English

AFTER THE MANNER OF MILTON .

F AUNUS , who lov'st to chase the light-foot Nymphs,
Propitious guard my fields and sunny farm,
And nurse with kindly care
The promise of my flock.

So to thy pow'r a Kid shall yearly bleed,
And the full bowl to genial Venus flow;
And on thy rustic shrine
Rich odours incense breathe:

ODE 18

T O A F AUN

Wooer of young Nymphs who fly thee,
Lightly o'er my sunlit lawn,
Trip, and go, nor injured by thee
Be my weanling herds, O Faun:

If the kid his doomed head bows, and
Brims with wine the loving cup,
When the year is full; and thousand
Scents from altars hoar go up.

Each flock in the rich grass gambols

IN CHLORIN

Your conduct, naughty Chloris, is
Not just exactly Horace's
Ideal of a lady
At the shady
Time of life;
You mustn't throw your soul away
On foolishness, like Pholoi —
Her days are folly-laden —
She's a maiden,
You're a wife.

Your daughter, with propriety,

O Fons Blandusiae — — —

B LANDUSIA ! more than chrystal clear!
Whose soothing murmurs charm the ear!
Whose margin soft with flowrets crown'd
Invites the festive band around,
Their careless limbs diffus'd supine,
To quaff the soul-enlivening wine.
To thee a tender kid I vow,
That aims for fight his budding brow;
In thought, the wrathful combat proves,
Or wantons with his little loves:
But vain are all his purpos'd schemes,
Delusive all his flattering dreams,

ODE 13

T O THE Fountain OF B ANDUSIA

B ANDUSIA , stainless mirror of the sky!
Thine is the flower-crown'd bowl, for thee shall die,
When dawns yon sun, the kid;
Whose horns, half-seen, half-hid,

Challenge to dalliance or to strife — in vain!
Soon must the firstling of the wild herd be slain,
And those cold springs of thine

OF THE NINTH ODE, THIRD BOOK, OF HORACE .

Dialogue between Horace and Lydia.

HORACE .

When no fond rival's favoured arms
With rapture clasped thy snowy charms;
When but to me thy smile was given
It warmed me like the smile of heaven.
Thus blest, I envied not the state
Of Persia's monarch rich and great.

LYDIA .

When Lydia's smile allured thee more
Than Chloe's sweet seducing power,

What time I was your one best bet
And no one passed the wire before me,
Dear Lyddy, I cannot forget
How you would — yes, you would — adore me.
To others you would tie the can;
You thought of me with no aversion.
In those days I was happier than
A Persian.

LYDIA

Correct. As long as you were not
So nuts about this Chloi person,
Your flame for me burned pretty hot —

CARMEN AMOEBAEUM

I

HORACE

When I was your stiddy, my loveliest Lyddy,
And you my embraceable she,
In joys and diversions, the king of the Persians
Had nothing on me.

LYDIA

When I was the person you penned all that verse on,
Ere Chloi had caused you to sigh,
Not she whose cognomen is Ilia the Roman
Was happier than I.

77 Tuesday, 31 July 1753

Peccare docentes
Fallax historias movet.
Hor. [Od. III vii 19 20]

To taint th'attentive mind she tries
With tales of exemplary vice.

ODE 6

Thou 'lt rue thy fathers' sins, not thine,
Till built the temples be, replaced
The statues, foul and smoke-defaced, —
Roman, — and reared each tottering shrine.

Thou rul'st but under heaven's hand.
Thence all beginnings come, all ends.
Neglected, mark what woes it sends
On this our miserable land.

Twice Pacorus and Monaeses foiled