All the odes and epodes of Horace. Translated into English verse: by Henry Rider, Master of Arts of Emmanuel Colledge in Camebridge

ALL THE ODES AND EPODES OF HORACE.

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE: By HENRY RIDER, Maſter of Arts of Emanuel Colledge in CAMEBRIDGE.

HOR. lib. 3. Ode 1. —Carmina non prius Audita, Muſarum Sacerdos Virginibus pueriſque canto.

LONDON, Printed by Iohn Haviland, for Robert Rider. Anno Dom. 1638.

Imprimatur,

Tho. Wykes, R. P. Epiſc. Lond. Cap. domest. Novemb. 8. 1637.

TO THE HONOVRABLE ROBERT LORD Rich, &c. The Author wiſheth all happineſſe here and hereafter. My honoured LORD:

TO ſhew that your greatneſſe in your ſelfe hath not made mee fearefull unto deſpaire, nor your graciouſneſſe toward me, bold unto preſumption, in a modeſt confidence I now beg a long-ſince promiſed patronage: Horace, who either learned from, or taught the Spheres a perfect muſicall harmonie, and made the language of Rome truly Roman, (if we may beleeve himſelfe) was as meanly deſcended as my own ſelfe; yet did not his meanneſſe deprive him of a preſidiarie Maecenas, a Roman Knight, high in Honours, and (which was the greateſt) in his Princes love: and it is queſtionable whether Horace were more helped by Maecenas hand, or Maecenas more honoured by Horace his pen: Horace lived well under Maecenas protection, Maecenas yet lives in Horace kis Poeſie: Dignum laude Virum Muſa vetat mori; Coelo muſa beat. I now preſent unto your Honours hand, the ſame Poet, but in an Engliſh dreſſe; nor can it be more difficult to finde an Engliſh Maecenas, than to make an Engliſh Horace: It is not unknowne to thoſe that have bent their ſtudies this way, how hard it is to be tyed to the words and matter of another, eſpecially in verſe; and yet if you pleaſe graciouſly to accept, and powerfully to protect my weake endeavours, I was never ſo much bound to my Authors phraſe, as I ſhall be to your Honours favour. Vouchſafe a gracious aſpect to theſe my labours, and I doubt not but thoſe comfortable raies darted from your eyes, will now give mee life, as they have heretofore given me heat. The loftie riding Sunce in his diurnall courſe doth ſhine as bright on a meane cottage, as a Princes Palace; and though his beames cannot raiſe it to an equall height, yet they impart light and comfort to both alike. I know the Nobleneſſe of your diſpoſition will accept of my Tranſlation as well in parchment, as if it had been wrapped up in pluſh; in vellam as in velvet; conſidering the matter is ſtill the ſame, as when that Muſes darling Horace wrote it: a curious Cabinet cannot make gold better, nor a canvaſe bag, or iron cheſt diminiſh the worth of it. I leave my worke and ſelfe to your gracious patronage, and wiſh my ſelfe may ever be eſteemed, as I deſire to be

Your Honours humble ſervant, HENRY RIDER.

The Tranſlator to the Judicious Reader.

TRanſlations of Authors from one language to another, are like old garments turn'd into new faſhions; in which though the ſtuff • be ſtill the ſame, yet the die and trimming are altered, and in the making, here ſomething added, there ſomething cut away: yet have I endeavoured to ſet forth in publick the Odes and Epodes of Horace in Engliſh verſe, with as little loſſe as may be, unleſſe it be of my owne credit, who have preſumed to make my gleanings more than anothers harveſt, and where hee onely gathered ſome few eares, I to bind up ſtraw and all together; for you will find many Odes which have little or no matter in them, as being compoſed by the prime author onely to ſhew the excellency of the Roman phraſe, and verſe; others mixt of words and matter; many materially excellent. I know I cannot write without the committing of many errors, ſomewhereof may paſſe undetected to many, which I my ſelfe may very much miſlike; and ſome may pick a good conceit in ſome things, where I intended none: others may utterly diſlike, what may indifferently pleaſe me, and diſaffect ſome epithetes which I did labour for: Thus tres mihi convivae prope diſſentire &c. Let me give you a taſle of one or two paſſages, wherein haply, perhaps unhappily I may diſſent from other judgements: in the fourth Ode of the firſt Booke: Quo ſimul mearis, Nec regna vini ſortiere talls, which the Commentators in my opinion doe faile in, making talis vini the adjective and ſubſtantive of the genitive caſe; whereas Talis is a ſubſtantive in the ablative eaſe; for it was a cuſtome among the Romans, at their feaſts, to caſt the dice who ſhould bee the governour of their healths drinking; and this is conſonant to Horace himſelfe in the ſeventh Ode of the ſecond Book—Quem Venus arbitrum Dic • t bibendi: for Venus, or jactus Venereus carried away all: Another thing which I would advertiſe the Reader of is this, when the ſame word, of the ſame eaſe and gender ſhall beare two ſenſes, both good; and the Tranſlator, that cannot in his verſe render both, ſhall bee thought ignorant in the one, as in this place; Ode thirty five of the firſt Book: Regum que matres barbarorum, Et purpurei metuunt Tyranni; where the word purpurei may bee underſtood of the cruelty of tyrants, whoſe hands are dipt in blood; or the royall clothing of Kings and Emperours in purple robes: in the former ſenſe I have tranſlated the words thus,

And barbarous Kings mothers are afeard, And tyrants too with purple gore beſmear'd.

In the latter ſenſe it may be thus rendred;

And barbarous kings mothers are afraid, And Tyrants too with purple robes araid.

A third ſort of miſtake is in ſome whole clauſe or ſentence, as in the fifth Ode of the third Booke, concerning Regulus his embaſie to Rome, where he ſaith:

—Signa ego Punicis Affixa delubris, & arma Militibus ſine caede, dixit, Direpta vidi.

Thus farre I underſtand of the baſe cowardize of the Roman ſouldiers: but for that which followeth,

—Vidi ego civium Retorta tergo brachia libero,

I wonder that all Commentators, that I have ſeene, ſhould interpret it of the ſlaverie of the Romans, which is ſpoken of the fearleſſe walking up and downe of the Carthaginian citicens with their hands behind them, after their conqueſt obtained: and this is evident by the next words.

Portasque non clauſas, et arva Marte coli populata noſtro.

A fourth ſort of miſtake is in the different pointing of a ſentence, as you may ſee in the ſame Ode:

Si pugnat extricata denſis Cerva plagis, erit ille fortis Qui perfidis fe credidit hoſtibus.

Which if it be read with an interrogation, I can ſee us ſenſe in it: therefore I reade it as a meere conceſſion upon an impoſſibilitie, that you may as well make a Deere ſtay and fight valiantly, when ſhe is eſcaped from the hunters toile, as a ſoldier once freed from his captivitie. The laſt ſort of miſtakes may be in different readings, as in the ſeventh Ode of the firſt book (to give no more inſtances) where ſome reade, Undique decerptam fronti praeponere olivam: I preferre that other reading, Undique decerptae frondem praeponere olivae: ſince there the Poet ſpeakes of preferring Athens, Pallas citie, and the Olive tree ſacred to her, before all other cities and trees.

Take, gentle Reader, theſe my labours in good part; and if I in this ſhall give thee any contentment, I hope hereafter to increaſe it to thee in ſome other ſubject; whoſe ſtudie in this hath been, to afford thee both profit and delight.

Thine in the beſt of his endeavours, HENRY RIDER.

THE FIRST BOOKE of the Odes of HORACE.

ODE I. TO MAECENAS. HORACE deſcribeth how ſeverall men are delighted with ſeverall ſorts of life; but himſelfe only with the Name of a Lyrick Poet, as that which will prove moſt for his glorie. MAEcenas, my protection, and ſweet grace, Frō great great-grandſire Kings that hadſt thy race; There's ſome who love in charrets to raiſe high Th'Olympick duſt; and then the goale paſt by By their ſwift heated wheeles, and noble praiſe The Lords of th'earth up to the Gods doth raiſe. Him, if the fickle Roman rout contend With trebly doubled honours to commend; That man, if he in his owne barns have heapt What ever from the Libyan floores is ſwept, Loving with's plow to cut his countrie field, With richeſt profers you ſhall nere make yeeld; That as a trembling ſea-man he ſhould rip Myrtilus ſea up in a Cyprus ſhip. The Merchant lauds his countries eaſe and reſt, Fearing the South-weſt-wind that dos conteſt With Icarus ſeas, ſtraight his torn ſhips doth reare, Being unskilfull povertie to beare; This man doth love bowles of old Sack to taſte, And ſome part of the ſolid day to waſte, His corps being now beneath ſome green tree ſpread, Now neere ſome ſacred fountains gentle head, Tents and confuſed dinne of fife and drum, • nd matron-hated battels doe pleaſe ſome: The hunter mindleſſe of his tender bride, Dos under the cool-freezing air abide, Whether his truſtie hound did ſpie a Deere, Or Marſyan Boar his round hol'd nets did teare. Ivie, the learn'd heads meed, ranks me above, With the high gods; me the coole-ſh • ded grove, And Nymphs and Satyres nimble train divide From the rout, if Euterpe doe not hide Her pipe from me, nor Polyhymnia Refuſe upon her Lesbian lute to play: But if 'mong Lyrick Poets you'l prick me down, He touch the ſtars with my advanced crown.

ODE II. TO AUGUSTUS CAESAR. Hee deſcribeth the tempeſt, and inundation of Tiber, and intimates that they were ſent for the ſlaughter of Julius Caeſar in the Capitol; complaining alſo of the civill wars that followed upon it; and concludes with a prayer for Auguſtus. NOw hath our Father ſent upon this land Snow and dire haile enough, and, with fierce hand Caſting our ſacred towres down, hath diſmaid Our Citie; he the Nations made afraid, L • ſt Pyrrha's wofull age (who did complain Of new-ſprung monſters) ſhould return again. When Prote •• drove up all his herds to ſee The tops of hills, and on the high elm-tree The fiſhes clung (which was the doves known ſeat) And fearfull does on the toſt waves did beat. We yellow-ſanded Tiber did behold With billowes from the Tyrrhene Ocean roll'd, Hurrie to beat down our Kings monument, And Veſta's temple, very violent: While he himſelfe a champion did diſplay For his too much lamenting Ilia, And the wife-ſerving floud enrag'd dos ſlide (Though love gain-ſaid it) ore his curſed ſide. Our youths diminiſht by their fathers fault, Shall heare tell that our Citizens have wrought Their ſwords, with which the Perſians ſevere Might better fall; they of theſe wars ſhall heare. What God now ſhall our people invocate Unto our ruine-fearing Empires ſtate? With what pray'r ſhall our ſacred virgins call Vesta who now heares not our prayers at all? On whom will Iupiter the office lay Of wiping our impieties away? Prophet Apollo, come, we pray, at laſt, Thy ſhoulders with a white cloud being o'rec • ſt; Or if • ai • e Venus thou pleaſe to ſtep out, (Whom Mirth and Venus ever fly about) Or whether thou our Father caſt an eye On thy neglected ſtock and progenie; Thou (ah) with too long bloudie paſtime fill'd, Whom clamour pleaſes, and the glittering ſhield, And countenance of Indian ſwift to goe, Moſt violent againſt his wounded foe: Or if that thou the winged meſſenger, Thy forme being chang'd, like our young Prince appeare Upon the earth, thou ſon of Maia mild, Caeſars avenger pleaſing to be ſtil'd; Mayſt thou returne to heav'n again, but late; And long live gracious to our Roman ſtate; Nor from us let ore-ſwift fate carry thee Offended much at our impietie. Here mayſt thou purchaſe worthy conqueſts rather, Here love thou to be ſtil'd our Prince and father; Nor let the Medians unpuniſht ride, So long as thou, ô Caeſar, art our guide.

