Liber IV. ODE II. AD ANTONIUM IULUM. Laudat Pindarum. PINDARUM quisquis studet æmulari, Iule, ceratis ope Dædaleâ Nititur pennis, vitreo daturus Nomina ponto. Monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres Quem super notas aluere ripas, Fervet, immensusque ruit profundo Pindarus ore; Laureâ donandus Apollinari, Seu per audaces nova dithyrambos Verba devolvit, numerisque fertur Lege solutis : Seu Deos, Regesque canit Deorum Flamma Chimæræ : Book IV. ODE II. TO ANTONIUS IULUS. HE who would rival Pindar's fame, And to some sea would give his name— A mark for fools. As mountain-stream, much swoll'n with rains, Gushes with rage o'er all the plains, So Pindar's lofty genius reigns O'er art's dull rules! Poetic child! the Muse his nurse Whether in dithyrambic verse, Or feet more daring, he rehearse His towering strain : Whether of gods the poet sings, Or (sprung from gods) those hero-kings, Who slew earth's monsters, arm'd with stings Fram'd for hot pain: Sive quos Elea domum reducit Munere donat: Flebili sponsæ juvenemve raptum Invidet Orco. Multa Dircæum levat aura cycnum, Nubium tractus. Ego apis Matinæ Grata carpentis thyma per laborem Tiburis ripas', operosa parvus Concines majore poeta plectro Per sacrum clivum, meritâ decorus Fronde, Sicambros : Quo nihil majus meliusve terris Fata donavere bonique Divi, Nec dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum Tempora priscum. It appears that Tibur possessed a shady grove: hence Horace says (book i. ode 7) Or, the proud victor he commends,— Or, youth deplores-just snatch'd away And virtuous name. When the Dircean swan would sail, His near approach: But I like some industrious bee Which hunts with care each flowery lea'Neath Tibur's shady canopy' 1 My verses broach. You sing, in poet's loftiest strain, In bonds were led : Cæsar, excell'd by none of yore ;— Boon worth what heaven has yet in store, E'en though the golden age once more 66 Its bliss should shed! seu densa tenebit Tiburis umbra tui." Concines lætosque dies, et urbis Litibus orbum. Tum meæ (si quid loquar audiendum) Vocis accedet bona pars: et, o Sol Pulcher, o laudande, canam, recepto Cæsare felix. Tuque dum procedis, Io triumphe, Te decem tauri totidemque vaccæ, Matre, qui largis juvenescit herbis In mea vota; Fronte curvatos imitatus ignes |