And oozy Tyburs' fide,

Circéan Hills of Telegon,

A fpurious Parricide?

3. Forbear awhile, thy fplendid Dome, Ascending to the skies,

And much admired, happy, Rome, Smoak, hurry, wealth and noife; 4. From full faftidious pump retreat,

5.

A change, delightful to the great,
When, to fome humble cot they steal,
And without bloom, of Perfian loom,
They take the neat, but homely treat,
And wrinkled brow of care dilate,
O'er comfortable meal.
Androméds' Sire, betrays his ire
Occult, the dog inflames the sky,
And Prócyon with his fickning ray,
And madding lion fmite the day,

Hot, peftilential dry.

6. The shepherd and his languid sheep, The thickest shade together keep,

The lazy waters sleep,

No fanning breeze, 10 wave the trees,
Or wake the filent deep.

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25

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And smiles, when we o'er-anxious dread,

Beyond all a fenfe, ills over head,

Anticipating forrow;

9. The present day's thy only aim,
And calmly this difpofe,

a reafon.

45

The reft much like the Tibers' ftream,

The current ebbs, and flows,

Now gentle and within his bed,
Meandring through the flow'ry mead,
Glides to the Tuscan feas;

10. Anon, o'er-turbid in career,
He through the woodlands ftrays,
The forefts tore, the mountains roar,
The fwains, and cots, are fwept away,
Flocks, herds, one undiftinguifh'd prey,
When deluge, and the angry year,
Tormenting, placid rivers raife.
II. Lord of himself-that man fhall pass
In chearful life away,
Who to each fun's departing face,
Can fay, I've liv'd to day,

12. The next, let the Saturnian roll
Serene, in purest ray,

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55

60

65

Or, shake the firmamental Pole,

In fable clouded Majesty;

He can't undo, what's done,

He can't recall, what's come, and gone,

70

What, with the rapid hour's, once flown,

And fruftrate thee O fun.

13. An infolent, capricious Dame,

Still bufy fortune plies,

Pleas'd with her tupfy-turvy game,

'75

Transferring

14.

I love and praise her-while she stays,
*But if, fhe fluttering wings doth wave,
Refigning freely what she gave,
I lap me in my virtue warm,

And with no other dow'r,
I proud defy the vixen-storm,
In honeft merit poor.

15. What is't to me, if tempest roar,
The mainmast, and the rigging tore?
I need not hurry me to pray'r,
To bargain, with the Gods, to fpare
The Tyrian ware, and add no more,
Unto the greedy ocean's store,

Who've nothing out at sea,
Let merchant tremble in his bed,
Or, let the lending ufurer dread,
It roareth not to me.
16. Even then, in flender fkiff I'd fail,
And, madding-Bofphor, head,
Secure, in the tumultuous gale,
With double Polluxs' aid.

I.

"A

But if the shakes her flitting wings,
Refigning freely what the brings.

ODE XXX. To MEL PONENE.

Exegi monumentum ære perennius,
Regalique fitu, Pyramidum altius.
BOVE all Pyramids in height,
And regal Mausolèan state,

$5

9.

Out

a raging whirlwinds

Out-during, arts of labour'd brafs,
Shall ftand the monument, I raise,
2. Nor fretting pow'r of element,
Invidious fhall deface,
Nor Aquilonians, " impotent,
Shall shake the solid base.
3, Nor flitting round, of Ages roll'd
Through the immense of time untold,
Nor death, shall all abfuming, bear,
Great part of me, fhall scape the bier,'
Still blooming, with the ripening year,
Still recent, in fequacious praise,

4.

To fons of fons, remoteft days;

While e'er shall Capitol afcend

a

5

ΤΟ

15

a The Prieft and

The " Pontifex, and filent maid attend; lent&c.viz. Veftal.

5. Where, down Abrupts, impetuous bore,

The falling Aufid's torrents roar,

*

Where Daunt us held, (of feebler stream)
Saturnian sturdy fons, fupreme;

6. High princely, tho' of humble stem,

I first induced, th' Æolian Lyre,
And tuned to Latian moods, the wire;
By merit earn'd, affume my mufe,
7. A conscious pride-nor thou refuse,
The honors, due to just renown,
Melpomené, thy Delphic crown.

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The Father of Turnus, alfo the name of the Apulian River, weak in dry wea

END OF THE THIRD BOOK.

HY after long permitted ease,
O Venus, war again,

I.

Why Goddess, doft thou break the peace,
And urge me to a fresh campaign,
No champion as, in golden days,

Of Cynara's mild reign?

2. Hence-cruel Queen of fweet defires,
Forbear delufive wanton fires,
And spare at length thy fwain,

Nor prefs, with o'er-imperious hands
A heart, with many a wound impair'd,
In ten long* Luftres callous, hard

To bend to foft commands;

*Luftres. A term of five years.

Y

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