ODE III. To the ſhip in which Virgil ſailed to Athens. He prayeth the ſhip to deliver Virgil ſafe to Athens, then condemneth the raſhceſſe of him that firſt went to ſea. O Ship that ow'ſt back Virgil truſted to thee, Reſtore him ſafe to Athens ſhoares, I wooe thee, And keep the one halfe of my ſoule: ſo, ever, May Cyprus potent goddeſſe thee deliver, So Helens brothers, two bright ſtars, thee guide, So the winds Father, (all elſe up being tide Except the weſt-wind.) Oake and three-fold braſſe Went ore his heart, who firſt of all did paſſe The ſlender ſhip unto the floud ſevere, Nor rude north ſtruggling 'gainſt the ſouth did feare, Nor rainy Hyades, nor ſouth-weſts mood, Than which the ruler of the Adrian floud Is not more potent, whether he doe pleaſe To raiſe aloit, or to calme downe the ſeas. What ſtep of death fear'd he, who with eyes dry Did gaze upon the monſters ſwimming by, Who did behold the Ocean ſtill uneven, And the ill-famed rocks whoſe tops touch't heaven. Foreſeeing heaven hath parted, all in vain, The earth from the unſociable main, 〈◊〉 for all this theſe impious ſhips doe goe Beyond thoſe ſeas ſhould not be reacht unto. "Mankind that dares doe any thing, hath runne "Into thoſe ſins forbidden to be done. Iäpetus bold ſon toth' earth hath throwne Fire by pernicious craft: this fire ſtolne downe From heavens court, Leanneſſe, and a new train'd band Of feavers revelled in every Land. Daedalus paſſed through the yeelding cloud, With pinions unto mankind not allow'd: Hercules labour did through Acheron ſaile: Nothing's too hard for men: even heaven we ſeale By folly, nor through our owne ſin will let Iove his revenging bolts aſide to ſet.

ODE IV. TO L. SEXTIUS. A deſcription of the Spring, an exhortation to mirth from the common condition of mans mortalitie. BY Spring and Weſt-winds gentle change about Sharpe Winter's gone; the engines now lanch on The long-dry keeles, nor doe the beaſts deſire The ſtable, nor the husband-man the fire, Nor doe the fields with hoary froſts looke gray: Now Cytherean Venus leads the way, While the moone'gins to ſhine, and ſweet-fac'd Graces Joyn'd with Nymphs, ſhake the earth with mixed paces: While the flame-ſcattering Vulcan now doth fire His Cyclops-toiling forges: now to tire The head with myrtle green, and with the bud Which the earth now unpriſon'd beares, is good. Now fit to ſacrifice in groves cloſe hid To Faunw, whether he crave lambe or kid. "Pale death with the ſame foot knocks at the bowers "Of the poore men, and at the Princes towers. O happie Sextius, this our lives ſhort ſcope Forbids us to conceive a laſting hope. Now, now will death, and ghoſts held fabulous Seize upon thee, and Platoes fai • ie houſe; Whither being gone, you ſhan't at dice acquire The rule 'oth' wine nor Lycidas ſmooth admire, For whom our Youths now all on fire doe grow, And maids ere long in their deſire will glow.

ODE V. TO PYRRHA. The miſery of them that do • e on ber. WHat tender boy upon a roſie b • d, Being with liquid odours overſpred, Within ſome pleaſant bow'r, doth to thee ſue ( • O Pyrrha) for thy love? for whom doe you Bind your gold locks, plain in your ornament? Alas, how oft ſhall the proud Boy repent Thy falſe faith, and contemned deities, And look with wonderment on thoſe thy ſeas Made rough with black winds, who (too credulous Boy) 〈◊〉 thee now as ſome golden prize enjoy? Who hopes thou'lt ſtill be free to him, ſtill faire, Ignorant of thy all-deluding aire. Wretched are they to whom untride you ſhine; The wall, by ſacred tables made divine, Shewes I have hung my ſhip-rackt robe on high Unto the Oceans potent Deitie.

ODE VI. TO AGRIPPA. That his battels must be ſung by Varius; Horace himſelfe being fit only for meaner ſubjects. THou valiant man, and conquerour of thy foes, Shalt be by Varius ſung in hymnes like thoſe Or Homers muſe, what ere thy warlike forces Under thy conduct did by ſhips or horſes. (Agrippa) we nor ſtrive theſe things to welld, Nor Peleus ſons ſtout heart, who could not yeeld, Nor yet the wandring of Ʋlyſſes ſly, By ſea, nor Pelops bloudie family. We that are weake ones great things doe not uſe, While ſhame and our weake lyre ore-ſwaying muſe. Forbids me worthy Caeſars praiſe to ſtain, And thine with the ill working of my brain. Who worthily can with his pen denote Mars armed with an Adamantine coate, Or Merion with the Trojan duſt beſmear'd, Or Tideus ſon by Pallas aid up-rear'd Equall toth' gods? We ſing of Banquettings, We ſing of angred Virgins bickerings 'Gainſt young men with pair'd nailes, being free to muſe, Or, if in love, not lighter than we uſe.

ODE VII. TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS. Divers men extoll divers countries, the Poet only likes Tiburtus grove, and exhorts to waſh away cares with wine. SOme will bright Rhodes or Mitylene extoll, Or Epheſus, or two-ſea'd Gorinths wall, Or Thebes by-Bacchus, or elſe Delphos high By Phoehus, or thoſe fields of Theſſaly. Some there are whoſe ſole worke it is to raiſe The virgin Pallas towne with laſting layes, And to preferre the branch o'th' olive tree Fore any boughs that elſe-where gathered bee. The moſt part doe for Iunoes honour pitch On horſe ſtor'd Argos, and Mycaene rich. Not Lacedaenion ſo inur'd to toile Did ever ſo affect me, nor the ſoile Of fat Lariſſa did me ſo much ſway, As th'houſe of echoing Albunea, And ſteepie Anio, and Tiburnus grove, And orchards lav'd with ſtreames that ever move. As oft the cleared north the darkneſſe ſcoures From the black heaven, nor breeds perpetuall ſhowres; So thou, being wiſe, remember to confine Thy griefes, and lifes toile, Plancus, in milde wine; Whether the Camps with banners gliſtring hold thee, Or that thy Tibers ſhadie banks ſhall fold thee. From Salamis and's ſire when Teucer fled, Yet it is ſaid, that he did bind his head, Well drencht in Bacchus, with a Poplar crowne, Thus ſpeaking to his friends ſo much caſt downe: Where-ever fortune, better than my father, Shall beare us, mates and friends wee'll goe together. Yee nothing need deſpaire, while Teucer is Your guide and aid: for Phoebus promis'd this (Unerring he) that in a new-found land A Salamis as good as this ſhould ſtand: O valiant men, and that oft-times with me Have ſuffered far worſe calamitie, Now doe you all your griefes with wine reſtrain; Tomorrow wee'll to the vaſt ſea again.

ODE VIII. TO LYDIA. Concerning a young man waſted with her love. LYDIA, ſpeake, by all the gods I pray, Why ſtrive you Sibaris to caſt away For love? Why doth he thus the wide field ſhun, Being inured both to duſt and Sun? Why rides he not as ſouldier 'mongſt his train, Nor with ſharp bits his Flanders ſteeds doth raine? Why feares he to ſwim yellow Tiber o're And ſhuns, more warily than vipers gore, The Olive wreath, nor doth his ſhoulders ſhew Now with the armes he beares made black and blew? Oft by the Diſcus being made renoun'd, Oft by the arrow ſhot cleane through the bound: Why lurks he as the ſea-queen Thetis boy (They ſay) did, 'bout the wofull fall of Troy, Leſt that his manlike habit ſhould command Him to the wars, and to his Lycian band?

ODE IX. TO THALIARCHUS. The ſharper the winter is, the ſweeter our mirth ſhould be. SEe'ſt thou Soracte white with a deepe ſnow? How the bow'd trees their weight can't undergoe? And how the ſtreames bound with ſharpe ice, doe ſtand? Diſſolve the froſt, laying with bounteous hand Wood on the fire, and with a courage bold Draw, Thaliarch, thy wine of foure yeares old, Out of thy Sabine two-ear'd pot: the reſt Leave to the gods, who when they have ſuppreſt The winds on the rude ſea maintaining warre, Nor Cypres, nor old Aſh-trees ſhaken are. "Enquire thou not what ſhall to morrow bee, "And whatſoere day fortune giveth thee, "Put it upon thy gaines; nor ſweet love-glances Doe thou abhorre, O bey, nor yet our dances, While crabbed age forbeares thy youth a ſpace, Let both the ma • tiall field and wreſtling place, And ſoftly-whiſpers when the night comes in, At a fit ſeaſon be reviv'd agin; And the maids pleaſant laugh that her betraid Within ſome private corner cloſely laid, Or favour being ſnatched from her arme Or finger having done ſome trifling harme.

ODE X. An Hymne to MERCURIE. The praiſes of him from ſeverall things. ELoquent Hermes, Atlas daughters childe, That haſt reform'd rude mens behaviour wilde, Smooth in thy ſpeech, and in thy mannaging Of the neat wreſtling place; thee will I ſing, Great Ioves and the gods Nuntius, and the ſire Oth'crooked harp, what ere thou didſt require, Being skilfull in a jeſting theft to hide: Whilſt thee, a lad, Apollo terrifi • de With threatning words, unleſſe thou didſt re • The kine that had been ſtolne away before From him by thy deceitfulneſſe; he ſmil'd When of his quiver too he was beguil'd. Nay Priam too (happie in leaving Troy) Left Atreu • proud ſons, (thou being his convoy) The Greek flames, and Troyes weake camps: thou diſpoſeſ • Bleſt ſoules in pleaſant ſhades, and thou incloſeſt The airy drove in with a golden rod, Lov'd from the higheſt to the loweſt god.

ODE XI. TO LEUCONOE. That ſhee ſhould not trouble her ſelfe with future things. (IT is a ſin) doe not thou ſeek to know What fate the gods will on my ſelfe beſtow, What upon thee, Leuconoe, nor trie The Babylonian Aſtrologie; The better to endure what ere may bee, Whether more Winters Iove will grant to thee, Or this thy laſt, which with oppoſed rocks In thunder breakes the Tyrrhene ocean ſhocks. Be wiſe, and rack thy wines up, and quite breake Thy long hope off in ſhort ſpace: "while we ſpeake, "Envious time flyes: lay hold upon this day, "Truſting the next as little as you may.

