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Rebus angustis animosus atque
Fortis appare: sapienter idem
Contrahes vento nimium secundo

Turgida vela.

XI. AD QUINTIUM HIRPINUM.

Quid bellicosus Cantaber et Scythes,
Hirpine Quinti, cogitet, Hadria
Divisus objecto, remittas

Quaerere; nec trepides in usum

Poscentis aevi pauca. Fugit retro
Levis juventas et decor, arida
Pellente lascivos amores

Canitie, facilemque somnum.

Non semper idem floribus est honor
Vernis, neque uno Luna rubens nitet
Voltu: quid aeternis minorem

Consiliis animum fatigas ?

I

Why not, lying carelessly, even as now,
Whether under tall plane-tree or under this pine,
With roses perfuming our tresses of snow,
And anointing ourselves with Assyrian nardine,

Why not drink while we may? no disperser like liquor
Of cankering care. Which boy there will chill
These goblets of fiery Falernian quicker,
Immersing them under yon running stream's rill?

Which will lure from home Lyde, that naughty recluse?
Away: bid her come with her ivory lute,
And make haste, and not mind though her hair be all loose:
A plain knot, Spartan fashion, will very well suit.

Licymnia is supposed to be another name for Terentia, the beautiful

wife of Maecenas.

To my cithern's soft music desire not of me,
That I set the long tale of Numantia's fierce war;
Or of Annibal dire, or Sicilian sea
Empurpled with dark Carthaginian gore:
Or of Lapithae cruel, or over-indulgent
Hylaeus in wine, or those youths whom the might
Of Alcides subdued, that earth-brood who the fulgent
Abode of old Saturn o’erwhelmed with affright.
Thee, rather, in sober historical strains
Of narrating, Maecenas, the office befits,
Caesar's battles, and menacing monarchs in chains
Triumphantly dragged by the neck through our streets.
Cur non sub alta vel platano vel hac
Pinu jacentes sic temere, et rosa
Canos odorati capillos,

Dum licet, Assyriaque nardo

Potamus uncti? Dissipat Euius
Curas edaces. Quis puer ocius
Restinguet ardentis Falerni

Pocula praetereunte lympha ?

Quis devium scortum eliciet domo
Lyden? Eburna, dic age, cum lyra
Maturet, in comptum Lacaenae

More comas religata nodum.

XII. AD MAECENATEM.

Nolis longa ferae bella Numantiae,
Nec dirum Hannibalem, nec Siculum mare
Poeno purpureum sanguine, mollibus

Aptari citharae modis;
Nec saevos Lapithas, et nimium mero
Hylaeum, domitosque Herculea manu
Telluris juvenes, unde periculum

Fulgens contremuit domus
Saturni veteris. Tuque pedestribus
Dices historiis proelia Caesaris,
Maecenas, me ius, ductaque per vias

Regum colla minacium.

Me, the gentle Muse bids that I take as my theme
My lady Licymnia : bids me approve
Her eyes that with fulgent lucidity stream,
Her bosom responsive to mutual love.
To bear step in the dance is to her no disgrace,
Nor in contest of wit to take part, or in play
Wherein hers with the arms of fair maidens enlace
On far-famed Diana's high festival day.
One hair of Licymnia's would you exchange
For all rich Achaemenes ever possess’d,
All Mygdonian wealth within Phrygian range,
All the full magazines with which Arabs are bless'd ?
While her neck, to the feverish kisses you lavish,
She bends; or, with witching austereness, denies
What she gladlier would that the asker should ravish,
And in ravishing which she herself at times vies.

Horace seems to have been deeply impressed by his escape from a

falling tree. He repeatedly alludes to it.

Both evil day was that, o tree, when first,
Whoe'er 'twas, planted thee; and hand accurst

That reared our hamlet's shame in thee,

And mischief to posterity.
That he his father strangled I must still
Believe, and that his inner domicile

He with guest's blood at night bespattered.
He Colchian poisons must have catered,

Me dulces dominae Musa Licymniae
Cantus, me voluit dicere lucidum
Fulgentes oculos, et bene mutuis

Fidum pectus amoribus;
Quam nec ferre pedem dedecuit choris,
Nec certare joco, nec dare brachia
Ludentem nitidis virginibus, sacro

Dianae celebris die. Num tu, quae tenuit dives Achaemenes, Aut pinguis Phrygiae Mygdonias opes, Permutare velis crine Licymniae,

Plenas aut Arabum domos? Dum flagrantia detorquet ad oscula Cervicem, aut facili saevitia negat, Quae poscente magis gaudeat eripi,

Interdum rapere occupet.

XIII. IN ARBOREM.

Ille et nefasto te posuit die, Quicunque primum, et sacrilegá manu Produxit, arbos, in nepotum

Perniciem, opprobriumque pagi. Illum et parentis crediderim sui Fregisse cervicem, et penetralia Sparsisse nocturno cruore

Hospitis. Ille venena Colchica,

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