Obrázky na stránke


The needy husbandman besieges thee
With anxious prayers : as mistress of the sea,

So do whoe'er with Thynian prow

The plain of the Carpathian plough. Thee Dacian rude, and Scythian wanderer, Cities and nations, and fierce Latium fear;

Tyrants in purple dizenings,

And mothers of barbarian kings.
Do not with harmful foot the stable pile
O'erthrow, and let not popular turmoil

To arms, to arms, the weary wake

And our imperial fabric break. Thee, aye precedes Necessity austere, Whose brazen hands huge spikes and wedges bear :

Neither is absent thence the dread

Hook'd iron clamp or molten lead.
On thee wait Hope and rare Fidelity,
White robed, and shunning not thy company,

E'en though, with vestment changed, in ire,

From wealthy mansions thou retire.
But faithless sycophant and perjured wench
Draw back, and crafty boon-companions wrench

Aside their pledges' yoke, and fly

When to the lees the cask is dry.
Preserve thou Caesar, for Britannia's coast-
Earth's farthest-starting, and the youthful host

Newly enrolled to carry dread

To Eastern parts and Ocean Red.
Ah! for my brethren's guilty scars I blush.
Whither forbears this hardened age to rush?

Te pauper ambit sollicita prece
Ruris colonus; te dominam aequoris,
Quicunque Bithyna lacessit

Carpathium pelagus carina.
Te Dacus asper, te profugi Scythae
Urbesque gentesque et Latium ferox,
Regumque matres barbarorum, et

Purpurei metuunt tyranni,
Injurioso ne pede proruas
Stantem columnam, neu populus frequens
Ad arma cessantes, ad arma

Concitet, imperiumque frangat. Te semper anteit saeva Necessitas Clavos trabales et cuneos manu Gestans aëna : nec severus

Uncus abest, liquidumque plumbum.
Te Spes et albo rara Fides colit
Velata panno, nec comitem abnegat,
Utcunque mutata potentes

Veste domos inimica linquis.
At volgus infidum et meretrix retro
Perjura cedit; diffugiunt cadis
Cum faece siccatis amici

Ferre jugum pariter dolosi.
Serves iturum Caesarem in ultimos
Orbis Britannos, et juvenum recens
Examen Eois timendum

Partibus, Oceanoque rubro.
Eheu! cicatricum et sceleris pudet
Fratrumque. Quid nos dura resugimus

What by our sacrilege remains

Untouched? What fear of gods restrains
The ravage of our youth? What altars are
Spared by them? Ah that thou would'st now prepare

In a fresh forge our blunted blades
For Massagete and Arab raids !

Of Numida nobody knows more than we are here told, viz. that he

was a great friend of Horace's and of Lamia's (see Ode xxvi this Book) and that he had lately returned from a lengthened absence in Spain. By ‘non alio rege' in line 8, Horace probably meant "under the same schoolmaster.' The change of gown,

referred to in the following line, was the assumption of the virile toga in lieu of the toga praetexta.

Right joyfully our vows we pay,

With incense, heifer's blood, and lyric strain, To guardian gods of Numida,

Who, safely now returned from farthest Spain,
On his dear messmates many a kiss

Bestows, but more on none than upon his
Beloved Lamia, remembering

Their boyhood passed under one selfsame king,
And their coeval change of gown.

Be this glad day by Cretan token known:
On ready wine-jar no compassion,

No rest for foot from dance in Salian fashion.
By vinous Damalis outquaffed

Be Bassus not, in breathless Thracian draught;

Aetas? quid intactum nefasti

Liquimus ? unde manum juventus
Metu deorum continuit ? quibus
Pepercit aris? O utinam nova
Incude diffingas retusum in

Massagetas Arabasque ferrum!


Et ture et fidibus juvat

Placare et vituli sanguine debito Custodes Numidae deos,

Qui nunc, Hesperia sospes ab ultima, Caris multa sodalibus,

Nulli plura tamen dividit oscula Quam dulci Lamiae, memor

Actae non alio rege puertiae Mutataeque simul togae.

Cressa ne careat pulchra dies nota, Neu promptae modus amphorae,

Neu morem in Salium sit requies pedum, Neu multi Damalis meri

Bassum Threïcia vincat amystide,


Neither let our convivial meeting

Lack roses, parsley bright, or lily fleeting. His longing eyes on Damalis

Each one shall cast—but Damalis, with hold, Closer than wanton ivy's is,

Will not her new-found paramour unfold.

A song of rejoicing on account of the taking of Alexandria and the

death of Cleopatra.

Now let us drink; with lightly tripping feet
Now be earth beaten; now, my friends, 'tis meet

Couches of gods to deck with fare

Worthy of banquets Saliar.
To draw forth Caecuban from antique bin
Till now was impious, while as yet the Queen,

Weak, yet not doubting of success,

And drunk with fortune's largesses,
With help, forsooth, of an infected herd
Of minions loathsome with disease, prepared

Dire ruin for the Capitol,

And for the state, funereal pall.
But her rage drooped when scarce one vessel fled
Saved from our fires; and to no causeless dread,

Her soul with Meroe's grape inflamed,
Caesar, with oars close following, tamed,

« PredošláPokračovať »