ODE XII. TO AUGUSTUS. Of Orpheus, of the gods, Heroes, and brave Commanders of Rome, laſtly of Auguſtus. WHat man, or Demi god wilt thou aſpire (Cl • o) to celebrate upon thy lyre, Or ſhrill-tun'd pipe? what god? what perſons name Shall the deluding echo reproclaime Or in the ſhadie banks of Helicon, Or Pindus, or cold Haemus tops upon? From whence the foreſts wildly tooke their way After harmonious Orpheus, who could ſtay The flouds rough current by his mothers skill, And the ſwift winds, and to his muſick ſhrill The then-quick-hearing trees had art to raiſe: What rather than our parents uſuall praiſe Shall I firſt ſing? or him that dos command Th'affaires of men and gods, rules ſea and land, And dos the world by various ſeaſons guide? Than whom no greater power dos live beſide, Nor any equall is, or next in place, Yet Pallas hath obtain'd the neareſt grace. Nor of thee, Bacchus, will I ſilent bee, Valiant in quarels; nor, O maid, of thee, An enemie to ſavage beaſts that art, Nor thee, O Phoebus, fear'd for thy ſure dart. Alcides I, and Laedaes ſons will ſing, The one renown'd, for horſe-back conquering, To'ther for handy-ſtrokes; whoſe glorious ſtars, When they appeare unto the marinars, The forced water from the rocks doth flow, The winds are laid, the clouds away doe goe, And preſently (becauſe they ſo doe pleaſe) The threatning waves are ſtill upon the ſeas. Whether, next theſe, to ſing of Romulus, Or the ſerene reigne of Pomp • lius, Or of Tarquinius proud dominion, Or Catoes noble fate, I ſtick upon; I gratefully will in a loftie verſe Regulus and the Scauri next rehearſe, And Paulus prodigall of his brave blood, What time the Carthaginian victor ſtood, Next him Fabritius: cruſhing povertie And a ſmall field left from their anceſtrie, With a meet cell, him fit for war did ſquare, And Curius with his uncurious haire; Camillus too: Marcellus fame is growne Like to a tree, unto an age unknowne. Among all theſe the Iulian ſtar aſpires Like to the Moone among the leſſer fires. Thou father and preſerver of mankind, Begot by Saturne, unto thee aſſign'd Let all the care of Caeſars fortunes bee; Doe thou reign chiefe, and Caeſar next to thee, He, whether he in a juſt victory Chain the tam'd Parthians foes to Italy, Or he ſubdue the Seres and the Mores Dwelling upon the orientall ſhores; Inferiour to thee, ſhall as partner take The wide worlds rule; but thou alone ſhalt ſhake Heaven with thy ponderous charret, and ſhalt caſt Thy vengefull thunders on the groves unchaſte.

ODE XIII. TO LYDIA. A complaint that ſhee preferres Telephus afore him. WHen thou the roſie neck of Telephus, Telephus ſmooth armes (Lydia) praiſeſt thus, Ah, my ſcorcht heart with untam'd choler ſwells, Nor ſenſe, nor bloud in their due ſtation dwells, And ſweat drops downe my cheekes, at it would ſay, With what ſlow flames am I conſum'd away? I am intag'd, whether ſome ore-hot broile Sprung out of wine, did thy white ſhoulders ſoile, Or whether with his teeth the mad cap ſpark Upon thy lips have ſet ſome noted mark. You cannot hope, if you will yeeld to mee, That he will yours for everlaſting bee, Who barb'rouſly dos your ſweet kiſſes harme, Which Venus with the Quinteſſence did warme Of her owne Nectar. "O thrice bleſt are thoſe, "And more, whom an unſever'd band dos cloſe; "Nor their loves, by falſe ſcandals ren taway, "Shall ere unknit untill their dying day.

ODE XIV. TO BRUTUS. A perpetuall Allegorie againſt his civill warre. O Ship, new flouds againe ſhall carry you Into the ſea; ô, what doſt meane to doe? Steare quickly to the port: doe not you ſee How deſtitute of oares your port-holes bee? And the maine maſt, and ſaile-yard too doe crack, Being by the ſwift-wing'd North wind put to rack; And ſhips without their tackling can't prevaile On the rough ſea; thou haſt not one whole ſaile; Thou haſt no gods to whom thou out may'ſt crie, Being againe oppreſt with miſerie; Though thou a Pontick pine (the nobleſt breed Of all the foreſt) boaſteſt of thy ſeed, And fruitleſſe name; the fearfull mariner Truſts not in painted boards: then doe tho feare, Unleſſe thou'lt be a may-game for the wind; (Thou that waſt late my fearfull griefe of mind, Now my deſire and chiefe care) ſhun the ſeas Winding among the ſhining Cyclades.

ODE XV. Nereus propheſie of the ruine of Troy. WHer that falſe ſhepherd brought by ſea away In Projan ſhips his miſtreſſe Helena, Nereus with an unpleaſing lazineſſe Fetter'd the winds, untill he did expreſſe His wofull fate. With an ill omen thou Doſt bring her home, whom Greece, bound in a vow To breake thy match, and Priams antient raigne, With many an armed band ſhall fetch againe. O what a ſweat doth horſe and man annoy, What ſlaughters for the nation of Troy Doſt thou procure? Now Pallas readie hath Her helmet, Aegis, charrets, and ſterne wrath. In vaine ſhalt thou combe out thy locks, being ſtout On Venus aid, and warble thy ſongs out Pleaſing to women, on thy feeble lyre; In vaine ſhalt thou fly from the javelins, dire To beds of love; their ſhafts of Cretian reed, Their clamourings, and Ajax ſwift of ſpeed To follow thee; yet thou, alas, though late, Thy lecherous haires in duſt ſhalt vitiate. Doſt thou not thinke upon Laertes ſon, The overthrow of all thy nation, Nor Pylian Neſtor? Salaminius, And Teucer, and the war-skill'd Sthenelus Fearleſſe purſues thee, who, if need there were, To fight on horſe, is a ſwift charioter. Thou ſhalt know Merion too: Tydeus ſtern ſon, Stouter than's ſire, to find thee mad doth run; Whom thou faint heart with panting breath doſt flie, As a Deere mindleſſe of his prey, doth hie From the Wolfe ſeen in the vales farther ſide; Thou made not ſuch a promiſe to your bride. The furious navie of Achilles ſhall Procure to Ilium an utter fall, And to the Trojan dames: ſome winters paſt. The Grecian fire the Trojan towres ſhall blaſt.

ODE XVI. A Recantation. To a maid whom he had libell'd, and transfers the cauſe upon rage, which he deſcribes. DAughter more faire than thy fair mother was, Upon my libelling Iambicks paſſe What ever doome you will; whether you pleaſe To caſt them in the fire, or Adrian ſeas. Not Cybele, nor the inhabiter Of Pytho, dos ſo much his Prieſts minds ſtirre From his hid cell, nor Bacchus his ſo much, Nor Corybants their tinkling braſſe ſo touch, As fell wrath us: which nor the Turkiſh blade, Nor the devouring ſea can make afraid, Nor cruell fire, nor love himſelfe keep under, Ruſhing upon us with his wrathfull thunder. 'Tis ſaid Prometheus, being forc't to it, Unto his curious peece of clay did knit A portion cut from every thing, and preſt The raging Lions fury on our breſt. Rage with a ſad deſtruction overthrew Thyestes, and the chiefeſt cauſes grew In greateſt Cities, that they periſht all, And the inſulting foe drove on the wall His hoſtile plough: ſtop rage; for my breſt heat Did in my flowing youth on mee too beat, And upon ſharp Iambicks ſent me mad: Now with milde ſongs I ſeeke to change what's ſad, And ſince my ſcandalls have recanted bin, Be friends with mee, and give mee life agin.

ODE XVII. TO TYNDARIS. He inviteth her to Lucretilis, which he highly praiſes. SWift Faunu • from Lycaeum changing is Oft-times to the ſweet aird Lucretilis, And parching heat, and cold winds doth remove Still from my goats unharm'd through each ſafe grove. The ſtrong-ſmell'd hee goats mates wandring about, The ſheltring ſhrubs, and beds of Tyme ſeek out, Nor the kid fold the green skind ſerpent dreads; Nor martiall wolves; when, Tyndaris, the meads, And ſmooth-trod ſtones of ſteep Uſticas ground With the ſweet-tuned pipe doe thorow ſound. The gods keepe mee; my pietie and Muſe Is gratefull to the gods: from hence accrues Unto the full, out of the plenteous horne A wealthy treaſure of the countries corne. In a retired vale here ſhalt thou flee The Dog-ſtars heat, and of Penelope And beauteous Circe both for one at ſuite, Shalt thou relate upon thy Teian Lute. Here ſhalt thou drinke beneath a ſhadie tree Goblets of Lesbian wine nere harming thee, Nor Bacchus upon Semele begot Shall any quarellings with Mars complot; Not yet ſuſpected ſhalt thou Cyrus feare So raſh left he his rude hands up ſhould reare Gainſt thee too weake, and rend thy faſtned crowne Off from thy haires, and teare thy harmleſſe gowne.

ODE XVIII. TO QUINTIUS VARUS. That the moderate uſe of wine makes men pleaſant; immoderate, turbulent. BOut Tiburs pleaſant paſture, and the wall Of Catilus, plant thou no tree at all, O Vorus, ſooner than the ſacred vine; For Bacchus to the ſober dos aſſigne All hard afflictions, nor otherwiſe Can they avoid ſharp-tooth'd calamities. Who in's wine prates of tedious woe or want? Who, father Bacchus, dos not of thee chant, And thee, faire Venus? but leſt ſome indeed The liberties of moderate wine exceed, The Centaures quarrells with the Lapythae, Skirmiſhed in their wine, admoniſh thee. Bacchus adviſes thee, the Thracians foe, When greedie of their appetite they goe Through right and wrong with ſmall diſtinction. Thee, gentle Bacchus, He not ſet upon, Without thy leave, nor bring into the light Thy ſecret rites with many boughs bedight. Thy trumpets ſhrill, and Trojan horne reſtraine, Which blinde ſelfe-love ſucceeds, and glory vaine, The emptie head more than is fitting ſwelling, And glaſſe-tranſparent truſt, hid ſecrets telling.

ODE XIX. OF GLYCERA: He is ſo tormented with love, that be cannot write of warre, but wantonneſſe. THe Cupids cruell mother, and the ſon Of The bane Semele commands me on, And wanton libertie, again to move My mind unto my long forſaken love. Glycera's beautie fireth me alone, Shining more bright than Parian marble ſtone. Her lovely skornfulneſſe inflameth mee, And look too dangerous for me to ſee Venus upon me ruſhing with her might, Left Cyprus, nor would ſuffer me to write Of Scythians, and of Parthians valorous On wrong-turn'd ſteeds, nor what concerns not us. Young ſtriplings, lay for me greene freſh turfe here, Vervine and frankincenſe diſpoſe me there, With bowles of wine of two yeares old well fill'd: Shee'l be more milde, the ſacrifice being kill'd.

ODE XX. TO MAECENAS. He inviteth him to a meane banquet. WEak Sabine wine in ſmall cups ſhalt thou taſte, Which in a Greek Pot clos'd my ſelfe had cas'd Deare Knight Maecenas) when that the applauſe Was given thee in the Theater; the cauſe That thy owne rivers banks, and pratling aire Of the hill Vatican, did again declare Thy praiſes unto thee. Thou ſhalt digeſt Thy Caecube wine and grapes that have been preſt Out of the Calene fat: nor Falern wine Nor Formian hills adorn theſe cups of mine.

ODE XXI. Hee exhorteth young men and maids to the praiſe of Apollo and Diana. YEE tender Virgins Dian ſing, Yee young men long haird Phoebus ring, And Latona loved deere Of the mightie Iupiter. Sing yee her that pleaſed is With rivers and the leaves of trees. Which in cold Algidum doe move, Or Erimanthus ſhadle grove, Or Cragus green: Yee young-men raiſe Tempe with as many layes; Doe ye alſo Delos hallow Being the birth-place of Apollo, And his ſhoulders dignified With ſhafts and's brothers lute beſide. He wofull warre ſhall chaſe from hence, He wretched dearth and peſtilence From people, and from Emp'rour Caeſar, For the Perſians up ſhalt treaſure, And againſt the Brittiſh nation, Moved with your ſupplication,

ODE XXII. TO ARISTIUS. The integritie of life is every where ſafe, which he proves by his owne example. THe ſound of life, and from corruption freed, (Fuſcus) nor Indian darts, nor how doth need, Nor quiver full of poyſoned ſhafts, though hee Thorow the patching ſands to travell bee, Or the inhoſpitable Caucaſus, Or places which Hydaſpes fabulous Runs through; for in the Sabine grove from mee Being unarm'd, a Wolfe away did flee, While I did chant my Lalage, and goe Beyond my bounds, being devoid of woe: A monſter which nor warlick Daunia feeds In her large fields, nor Iuba's kingdome breeds, The Lions dry nurſe. Say you baniſh mee Unto thoſe frozen lands, where never tree Is recreated by the Summer heat, Which part 'oth' world fogs and bad miſts doe beat: Place me beneath the carre 'oth' too-neere Sun, Even in a Land where habitation Was never knowne; yet will I ſtill love thee, My ſweet-fac't, and my ſweet-tongu'd Lalage.

ODE XXIII. TO CHLOE. That ſhee ſhould not feare him, but forſake her mother, being ripe for a husband. LIke to a Hinde thou Chloe doſt me fly That ſeeks his dam upon the mountaines high, With a fond feare of winds and trees. For if the ſpring-time with mov'd leaves did ruſh, Or green-skind Adder bruſtled through abuſh, He trembles both in heart and knees. But I not like a Tyger fell, Or a Getulian Lion, will Purſue to reare thee: ceaſe at length to flit After thy damme, being for a husband fit.

ODE XXIV. TO VIRGIL. Of the death of Quintilius. MELPOMENE, thou unto whom thy fire Gave a ſweet voice together with thy lyre, Sing thy ſad tunes; what meane can be, or end To the bewailing of ſo deare a friend? Dos then an everlaſting ſleepe poſſeſſe Quintilius? unto whom both modeſtneſſe And Juſtice ſiſter (Faith from ſcandall cleare) And naked Truth when will they finde a peere. Bewail'd of many good men died hee, Bewail'd of no man, Virgil, more than thee. Thou pious man (alas) but all in vain, Demandſt Quintilius of the gods again, Not lent them to that end: but if that you Should tune that Lute which trees did hearken to, Better than Thracian Orpheus, yet agin Life to that ai • ie ſhape can nere come in, Which Mercury (who never could be won To reverſe faces upon petition) Hath once commanded downe to his black guard With his moſt dreaded rod; the caſe is hard. But "that by patience is made more light, "Which 'tis not in our power to ſet aright.

ODE XXV. TO LYDIA. He inſulteth over Lydia, that now being old ſhee is deſpiſed of youngsters. BOld youngſters thy clos'd windowes ſeldome ſhake With dobled blowes, nor thy ſleeps from thee take, And ſtill the doore keepes ſhut, which heretofore His oiled hinges moved ore and ore: Now leſſe and leſſe th'art fam'd: whilſt, Lydia, I fall from thee, thou ſleepſt whole nights away. In like ſort, baſe old bawd, thou ſhalt complaine For thy proud lechers downe in ſome by-lane, Whilſt neare th'eclipſe the north-wind blowes more high, When thy inflamed love, and lecherie That's wont to make ma • es mad, ſhall rage upon Thy diſeas'd heart, with lamentation That more in love each ſprightfull youngſter growes With green leav'd ſvie, and freſh Myrtle boughs, And the d • le wither'd leaves dos dedicate To Hebrus ſtreame the froſts aſſociate.

ODE XXVI. In the praiſe of Lamias. I That unto the Muſes am a friend, My griefes and feares to rough winds will commend Into the Cretick Ocean them to fling. Nor will I notice take, by whom the King Of the cold clime neare the North pole's obey'd, Nor what makes Tiridates ſore affraid. O thou harmonious Pimplaean muſe, That doſt a bout the full-b imm'd fountaines uſe, Compoſe together flowers newly blow'n, O make thou for my Lamias a crown. My praiſings can doe nothing without you; It doth behove thee, and thy ſiſters too, Him with your new ſtrung Lutes to raiſe on high, Him with your Lesbian Harp to deifie.

ODE XXVII. To his Companions. Againſt quarrelling in drink: deſiring M • gella's brother to drink his miſtreſſe health, hearing her name, he pities him. IT is the courſe of Thracians to fight With cups made for increaſing of delight: Take that Barbarian cuſtome hence, and ſtay Your ruddie wine from any bloudy f • ay. From wine and midnight revels ſtrange it is How much the Median Cimeter diſagrees. Allay, companions, this tumult ill, And leane upon your reſted elbowes ſtill. And would you have mequaffe my part up too Of quarrell-breeding Falern wine with you? Let Opus-bred Megellaes brother ſay, With what wound he bleſt ſoule doth pine away? By what dart? what now, ſlacks your diſpoſition? I will not drink, except on this condition. What love ſo ere thee quels, it burnes thee yet With no baſe fires; and with ingenuous heat Thou ſtill doſt frie; what ere thou haſt, impart, Truſt it with my ſafe eares: Ah wretched heart! In what a vaſt Charybdis doſt thou tire, My boy more worthy of a better fire? What witch, or what inchanter can you free With his Theſſalian drugs? what deitie? Scarce Pegaſus ſhall theo once bound at ſtake From this three-ſhap't Chimaera ever take.

ODE XXVIII. An anſwer of Archytas, the Philoſopher, to a Saylor, concerning the common neceſſitie of death. THee the ſurve your both of ſea and land, And of the never to be numbred ſand, The ſmall gifts of a little duſt doe ſtay Thee, Archytas, neare the Calabrian bay: Nor dos it profit thee, (being to die) To have ſearcht heav'n, and run through the round skie In thy conceit. Why, Pelops father di'd, Though the gods gueſt; Tithonus too beſide Caught up into the aire: and Minos choſe One of loves privie-councell: hell doth cloſe Pythagoras once more to hell reſign'd, Though he the Trojan age calling to mind, By his erected ſhield, did dedicate Nought but his nerves and skin to cruell fate, Who (thou being judge) could no meane author bee Of Phyſicks, and of true moralitie. But there's one night for all men tarrieth, And the once-to-be-trodden path of death. Fiends on ſtern Mars doe ſome for ſport beſtow, The ſea's the greedie ſailors overthrow. Mixt funerals of old and young are heap't; Dire Proſerpine o're no mans head hath leap't: The ſouth-wind weſtern Orions rude mate too Me in th' Illyrian ocean orethrew. But thou (though cruell-hearted) Mariner Some of thy waſte ſand ſpare not to conferre Upon my bones and head unburied yet; So whatſoere the ſouth-eaſt wind may threat Upon the Spaniſh ſeas, while ſafe thou art, Let the Venuſian foreſt feele the ſmart; And may much traffick (whence it beſt may prove) Flow in unto thee from propitious love, And Neptunes hallowed Tarentine diety; But if you feare not to doe an impiety Harmfull unto thy harmleſſe progenie, My unpai'd rites and hard fate watch for thee; And till my prayer be anſwer'd He not bate, And thee no ſacrifice ſhall expiate. Though you make haſte, (it will be no long ſtay) Throw mould thrice on me, you may run your way.

ODE XXIX. TO ICCIUS. Wondring that hee ſhould turne from a Philoſopher to a ſouldier. TH' Arabians rich ſtore thou now envi'ſt, (O Iccius) and ſharp artillery bui'ſt 'Gainſt the Sabean Kings nere conquer'd yet, And for the horrid Mede thou chaines doſt knit. What barbarous virgin (her bettoth'd love ſlain.) Shall tend on thee? what boy of courtly ſtrain With perfum'd locks ſhall ſtand thy cup to fill, Who by his native archery hath skill To ſhoot the Parthian darts? Who will denie Steepe rivers may run up the mountains high, And Tiber turne, when as thou doſt aſſay To change Panaetius brave works away, Bought on all hands, and thy Socratick ware For Spaniſh beles; once promiſing ſo faire?

ODE XXX. TO VENUS. Praying her to come to Glycera's Temple. VENUS of Cnidus and of Paphos Queen, Scorn thy forſaken Cyprus, and come in To the neat Temple of my Glycera, Who with much incenſe dos unto thee pray. Let your moſt furious ſtripling com • with you, And looſe-roab'd Graces, and the Nymphs come too, And let youths goddeſſe come, (that without thee Is nothing beautifull) and Mercurie.

ODE XXXI. TO APOLLO. Requiring only health of body and minde, being he loved frugality. WHat craves the Prieſt from Phoebus moſt divine? What asks he, powring frō his bowle new wine? Not the full eares of fat Sardinia, Nor lovely herds of hot Calabria, Neither the Indian gold, nor Ivorie, Neither the fields which Lyris glideth by (That ſilent river with his quiet ſtream) They to whom fortune hath given vines, let them Prune them with hookes; and out of bowles of gold Let the rich merchant ſuck is wines were ſold For Syrian ware: he to the gods is deare, Becauſe he three or foure times in a yeare Unharm'd th' Atlantick Ocean can ſee. Olives and Succory doe nouriſh mee, And loos'ning Mallowes. Grant Latona's ſon, While I am ſtrong, that I may feed upon What next comes; and with perfect minde I pray To paſſe a ſweet and merry age away.

ODE XXXII. To his Lute. Praiſing it, from the comfort it yeelded Alcaeus. WE are deſir'd, if we (alone) have plaid Any thing on thee underneath ſome ſhade; Proceed my Lute, a Latine ſong tune ore, Which both this yeare may live, and many more. Thou firſt tun'd by that Lesbian citizen, Who (valiant man at armes) though he had been Amidſt his troups, or elſe had lanched out His navie from the waſht ſhores toſt about, Bacchus, the Muſes too, and Venus ſung, And her boy too that ever on her hung, And Lycus beautifull with his black eyes, And his black haire: O Lute, Apollo's prize, And lov'd at feaſts of mightie Iupiter, O thou my labours ſweeteſt temperer, All happineſſe be wiſht to thee from me, When in a comely ſort I ſummon thee

ODE XXXIII. TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS. Comforting him; that loving, was not beloved againe. DOe not thou grieve too much, bearing in mind, (O Albius) thy Glycera unkind, Nor tune ſad lays, 'cauſe one more young than thou Is more accepted, throw her cancell'd vow. The love of Cyrus doth Lycoris burne. Fam'd for her comely brow; Cyrus doth turne After rough-natur'd Pholoë; but firſt Kids ſhall among Apulian Wolves be nurſt, Ere Pholoë ſin with that loth'd Sodomite; For ſo to Venus it doth ſeeme moſt right, Whom it delights in brezen yoakes to bind With cruell ſport unequall ſhapes and mind. When once there ſu'd to me a love much better, Myrtale held me with a pleaſing fetter, That ſlave that lowder than the ſea could roare Of Adria curling the Calabrian ſhore.

ODE XXXIV. He forſaketh the irreligious Epiturcan ſect. THe gods but ſcarce and ſeldome worſhipper, While skill'd in mad Philoſophie I erre, I now am made to turne my ſailes perforce, And fall back to my long-forſaken courſe. For with bright flames the cloud dividing Iove His thunder-ſhod ſteeds, and ſwift charet drove Through the bright aire, with which the earth ſo great, The winding flouds, Styx, and the horrid ſeat Of hated hell, and the Atlantick border Is thorow-ſhaken: Iove can quickly order Small things inſtead of great, the man of worth He makes a begger, bringing hid things forth. The all-confounding fortune with lowd cry Hence had her height: on this ſhee loves to lye.

ODE XXXV. To Fortune. Praying her to preſerve Caeſar in his expedition againſt the Britains. GOddeſſe that pleaſing Antium doſt ſteare, Being potent from the loweſt ſtep to reare The putrifying bod • , and to turne The proudeſt triumphs • o the funerall urne: The Country poore ſwaine with his trembling vow Seeks thee; and who the Turkiſh ſeas doth plow With Greek ſhips, as the ſea's Queen honours thee: The Dacians fierce, and Scythians apt to flee From place to place, cities and nations too, And warlike Italy ſtands in awe of you, And barbarous Kings mothers are afeard, And Tyrants too with purple gore beſmear'd. O doe not thou wi • h a deſtructive foot Our firme fixt pillar from his baſis root, Nor let the gather'd rout to armes command Our quiet troupes, to armes, and waſte our land: Severe fate ever dos before thee paſſe, Carrying ſharp pikes in her hand of braſſe, And wedges; nor from it is ſevered The tort' • ing gibber, nor the molten lead. Hope, and Faith (ſeldome found) being veil'd ore With a white veſtiment, dos thee adore, Nor thee for her companion denies, When, as a foe thou leav'ſt great families, With thy chang'd robe: but the perfidious rout, And ſtrumpetizing perjur'd crue ſlinke out; "Friends, when our hogs-heads to the lees are drie, "Failing to beare the yoake with us, all flie. Guard Caeſar (ready now to ſet upon The Britain the worlds utmoſt nation) And our young ſouldiers freſh-waterd powers So Terrible to all the Faſterne ſhoares, And the Red-ſea: Ah, ah it ſhameth mee To thinke of home-bred skars and crueltie, And brother againſt brother. We, hard ſeed, what have we ſhunn'd? we, moſt accurſed breed, What left untri'd? when did our young-train'd band, In reverence to the gods, reſtrain their hand? What Altars did they ſpare? would heaven that you Would faſhion over upon an vills new Thoſe weapons to be hammer'd out againe Againſt the Goths and the Arabian traine.

ODE XXXVI. A gratulation for Numidas ſafe comming home, and an exhortation to be merry. I Love with frankincenſe and harmonie, And heifers vowed bloud to gratifie Numidas guarding deities, who again, Safely return'd from fartheſt part of Spain, Gives many kiſſes to his friends away, But to none more than his deare Lamia; Counting their youths ſpent under the ſame guide, And their gownes changed both at the ſame tide. Let not that glorious day want a white ſtone, Nor ſtop page of the pierced butt be knowne; And (as the manner of the Salis is) Let not our feet have reſt, nor Damalis, Pow'rfull to drink much wine, Baſſus controule With the long'ſt breath exceeding Thracian bowle. Let's want no roſes at our banquetting, Parſly ſtill green, • ilie • ſoone withering. And all ſhall caſt their eyes with luſt to ſtain'd On Damalis, yet ſhall not ſhee he train'd Away by any new adulterer, Though ſhee more fond than clinging Ivie were.

ODE XXXVII. Exhorting his compeeres to mirth for the victory at Actium. NOw muſt we drink, now freely dance, my mates, Now it is time to deck with Saliar cates, The table of the gods: it was a fault Of late to fetch wine from the ancient vault; When the Queen with a lothſome muſter'd breed, (A moſt infectious hoſpitall indeed) Hammer'd the fancied death and funerall Both of the Capitol and ſtate withall; Conceiting that ſhee any thing could doe, And being drunke with her ſweet fortune too: But ſcarce one ſhip eſcaping from the flame Pull'd downe her rage; and Caeſar new did frame Her ſoule, made drunk with her Aegyptian crowne, To reall feares, purſuing her ſtrait downe By ſea, when ſhe eſcap'd from Italy, (Like as the Hawke at the poore Dove doth fly, Or huntſman ſwift after a hare doth goe Through fields of Thrace quite cover'd ore with ſnow:) That he in chains the fatall beaſt might lay; But ſhe, who ſought to die a nobler way, Nor woman-like afraid of ſwords did ſtand, Nor with quicke ſailes fled toth Aegyptian ſtand; Who brave ſoule, durſt her ruin'd palace ſee, With countenance full of ſerenitie, And handle ſtinging ſnakes, that ſhe might draine Into her bodie their infectious bane; Growing by her determin'd death more ſtout; Scorning as captive to be borne about In ſtrong Liburnian ſhips in vaunting ſhow, Being a woman of a ſpirit not low.

ODE XXXVIII. Hee wills his boy to provide nothing but Myrtle to the ſetting forth of his banquet. BOy, I doe hate the Perſian nicetie, Their garlands bound with ribands pleaſe not mee, And doe not thou moleſt thy ſelfe to know In what place the late ſpringing roſe doth blow. I chiefly doe take care you ſhould provide To the plain Myrtle nothing elſe beſide; Myrtle will not ſhame thee my boy, nor mee Drinking beneath the ſhadowing vine-tree. The end of the first Booke of the Odes of Horace.

THE SECOND BOOKE of the Odes of HORACE.

ODE I. TO ASINIUS POLLIO. Hee deſireth him to lay aſide his admirable Tragedies, concerning the civill warres that had beene in Rome, and the ſeverall occurrences therein, till he have ſelled the affaires of the Common-wealth. Then hee commendeth him, and his rare expreſsions of the warre; whereunto hee adjoynes the deplorable calamitie occaſioned by their civill diſſentions. THe civill war, wag'd when Metellus was Our Conſul, and each battels ſeverall cauſe, And our corruptions, and State-alterations, And fortunes ſport & kings firme cōbinations, And weapons ſtain'd with bloud unexpiated (A worke with dangerous hazzard operated) Thou tak'ſt in hand, and thou on fires doſt tread Under deceitfull aſhes buri • d. Oh let the Muſe of your ſad Tragedie A ſhort time from the Theaters lie by: When thou haſt ordered State affaires a while, On to thy brave worke in thy Atticke ſtyle. Rare helpe to condemn'd ſoules oppreſt with woe, And thy-aid-craving Court, O Pollio, To whom in the Dalmatian victorie The Laurell gave eternall dignitie. Now with the Trumps dread noiſe my eares you fill, And now againe the Fiſes ſound very ſhrill; And now the armors gliſtering terrifies The praunſing horſes, and the horſemens eyes. Me thinkes I now doe mighty Captaines heare Beſmear'd with gracefull duſt ore every where, And all parts of the univerſe ſuppreſt, Excepting Cato's never daunted breſt. Iuno, and what ere Deitic more ſtable Unto the Affricans, yet being unable, Fled from their unavenged land away, Our Conquerors poſterity did ſlay In ſacrifice to Iugurth: Oh what field, Manur'd with Roman ſlaughter, does not yeeld A teſtimony of our wicked warr. Even from our graves; and the fame nois'd as fart As to the Perſians of Romes overthrow? What Ocean or what Rivers doe not know Our woefull battels, or what Oceans bay Have not our ſlaughters in Appulia Di'de of a crimſon colour? or what ſhore Has wanted any of our ſluced gore. But leſt (bold Muſe) leaving your ſports you uſe The office of Simonides his muſe, Upon a gentle r • ſtring thy meaſures move Alone with me under ſome lovely grove.

ODE II. TO C. SALUSTIUS Criſpus. There is no goodneſſe in the poſſeſſion of wealth, without the moderate uſe of it. He truly is a King, and a bleſſed man, that can command his deſires. THere is no beauty in the ſilver found While it is hid in the devouring ground, Criſpus Saluſtius thou foe to coyne, Unleſſe it with a moderate uſage ſhine. Let Proculeius live time unconfin'd, Fam'd towards his brothers for his fathers mind, And his ſurviving fame him up ſhall beare With wings that diſſolution doe not feare. Thou ſhalt more amply reigne, if thou confine Thy haughty ſpirit, than if thou Libya joyne To furtheſt Cales, and unto thee alone Both Carthaginians vow ſubjection. The direſelfe-glutting dropſie dos increaſe, Nor ſlakes the thirſt, till cauſe of the diſeaſe, And all the wateriſh corruption Out of the veines and the pale corps be gon. Vertue that rankes not with the vulgar breſt, Diſchargeth from the number of the bleſt Phrahates ſetled in the Perſian Throne, And new inſtructeth every nation On falſe opinions not to relie • ; Giving him a Kingdome, and firme Royalty, And perfect praiſe, who mighty heapes of gold Can with an uncorrupted eye behold.

ODE III. TO GELLIUS. Since we muſt die, the minde muſt neither be dejected in adverſity, nor puffed up in proſperity. REmember Gellius, ſince thou muſt die, To keepe a ſtrong mind in adverſitie, And in beſt ſtate from haughty glorying free, Whether thou all thy life time penſive be, Or whether that thou do'ſt thine owne ſelfe feaſt, Being in ſome ſecret Arbour laid to reſt, With long ſtor'd liquor of the Falerne Vine On every holiday, where the tall Pine, And white leav'd Poplar with their boughes doe love To knit in one an hoſpitable grove. What's here to doe? the gliding river prides To run with murmurs by his winding ſides. Goe bid the boyes bring wine and odours hither, And fragrant buds of Roſes that ſoone wither, While our eſtates, and yeeres, and blacke threed-skeanes Of the three ſiſters doe afford us meanes. You purchas'd fields, and houſe, and farme ſhall loſe, By which the yellow-ſanded Tiber flowes; Theſe you ſhall part from, and your heire ſhall reape Your riches raiſed to a mighty heape. It skils not whether you be rich in ſtore, Deſcended from old Inachus; or poore, And of the meaneſt ranck ith' fields doſt dwell; Thou'rt but a feaſt for all-devouring hell: Thither we all are driven, all mens fate Is ſhaken in one box, that ſoone or late Muſt have an end, and us in Charons wherrie To everlaſting baniſhment muſt ferry.

