And H, reeling from Pall-Mall,
Bids duns and bailiffs go to hell.
Then while the taper's waxen light

With friendly aid prolongs the night;
Let VENUS, and the Graces three,
Not over coy, nor yet too free,
Delight us, till the day advance,

With music, song, and sprightly dance;
And, dress'd in cheerfulness divine,
Inspire with wit the God of Wine.

Te Liber, et, si læta aderit, Venus,
Segnésque modum solvere Gratiæ,
Vivæque producent lucerna,

Dum rediens fugat astra Phœbus.

FRIZ

ODE XXXVIII. BOOK I.

RIZ me no more-I cannot bear

Mountains of powder on my hair,

And oceans of pomatum;

Let city prigs, or courtly beaus,
Wear the scarce bag, or scarcer rose,*
I will not, for I hate 'em.

Thus to be feather'd as an owl,

Or larded like a Gallic fowl,

For Englishmen is horrid!

Dress me no longer like a fop,

But bring my Scratch, whose Tyburn top Lies snug upon my forehead.

PERSICOS odi, puer, apparatus;
Displicent nexæ philyrâ coronæ :
Mitte sectari, rosa quò locorum

Sera moretur.

Simplici myrto nihil allabores

Sedulus curo: neque te ministrum

Dedecet myrtus, neque me sub arctâ

Vite bibentem.

* An appendage to the wig.

DIALOGUE

BETWEEN

HORACE AND LYDIA.

HORACE.

WHILE I, reclin❜d in thy fond faithful arms,

Enjoy'd without a rival all thy charms,

Bless'd in thy love, I wish'd not to be great,
Nor envy'd all the Persian Monarch's state!

ODE IX. LIB. 3.

Hor. DONEC gratus eram tibi,

Nec quisquam potior brachiâ candida

Cervici juvenis dabat;

Persarum vigui Rege beatior.

LYDIA.

When with delight thy LYDIA's voice was heard, Nor haughty CHLOE's charms to mine preferr'd; Rais'd high above her sex, thy LYDIA mov'd, Nor envy'd ILIA's fame, while HORACE lov'd.

HORACE.

Now CHLOE tunes my soul to soft desire,
Skill'd in the song, and mistress of the lyre;
For whom I'd suffer death, if fate would save
The fair survivor from th' untimely grave!

LYDIA.

The blooming CALAIS inflames my breast
With rapt'rous warmth, caressing and carest;

Lyd. Donec non aliâ magis

Arsisti, neque erat Lydia post Chloën;

Multi Lydia nominis

Romana vigui clarior Ilià.

Hor. Me nunc Cressa Chloë regit,

Dulces docta modos et citharæ sciens:

Pro qua non metuam mori,

Si parcent animæ fata superstiti.

Lyd. Me torret face mutuâ

Thurini Calais filius Or¤yti;

For whom I twice would suffer death with joy,
If Fate would spare the dear surviving boy!

HORACE.

What if our former loves return again,
And re-unite us in a firmer chain?

What if thy rival's short-lived empire cease,
And all our childish quarrels end in peace?

LYDIA.

Although my CALAIS is brighter far
Than the mild lustre of the morning star;

THOU, light as air, and fretful as the sea;

Yet my fond foolish heart would live and die with THEE!

Pro quo bis patiar mori,

Si parcent puero fata superstiti.

Hor. Quid si prisca redit Venus,
Diductósque jugo cogit aheneo?
Si flava excutitur Chloë,

Rejectæque patet janua Lydia?

Lyd. Quanquam sidere pulchrior

Ille est; tu levior cortice, et improbo

Iracundior Adria;

Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens.