ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS. He who is toss'd on dangerous seas, Nor friendly star: For ease the warlike Thracian longs, For ease the Mede his warlike songs Would change, but wealth soothes not the wrongs : Is with paternal heir-looms stored :- Keeps sleep aloof. Why to each climate should we race Flee from themselves? Scandit æratas vitiosa naves Cura: nec turmas equitum relinquit, Ocyor cervis, et agente nimbos Ocyor Euro. Lætus in præsens animus, quod ultra est Oderit curare; et amara lento Temperet risu. Nihil est ab omni Parte beatum. Abstulit clarum cita mors Achillem : Te greges centum, Siculæque circum Murice tinctæ Vestiunt lanæ mihi parva rura, et : Spiritum Graiæ tenuem Camœnæ Parca non mendax dedit, et malignum Spernere vulgus. Gaunt care can climb the stoutest ship, Or winds, which cause poor barks to slip Minds that in present bounty share, All earthly joy. Soon did grim death Achilles find; Time may, perchance, to me though kind, To thee prove coy. Around thee graze fat sheep and kine, A stately equipage is thine, In costly dress thou lov'st to shine, Of purple dye. For me, a small estate I use, Though poor, yet high. |