ODE IIII. TO XANTHIAS PHOCEUS. That hee ſhould not bee aſhamed to be captivated to the love of a maide. XAnthias Phoceuss let not a maides love Shame thee: the captive B • iſ • is did move Achiues, ſterne at firſt, with her faire looke; The beauty of captiv'd Tecmeſſa tooke The Lordly Ajax, ſonne of Telamon; And Agamemnon too was madd upon A captive maid, amidſt his victory, After the barb'rous troopes did ſlaughterd lye By the Theſſalian foe, and Hector ſlaine Laid open Troy now eaſier to be t'ane By the ore wearied Greeks: you cannot ſay Whether faire Phyllis princely parents may Grace thee their ſonne in law: for certainty, She do's bewaile her kingly family, And envious houſhold gods: thinke not that ſhe From a diſhoneſt ſtocke was choſe for thee; Nor one ſo loyall, ſo averſe from gaine, Sprung from a mother meriting diſdaine. I, from ſuſpicion free, doe highly prize Her armes, and face, and her ſmooth riſing thighes: Then ſcorne thou to ſuſpect the man, whoſe date Haſtens his fortieth yeare to conſummate,

ODE V. He dehorteth ſome one of his friends, from the love of Lalage, araw virgin, and not ripe for a husband. ON her tam'd necke ſhe yet can't undergoe The yoke, nor office of a bedfellow Can yet performe, nor beare the heavineſſe Of the bull that unto his luſt doth preſſe. Thy heifers mind is for the flowrie fields, That now neare ſtreames the toil ſome parching ſhields, Now love's mong calves in oſiers moiſt to play: Put the deſire of the ſowre grape away. Ere long the Autumne will diſplay to you, His blewiſh cluſters mixt with purple hue. Are long ſhe'l ſeeke you; for ſtrong age mak's haſte, And thoſe yeares, which it takes from thee, ſhall caſt All upon her; thy Lalage anon With fretted brow her mate ſhall ſet upon; So amiable, as not Pholoe So ſwift of foote, nor Chloris ere could be: She being with her ivory skin as bright, As the cleere moone ſhines in the ſea by night, Or Cnidian Gyges: whom if you would ſet Mong troupes of girles, he wonderouſly would cheat The prying gueſts (the difference ſcarce found out) with his looſe haires and lookes ſtill moving doubt.

ODE VI. TO SEPTIMIUS. He commendeth the ſweetneſſe of the aire about Tibur and Tarentum; that he would willingly end his dayes with Septimius in one of them. SEptimius, that muſt goe to Cales with me, And to the Spaniards that unuſed be To beare our yoakes, and to the barbarous ſhoares Where ſtill the Mauritanian Ocean roares: Would Tibur, by the Argive builder laid, Might be the manſion of my old age made; Be that the bound to him that's wearied quite With navigations, travellings, and fight. Which if the envious deſtinies deny, Unto Galeſus pleaſing ſtreamesile hie. Among the well fleec'd ſheepe, and to the land Rul'd by Laconian Phalantus hand. That plat of ground above all pleaſes me, Whoſe honies no worſe than Hymertian bee, And Olives with greene Venafran contend; Where Jove long ſprings, and winters warme doth ſend; And Aulon, loving to the fertile vines, Yeelds but a litle to the Falern wines. That portion, and thoſe glorious buildings too, Together with my ſelfe, doe wiſh for you; There with true teares you the warme duſt ſhall blend Of me that am thy Poet and thy friend.

ODE VII. TO POMPEIUS VARUS. He congratulateth his fellow-ſouldier Pompeius Varus his returne from warre. POmpey the chiefe of my aſſociates, That to the utmoſt hazzard of our fates Haſt oftentimes along with me been led, When Brutus of our Armies was the head; With whom in wine I oft the long day ſpent, Crowning my bright haires with my Syrian ſcent; Who hath reſtored thee a Citizen Unto our gods and Roman air agen? with thee I taſted of Philippi field, And ſwift flight (having baſely loſt my ſhield) Wher • our foil'd powers (and menacing before) The foule earth with their bodies covere dore. But trembling me ſwift Mercury did ſhrowd Thorow my enemies in a thickned cloud: But the flood, ſucking thee to warre againe, Once more committed to the raging maine. Now then to Jove thy vowed offerings pay; And thy corps, wearied with long warfare, lay Under my lawrell tree, and doe not ſpare My wine tubs that for thee appointed are. With care removing wine the ſmooth bowls fill, The oile from the capacious Jarres diſtill: Who will take order to make up for me Wreathes of moiſt praſley, or the myrtle tree? What arbiter will the Venerean throw Allow us for our healths? I will not now Be leſſe wilde then the Thradians: I delight Now my friend's ſafe return'd, to be foxt quite.

ODE VIII. Againſt BARINE a whore. Tis no wonder ſhee feares not to forſweare, being ſhee is nere ſtruck by heaven for it, but rather growes more beautifull after it. IF any puniſhment of perjurie, Barine, any time had harmed thee, Wert thou deform'd in one blacke tooth or naile, I ſhould beleeve: but thou, when thou doſt baile Thy perjur'd head with rowes, ſhin'ſt much more faire, And walkſt abroad, our young mens publicke care Your mothers hidden aſhes you may flight, And ſilent conſtellations of the night, With the whole heavens and gods from pale death ty'de Venus (I ſay) her ſelfe doth this deride, The plaine nymphes ſmile, and cruell Cupid, framing On bloody hones his arrowes ever flaming. Adde here, that all our youth to you improves, New ſervitors grow up, nor former loves The houſe of thee their impious miſtris quit, Although they oftentimes have threatned ir. Thee mothers, thee old fathers very • eare, In regard of their youthfull ſonnes doe feare, And wretched young girles wed awhile goe, Leſt that thy breath their husbands ſhould foreſt we.

ODE IX. TO VALGIUS. Hee counſels him to give o're mourning for his young boy Myſtes. FRiend Valgius, ſhowres doe not ſtill abound From forth the clouds upon the furrowed ground; Nor rough ſtormes on the Caſpian ſea doe roare, Nor ſtiffe ice ſtand on the Armenian ſhore, Nor Gargan woods are by the North wind ſhaken, Nor are the Aſh-trees of their leaves forſaken All the yeare long: yet thou doſt ſtill complaine In mournfull layes for Myſtes from thee tane, Nor ceaſe thy plaints when as the night doth riſe, Nor when againe it from the hot Sunne flies. But that old man who did three ages live, For ſweet Actilochus did not all times grieve; The parent and the Ph • ygian ſiſters thus • ewayl'd not alway • s beardleſſe Troilus. • eaſe thy ſoft plaints then, and lets rather raiſe Auguſtus Caeſars newly purchas'd pra • ſe, And ſtrong Niphates, and the Median river Mixt mongſt the conquerd nations, that deliver Their currents weaker; and the Scythians tide Within their bounds, in little cloſes ride.

ODE X. TO LICINIUS. That mediocrity and evenneſſe of minde, in both fortunes, are the beſt things to make our lives happy. LIcinius, thou ſhalt live more uprightly, If thou nor alwayes doe the Ocean try, Nor, while you warily the tempeſts feare, Too much along the uneven ſhore doe ſteare. Who loves the golden meane (ſecure) is free From filth of a foule cell: contented he Wants envie-moving towers: The tall pine oft • s ſhooke with winds; and turrets reard a loft Doe with the greater ruine downeward fall, And thunder ſtrikes the higheſt hils of all. The wel-armd breaſt hopes in his adverſe ſtate, Feares in faire weather a contrary fate: • ove brings rude winters, he doth them remove: If it be ill now, 'twill not ſtill ſo prove. Sometime Apollo raiſes his ſtill Muſe Unto his Lute, nor ſtill his Bow doth uſe. Thy ſelfe couragious and valiant frame In adverſe matters, and being ſtill the ſame, Thou very wiſely in againe ſhalt hale In a too proſperous wind thy ſwelling ſaile.

ODE XI. To Q. HIRPINUS. That we ſhould rather live merrily, then toile the mind with thought of things to come. QVintius Hirpine ceaſe to enquire what The warlike Spaniard and the Scythian plot, Parted by th'interpoſed Adrian waves; Nor be thou troubled for thy life that craves But a few things for its neceſſitie: Smooth youth and comelineſſe away doe flie; While withered hoary heads away doe keepe The wanton dallyings, and gentle ſleepe. The ſpring flowers beauty is not ſtill the ſame, Nor doth the bright Moone ſtill with one ſhape flame. Why doſt thou weary out thy ſoule that is Too weak for the eternall my ſteries? Under this tall Plane, or this Pine being laid Thus careleſly, and our white haires diſplaid With roſes, and being dreſt with Syrian nard, Why, while we may doe't, do we not drinke hard? Bacchus diſpelleth carping cares away: What boy will quickly now our cups allay Of heady wine, with the by gliding ſpring? Who will the by lan'd harlot Lyde bring Out of her doores? goe and command that ſhe Doe with her ivory lute make haſt come, In a ſmooth comb'd knot having ty'd her haire, So as the faſhions of the Spartans are.

ODE XII. TO MAECENAS. Grave and tragicke matters will not agree with the wantonneſſe of his lyricke verſes: that Maecenas may better write the acts of Auguſtus in proſe. DOe not command that to the lutes ſoft ſtrings Cruell Numances tedi • us quarrellings, Sterne Annibal, or ſeas of Sicilie, Made red with Punicke blood, ſhould fitted be; Nor cruell Lapy thae, nor Hyleus flam'd Too much with wine, nor the earths youngſters tam'd By th'hand of Hercules, whence the bright ſphere Of ancient Saturne did deſtruction feare. And thou, Maecenas, better ſhalt diſpoſe The wars of Caeſar in thy workes of proſe, And necks of threatning Kings dragg'd through the ſtreet: But my muſe bids me praiſe the muſicke ſweet Of my Licinia, and her eyes bright-ſhining, And breaſt moſt loyall to our loves conjoyning: Whom it nor misb: ſeem'd her foot to fit In dances, nor to ſport in jeſt, nor knit Her armes 'mong comly virgins, being at play On honoured Dianaes holy day. Would you exchange for my licinias haire The wealth that rich Achemenes did ſhare; Or fertile Phrygias Mygdonian prize, Or the Arabians full treaſuries? While ſhe doth yeeld her head to fragrant kiſſes, Or with mild ſcorne denies; which yet ſhe wiſhes, More than the ſuitor, he from her would ſnatch, And ſometimes doth prevent him, and firſt catch

ODE XIII. Curſing a tree with fall wherof in his own ground he had almoſt beene killed, hee thence proveth that dangers of death do compaſſe men every houre when they leaſt think of them: the praiſes of Sappho and Alcaeus, whoſe ſongs (eſpecially Alcaeus his) moved admiration even in the Ghoſts themſelves. TRee, he did plant thee in a day accurſt, And with a wicked hand, who ſet thee firſt To the deſtruction of Poſteritie, And to our townes diſgrace; I beleeve he Broke his owne fathers necke, and did all o're Beſineare his houſe with his gueſts night ſhed gore: He Colchick poiſons, and what ever ſin Can any way be thought on, traded in; Who thee ſad truncke ſet in my field, to fall On thy lord: head not meriting it all. "Men never can take heed ſufficiently "Of what at all houres every one ſhould flie: The Ca • thaginian Saylour feares the Straits, Nor farther doth he dread his hidden fates. Our band the Parthians darts, and nimble flight, The Parthian feares our chains and Reman might: But yet he deſtinies unſearched power Hath ſwallowed and all nations will devoure. How near ſaw I blacke Proſerpines whole ſtations, And judging Aeacus, and ſixt ſituations Of holy ſoules, and Sappho who did carpe Againſt her country dames on her Greeke harpe; And thee Alcaeus, on thy golden ſtrings, Sounding out ſea fights cruell ſufferings, The cruell ſuffering of baniſhment, Wars cruelties with a more full conce • t? The ghoſts admire they both could chaunt upon Things worth their hallowed attention; But rather far, battels, and tyrants ſlaine The crowding rout doe in their cares retaine. What wonder? when the hundred-headed hound Hags his blacke eares, amaz'd at ſuch a ſound, And • ll the Adders woven in the haire Of the Eumenides, refreſhed are. Nay both Proneth • us too, and Pelops ſire Are eas'd of torments by their pleaſing quire, Nor doth Orion care to follow hard The Lion, or the panting Leopard.

