit patientia

  quicquid corrigere est nefas. 20

  ODE XXIV.

  TO VIRGIL.

  What shame or bound can there be to our affectionate regret for so dear a person? O Melpomene, on whom your father has bestowed a clear voice and the harp, teach me the mournful strains. Does then perpetual sleep oppress Quinctilius? To whom when will modesty, and uncorrupt faith the sister of Justice, and undisguised truth, find any equal? He died lamented by many good men, but more lamented by none than by you, my Virgil. You, though pious, alas! in vain demand Quinctilius back from the gods, who did not lend him to us on such terms. What, though you could strike the lyre, listened to by the trees, with more sweetness than the Thracian Orpheus; yet the blood can never return to the empty shade, which Mercury, inexorable to reverse the fates, has with his dreadful Caduceus once driven to the gloomy throng. This is hard: but what it is out of our power to amend, becomes more supportable by patience.

  XXV

  Parcius iunctas quatiunt fenestras

  iactibus crebris iuuenes proterui

  nec tibi somnos adimunt amatque

  ianua limen,

  quae prius multum facilis mouebat 5

  cardines. Audis minus et minus iam:

  ‘Me tuo longas pereunte noctes,

  Lydia, dormis?’

  Inuicem moechos anus arrogantis

  flebis in solo leuis angiportu 10