May Venus and Anchises' noble line, Fear of the Roman power on sea and land, And of the Alban axe the Parthians share; Scythians and Indians wait our dread command, Who late so boastful were. Now Faith, Peace, Honor, ancient Modesty, And e'en neglected Virtue dare return ; And rich Abundance visits Italy With overflowing horn. Bright Phoebus, prophet with the glittering bow, Dear to the Muses nine, whose healing skill Towards our ailing limbs shall ever flow, Our wishes now fulfil. Kindly regard in ages yet to come, Your temple reared upon Mount Aventine, Make happy Latium, and prosper Rome, Bid future ages shine. Diana, who on Algidus appear, And Aventine, your fifteen priests allow To gain their prayer and give a friendly ear To every young lad's vow. We, Phoebus and Diana's chorus, trained To sing their praise, home hopefully repair, Feeling that Jove and all the Gods have deigned To hear our chanted prayer. Quæque vos bobus veneratur albis Jam mari terraque manus potentes Jam Fides et Pax et Honos Pudorque Copia cornu. Augur et fulgente decorus arcu Qui salutari levat arte fessos Si Palatinos videt æquus arces, Remque Romanam Latiumque felix Alterum in lustrum meliusque semper Proroget ævum. Quæque Aventinum tenet Algidumque, Applicet aures. Hæc Jovem sentire Deosque cunctos, Spem bonam certamque domum reporto, Doctus et Phoebi chorus et Dianæ Dicere laudes. E PODES. Epode 1.-To MECENAS. Will you, my friend, Liburnian galleys guide Will you for Cæsar's sake all perils dare, What shall we do, who if you live are glad, And if Altho' you order, can we seek that ease Which but with you can please? Or shall we sternly brave the toils of war This shall be borne; Alps' crests be climbed by us, And savage Caucasus. You will I follow to the West's last sea, With breast from terror free. You ask why I your labour would make light, Know that when absent you inspire more fear So fears a bird the callow brood she left Shall be by serpents reft; Yet might not she, nor I assistance bear And oh! how willingly I war would wage EPODON LIBER. Carmen I. AD MECENATEM. Ibis Liburnis inter alta navium, Paratus omne Cæsaris periculum Subire, Mæcenas, tuo. Quid nos? quibus te vita si superstite An hunc laborem mente laturi, decet Feremus et te vel per Alpium juga, Inhospitalem et Caucasum, Vel Occidentis usque ad ultimum sinum, Forti sequemur pectore. Roges, tuum labore quid juvem meo, Imbellis ac firmus parum ? Comes minore sum futurus in metu, Qui major absentes habet; Latura plus præsentibus. Libenter hoc et omne militabitur Could I your thanks engage: Not that I would with many oxen now Nor that my flocks in spring, Calabria's sands Change for Lucanian lands: Nor would I my white villa should outvie Me has your bounty given enough and more; Like miser Chremes, in the deep earth placed, Nor lose in thriftless waste. |