ODE XIIII. TO POSTHUMUS. Since death waits for all, Poſthumus ſhould not ſpare thoſe riches which his heire after him will waſte- Ah, Poſthumus, the ſwift yeares glide away, Nor can thy pietie procure a ſtay For wrinckles, ſwift age, and ſterne death; though ſtill You ſhould, my friend, relentleſſe Pluto fill With full three hundred Buls, through the yeares courſe. Him who three bodied Gerion doth force, And Titvus in ſad ſtreames; the which indeed, By all of us (who on the bleſſings feed Of this earth) muſt be throughly paſſed ore, Whether that we be kings, or peſants poore. In vaine we ſhall from ſtern death fly away, And the daſht waves of bellowing Ad • ia; In vaine we from the Sou • h wind ſhall us arme That every autumne doth our bodies harme: Foggy Cocytus we muſt all goe ſee, Which wanders with his ſtreames thatlazie bee, And Danaus hated ſtocke, and Siſiphus The long toile-ſuffering ſonne of Aeolus. You land, and houſe, and pleaſing wife muſt leeſe, Neither ſhall any one of all thoſe trees Which you poſſeſſe, ſave Cypreſſes ab • orr'd, Attend on thee their quickly periſht Lord. A worthier heire ſhall drinke thy wines quite dry, Kept with a hundred lockes, and he ſhall dye His ſtately pavement with farre better wine, Then that at banquets of the Prieſts divine.

ODE XV. He condemnes their great pride in building, and praiſes the frugalitie of old time. OUr princely edifices will allow But a few acres for the ploughſhare now: On every ſide our fiſh-ponds ſhall be ſeene More ſpacious then the Lucrine fen hath beene. The ſingle Plane-tree ſhall the Elme excell: Then violets, myrtles, and all kinds of ſmell Shall odours in thoſe olive yards afford, That have beene fertile to their former Lord. A ſet of bay trees, thicke with branches, then The parching ſun-beames out from them ſhall pen; 'Twas not decreed by th'act of R • mulus And unſhav'd Cato, and the ancients thus. The private wealth with them was very ſmall, The Common wealth was then the chiefe of all: No Galleries of ten foot meaſured forth, 'Mong private men, ſtood toward the ſhady North; Nor did the lawes permit them to d •• daine The homely graſſe; commanding them againe To build their Townes up at the publick charge, And the gods Temples with new ſtones enlarge.

ODE XVI. TO GROSPHUS. That all deſire tranquillity of minde, but few obtaine it. THe ſea-man prayeth to the gods for eaſe, Being toſt upon the vaſt Aegean ſeas, When a blacke cloud ha's hid the Moone, and Stars Appeare uncertaine to the Marinars: Furious Thrace for reſt from war doth ſue; The Medes, adorned with their quivers too, Doe beg for eaſe, ô Groſphus, that is ſold Neither for gemmes, nor purple robes, nor gold, For neither can the Magazines of ſtore, Nor Conſuls officer thruſt out of dore The conſciences afflictive terrifying, And cares about the fretted chambers flying. He with a litle does contented dine, On whoſe ſmall board his fathers ſalt doth ſhine, Neither deſpaire, nor ſordid coveting His gentle ſlumbers ere from him ſhall wring. Why doe we proud ſoules in our ſpan age plot A many things? why unto lands made hot With different Sunnes run we? who being baniſh'd From his own ſoile, hath from his own ſelfe vaniſh'd? Vicious care the braſſe-keel'd ſhips doth ſcale, Neither from troupes of horſe-men doth it faile, More nimble than t • e Roes, and far more ſwift Then the Eaſt wind that ſets the clouds adrift. The mind that for the preſent time is light, To care for what ſhall follow, let it ſlight, And with ſweet laughter temper all things tart: Ther's nothing proſperous in every part. A ſudden death did brave Achilles ſlay, Ling • ing age pin'd Tithonus quite a way; And time perhaps may unto me betide The thing which it hath unto thee de • ide. An hundred flocks, and kine of Sicilie Doe round about thee bellow; unto thee The Mare fit for the teeme doth raiſe her cry; Garments twice dipt in Affricke ſca let die Cloath thee: my never-failing fare did daigne To me ſome ſmall grounds, and a ſlender veine Of Graecian poeſie, and with it beſide The ſtill-malicious vulgar to deride.

ODE XVII. TO MAECENAS being ſicke. That there is ſuch union of ſoules betweene him and Maecenas, that he nor can, nor will live without him. WHerefore with thy complaints unſoul'ſt thou me? Pleaſing unto the gods it cannot be Nor me, that thou, Maecenas, firſt ſhouldſt die, My ſtates great glory and ſecuritie. Ah, if a ſwifter fare ſnatch thee away The one halfe of my ſoule, why doe I ſtay • hat • m the other, that cannot ſurvive Tor deare unto my ſelfe, nor all alive? The day ſhall worke the ruine of us both; N • ave not taken a perfidious oath: ' 〈◊〉 Wee'l goe, wee'l goe, when thou the • ay ſhalt lead, Prepar'd companions our laſt path to tread. Me nor the fiery Chimera's flame, Nor hundred handed Gyas, if he came, Shall ever part: it pleaſed on this wiſe All-p • tent Juſtice and the deſtinies. Whether the Scales or horrid Scorpion (My birth-houres ſtronger part) lookes me upon, Or Capricorn the Weſterne Oceans lord, Yet both our ſtars in wondrous ſort accord. Thee Joves refulgent turelage tooke backe From impious Saturne, and the wings did ſlacks Of ſwift fate, when the people, gathering round, Thrice in the Thea'tre made a joyfull ſound: A tree upon my head almoſt fal'ne downe Had murdered me, if Faunus had not throwne The force of it aſide with his right hand, (The Governour of the Mercurrial band) Remember thou thy offerings to pay, And thy vowd temple: woe'l a meeke lambe ſlay.

ODE XVII. That he liveth content with his owne lot, and meane fortune, while others toile themſelves in building magnificent Palaces, even with the oppreſſion of the poore; as if they had forgot that the ſame common neceſſitie of dying lies on them, that lies on others. NOrivory, nor golden roofe doth ſhine In any manſion of mine; Nor beames, fetcht from Hymettus, ſtay On pillars cut from fartheſt Affrica: Nor have I ever (as an heire unknowne) Uſurped Attalus his throne; Nor doe our lames that honeſt be Spin their Laconicke purple wooll for me. But I have muſicke, and a vein of wit Ful-flowing, and the rich ſubmit To me a poore man: nothing more Then this is doe I of the gods implore; Nor greater gifts of my great friends requeſt, In my one Sabine field well bleſt. Day is ſtill expell'd by day, And new moones doe increaſe to wane away. Thou marble ſtones to be hewen out doſt hire, Near upon thy funerall fire; And, mindleſſe of thy Sepulcher, Buildſt houſes, and doſt ſtrive the ſhoares to weare Of the ſea neare the bathes making a ſound, Not rich enough on the firme ground. Why? cauſe you your next land-marks waſte, And greedy o're your tenants fences haſte: The man and wife is thruſt out, at their breſt Bearing their gods and brats undreſt. Yet no houſe ſurer doth attend The rich lord, then devouring hels fixt end. Why ſeeke you more? "the earth alike muſt bee "For the poore man, as kings ſonnes free. Hels porter (nere with bribes oretane) Cunning Promotheus hath not freed againe. He the proud Tantalus cloſe up doth tye, And Tantalus his progenie. "Call'd, or not call'd, he prepares To eaſe the dying begger of his cares.

ODE XIX. TO BACCHUS. It is meet for him to ſing Bacchus his prayſes. I Bacchus in remoteſt rocks did ſee Teaching his ſong (beleev't poſteritie) And Nymphes a learning, and the prickt up cares Of the Goat-footed Satyres: with freſh feares My ſoule doth Evoe utter; and my breſt Fall gorg'd with Wine, doth rumblingly egeſt Evoe: O Bacchus ſpare me, ſpare me thou All dreadfull with thy fatall ivie bough, It very fitting is for me to ſing Thy wanton Thyades, and thy wines ſpring, And thy full ſtreame of milke to chant againe, And hony dropping from the hollow cane: It's ſit for me to deſcant on the Crowne Of thy bleſt wife, among the ſtais fixt downe; And Penibeus houſe thrown down with no meane blow, And Thracian Lycurgus overthrow. Thou rivers, thou the barb'rous ſea doſt ſtill, Thou, throughly drench't on ſome retired hill, Together in a viperous knot doſt charme The Th • acian womens treſſes without harme. When as the Gyants impious Company Aſſail'd your fathers kingdome through the sky, You Rhoecus with his lyons pawes orethrew, And with his horrid jawes: although that you Being held more fit for maskes, and playes, and ſport, As one ſcarce fit for warre had the report; Yet thou waſt found for peace indifferent, And war too: Cerberus, then innocent, Saw thee adorned with the golden Crowne, Wagging his taile full gently up and downe; And with's three-tongu'd chaps 'bout the feet did play, And legs of thee when thou didſt part away.

ODE XX. TO MAECENAS. That he hath got himſelfe immortall glory by his poems, and that he ſhall be famous with theremoteſt and moſt barbarous nations. I A two ſhaped poet will not flye With cōmon and mean wings through the moiſt skye; Nor to the earth will any longer cleave, And above envie I the world will leave. I the ſucceſſion of my parents poore, I, deare Maecenas, whom thou doſt implore, Will not quite periſh, neither will I be Stayd in the Stygian poole continually. Now, now rough skin upon my thighes doth grow, And I a ſilver Swan am turnd unto In all my upper parts, and gentle downe Upon my fingers and my armes is growne. Now ſwifter than Daedalean Icarus I'l ſee the ſhores of roaring Boſphorus, (Being a ſweet voic'd Cygnet) and the ſands Of Aſtricke, and the Hyperborean lands. The Colchick and the Dacian me ſhall know, Who at our Marſian troupes a feare doe ſhow: The remote Scythes, and Spaniard valiant, And alſo Rhodanus inhabitant. Far be ſad tunes from my mean obſequies, And ſqualid lamentations and cries; Keepe to your ſelfe all clamors, and defer The needleſſe duties of my Sepulcher. The end of the ſecond Booke.

THE THIRD BOOKE Of the Odes of HORACE.

