May Venus and Anchises' noble line,
Who ever honor you with oxen white,
To mercy towards a yielding foe incline,
All proud opposers smite.

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
Clarus Anchise Venerisque sanguis,
Imperet, bellante prior, jacentem
Lenis in hostem.

Jam mari terraque manus potentes
Medus Albanasque timet secures ;
Jam Scythæ responsa petunt superbi
Nuper et Indi.

Jam Fides et Pax et Honos Pudorque
Priscus et neglecta redire Virtus
Audet, apparetque beata pleno

Copia cornu.

Augur et fulgente decorus arcu
Phoebus acceptusque novem Camenis,

Qui salutari levat arte fessos
Corporis artus,

Si Palatinos videt æquus arces,

Remque Romanam Latiumque felix

Alterum in lustrum meliusque semper

Proroget ævum.

Quæque Aventinum tenet Algidumque,
Quindecim Diana preces virorum
Curet et votis puerorum amicas

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
'Midst great ships' towering pride?

Will you for Cæsar's sake all perils dare,
And all his dangers share?

What shall we do, who if you live are glad,
you die most sad?

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
Like men who veterans are?

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,
I, weak nor used to fight.

Know that when absent you inspire more fear
Than when as comrade near;

So fears a bird the callow brood she left

Shall be by serpents reft;

Yet might not she, nor I assistance bear
If haply present there.

And oh! how willingly I war would wage

EPODON LIBER.

Carmen I. AD MECENATEM.

Ibis Liburnis inter alta navium,
Amice, propugnacula,

Paratus omne Cæsaris periculum

Subire, Mæcenas, tuo.

Quid nos? quibus te vita si superstite
Jucunda, si contra, gravis.
"Utrumne jussi persequemur otium,
Non dulce, ni tecum simul,

An hunc laborem mente laturi, decet
-Qua ferre non molles viros?

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;
Ut assidens implumibus pullis avis
Serpentium allapsus timet
Magis relictis, non ut adsit, auxilî

Latura plus præsentibus.

Libenter hoc et omne militabitur

Could I your thanks engage:

Not that I would with many oxen now
Lands through your bounty plough,

Nor that my

flocks in spring, Calabria's sands

Change for Lucanian lands:

Nor would I my white villa should outvie
Your Tusculum on high.

Me has your bounty given enough and more;
I would not riches store

Like miser Chremes, in the deep earth placed,

Nor lose in thriftless waste.