ODE I. Bleſſedneſſe conſiſts not in wealth or honour, but in quietneſſe and contentedneſſe. I Doe abhorre the multitude prophane, And chaſe them hence: do ye your tongues reſtraine. I prieſt unto the Muſes, warble ore To maids, and young men, ſongs nere heard before: "Dreadfull kings power is ore their proper drove, "Ore kings themſelves is the command of Iove, Made famous in the gyants victorie, And over ruling all things with his eye. It may be one man than another, may His trees more largely in his furrowes lay; This a more generous ſuitor may deſcend Into the field; another may contend Better in his conditions and report; More ſtore of client may to him reſort; "Death by the ſame law, high and low doth take, His ſpacious lotterie every name doth ſhake. Over whoſe vile head hangs a naked ſword, Neither Sicilian dainties can afford A pleaſing reliſh to him, nor the ſtraine Of birds and lutes reduce his ſleepe againe: Sweet ſleepe diſdaines not countrie clownes low ſheads, And ſhadie bankes, and Zephyre-fanned meade • . Him that deſireth onely whats enough, Neither the Ocean ſea, being made rough, Nor cruell raging of the falling Beare, Or riſing Capricorne can ſtrike with feare: Neither his vineyards batter'd with the haile; Nor plat of ground that dos of bearing faile, While now the trees doe at the waters carpe, Now at earth-parching ſtars, now winters ſharpe. The very fiſhes feele the ocean ſhrunke With huge foundations in their bottome ſunke The buſie purchaſer, and landlord (growne Wearie oth'land) ſends hither his hew'ne ſtone, With workmen; but "deſpaire and horror got "That way their maſter dos; nor will black woe "Depart from the braſſe-armed keele, and it "Even behind the horſemans back dos ſit. But if not Phrygian ſtone, nor purples ſhine, More glorious than the ſtars, nor Falerne wine, Nor Weſterne ſhrubs can eaſe the grieved ſpirit, Wherefore with pillars that may envie merit, And in a new invented way ſhall I A high exalted palace edifie? Wherefore ſhall I exchange my Sabine grove For riches that more troubleſome will prove?

ODE II. An exhortation to endure hardneſſe and povertie. LEt the tough youth in bitter war-fare try Eaſily to endure hard povertie, And like a dreadfull horſeman, with his ſpeare, Strike the ore-daring Parthians with feare, And in the open field to lead his life, And dangerous adventures; while the wife Of the encounting king, and the ripe bride. From off their hoſtile walls, having him ſpide, She Id ſigh (alas!) for feare her princely mate, Unskilful of the wars, ſhould initate This ſame incenſed lion with his blowes, Whom bloody rage through midſt of ſlaughters throwes. "It is a ſweet and glorious thing to die "For our owne countrie: Death dos even flie "After the flying man, nor dos he ſlack "From ſaint-heart youths heeles, and the fearfull back. "Valour, that baſe repulſes cannot know, "With unſtain'd honours dos refulgent grow, "And by the ſuffrage of the peoples breath, "Nor receives honours, nor ſurrendereth. "Valour that dos ſet heaven wide ope for thoſe "That merit not to die; its journey goes "Through invious we yes, and with a ſoaring wing "Bove vulgar troopes and the dull earth dos ſpring, There's ſure pay too for faithfull ſecrecy: I will forbid that he, who ſhould deſcry Night ador'd Ceres ſacrifice, ſhould be Under the ſame roofe, and lanch out with me My ſlender bark: Iove, often, being ſlighted, Hath to the full the wicked man requited. "Tourture with limping feet ſeldome gives ore "The wicked man that trips away before.

ODE III. The power of justice and conſtancy: Juno's propheſie of the ſtabilitie of the Romane empire. THe juſt man, and unto his purpoſe ſtanding, Not rage of citizens had things commanding, Not threatning tyrants frowne, from his firme mind Can ſtartle him, nor yet the Southern wind, The tumbling Adria's rumbling governer. Nor mighty hand of thundring Iupiter; Though the world fall on him, in ſunder fylle, The ruine on't ſhall him undaunted hit. Pollux, and the far-wandring Hercules Stearing this courſe on the bright ſpheres did ceize, Among the whom Augustus being layd, Drinks Nectar with his lips all purple made. Thee, father Bacchus, this way meriting, Thy tygers, on their rude neck carrying The yoake, did raiſe thee: Romul • s did part From hell on Mars his horſes by this art: When Iuno pleaſingly ſpake in this ſort To all the Gods aſſembled then in court: An evill-omend Umpire, and unjuſt, And a ſtrange woman turnes Troy into duſt, Of me, and chaſte Minerva too abhorr'd, Both with the nation, and deceitfull lord, Ere ſince the time in which Laomedon Deni'd the gods their due agreed upon. The Spartan ſtrumpers para'mour infamous Now triumphs not, not Priams perjar'd houſe Weakens the fighting Greekes by Hectors aid; And the war by our diſcords tedious made, Is ended; from hence-forth my ſpleene ſevere And hated kinſman whom that Nun did beare From Troy deſcended, I will now beſtow Oa Mars againe: him will I grant to goe Unto the bright ſpheres, Nectars juyce to taſte, And'mong the gods bleſt orders to be plac't: So a vaſt ſea 'twixt Troy and Rome may rore, O may this exile-breed on any ſhore Reigne glorious: ſo long as any drove O're Priamus and Paris grave may r • ve, And wilde beaſts fearleſſe there their whelps may hide, Refulgent may the Capitol abide, And ſ • o • ne Rome give the conquer'd Medes a law; Dreadfull far off may ſhee her knowledge draw Even unto the fartheſt continent, (What way the Ocean interjacent Furopa from the Affrican d • s bound, What way the ſwelling Nile the fields doth drownd) More valiant in deſpiſing unfound gold, And ſo beſt plac't when earth doth it enfold, Than in congeſting it for humane uſing, With a hand every ffollowed thing abuſing. What part o'th' world ſo e're ſtands out unknowne, That with her armies let her land upon, Thi • ſting to ſee what way the fire, and where The cloud, and watry dewes doe dominere. But to the warlike Romans I preſent Theſe fates on this ground; if (too pious bent, And too much truſting their owne ſtrength) they ne're Will old Troyes Palaces anew upreare. Troyes pride renewing with an ill ſtari'd fate, With ſad deſtruction ſhall be ruinare, While I the wife and ſiſter too of Iove Will my victorious armies onward move. Thrice ſhould there riſe againe a brazen wall, And Thoebus author on't; thrice ſhould it fall, Raz'd by my Greekes: the captive wife thrice o're Her husband and her children ſhould deplore. Theſe things agree not to my ſporting Lute; Muſe, whither wilt thou? wanton thing be mute Th'orations of the deities to relate, And brave things with baſe layes t'attenuate.

ODE IV. Hee is guarded by the Muſes, and takes advice from them: power without counſell periſhes. DEſcend from heaven, O Queen Calliope, And ſound an everlaſting harmonie Upon thy pipe, or, if you it deſire, With your ſhtill voice, or harps, or Phoebus lyre. D'ee heare? or d • s a pleaſing lunacie Enfatuate me? for me thinks that I Doe heare it, and doe range through the bleſt grove, 'Bout which the pleaſant ſprings and winds doe rove. On the Apulian Vulturs hilly ground, Beyond my fabulous nurſe Apulia's bound, Me, then a boy, with play and ſleepe miſſe-led, The ring-doves with freſh green leaves covered: That might ſeeme ſtrange to all thoſe that poſſeſt The loſtie ſeated Acherontia's neſt, And Bantine paſtures, and the fertile ground Of low Ferentum; that, my body ſound From poiſoned Snakes, and Beares, I ſhould ſleepe there, That I with laurell boughes that ſacred were, And gather'd myrtles over-ſpread ſhould bee; (An infant hearten'd by ſome deitie.) Your votary, yee Muſes, only yours, I'm drawne up to the craggie Sabine bowers; Or whether the ſteepe-ſited Tibur hath Delighted me, or the ſerene-air'd Bath. Me friend unto your fountains and your traine, Our armie from Philippi chas'd amaine O'rethrew not, nor that curſed piece of wood, Nor Palinure in the Sicilian flood. When you ſhall be with me, I willingly The raging ſtraights will as a ſailor try, And, as a traveller, I will paſſe o're The parching ſands of the Aſſyrian ſhore: Ple ſee the Brittaines cruell to their gueſts, And Concanus with horſes bloud that • eaſts; Ple viſit the Geloni quiver-arm'd, And river of the Scythians unharm'd. You recreate in your Pierian grove The Mightie Coeſar, lab'ring to remove His troubles, when he in his garriſons Has lodged up his war-ſpent legions. You, heavenly ſoules, gentle advice beſtow, And glory in't, being ſo given: we know How he with falling lightning overthrew The impious Titans, and their ſavage crew; He who with unmov'd pow'r the unmov'd land, And floating ſe • , and cities doth command, And ſad-doom'd kingdomes, and the gods beſide, And mortall multitudes alone doth guide. Thoſe horrid monſters on their armes relying, Did ſtrike in Iove a mightie terrifying, And all their brothers alſo menacing On ſhadi'e Olympus Pelion to fling. I, but what could Typhoeus then have done, Strong Mimas, and ſterne-lookt Porphyrion? What Rhoecus, and the Archer impudent, Enceladus, with trees by th'roots up rent, Ruſhing 'gainſt Pallas ſhining Aegis? here Stood greedie Vulcan, Matron Iuno there, And he who from his ſhoulders ne're will ſpare His archery, who drenches his looſe haire In the pure fountaine of Caſtalia, Who dos the champian ground of Lycia ſway, And grove fam'd for his place of birth; Apollo, Whom Delos and whom Patara doth ballow. "Pow'r void of poli'cie ſinks with its owne waight', "We'l-temper'd ſtrength the gods doe propagate "To greater force: they doe the powers deteſt, "That raiſe up all infection in our breſt. The hundred-handed Gyas is well knowne The witneſſe of my truths, and Orion, He who the chaſt Diana injured, And by the Virgins ſhaft was puniſhed. Th' earth caſt on her owne monſters, dos lament, And grieves her children are with thunder ſent To ſ • orie hell, nor can the fires ſwiſt ſome Aetna, injected on them, yet conſume. I, and the vulture never dos ſo beare The heart of Tityus the ravither, Being ſet the tort'rer of his luſtfulneſſe; Three hundred chains luſtfull Pirithous preſſe.

ODE V. Of Auguſtus his victorie over the Britains: the d • ſhonourable condation of Craſſus ſouldiers taken captive: Regulus ſpeech to the Senate, exhorting them not to redeeme their captives from Carthage. WE beleev'd thundring love reignes in the skie; Auguſtus here a gracious deitie Shall be eſteem'd; now that the Britaines be, And fatall Medes joyn'd to his empirie. Could Craſſus ſouldiers then with barb'rous wives, (Being diſhonour'd husbands) lead their lives? And; ô our State and manners altered!) Could then our Marſians, and Apulians bred, Grow ancient men in the def • nce of thoſe Now fathers in law to them, once their foes, Under a Perſian king, for getting ſtraight Their divine thields, their glory, and their State, And alſo Veſtaes never dying fire, love and our Citie Rome being ſtill intire? Regulus prudent mind this thing prevented, Who from their baſe conditions diſſented, And from a preſident might ruine fling Upon the after-ages following; If that our captive-ſouldiers might not be Without all pitie loſt. I ſaw, ſaid he, Our enſignes in the Punick temples hung, And ſwords, without blowes, from our ſouldiers wrung; I alſo did their citizens armes behold Behind their now-free-backs together roll'd, And gates not ſhut, and fields now tilled o're Diſpoiled by our armies heretofore. Sure our gold-ranſom'd ſouldiers will agin Come on more fierce; you adde unto your ſia A detriment; "wooll being dipt in grain, "Can never after his loſt hue regain? "Nor dos true vertue, when it's once ſunk down, "Care to be lodg'd in men that worſe are grown. If the Stagge, from the thick laid nets got free, Will ſtand to fight, then will he valiant bee Who to perfidious foes himſelfe did yeeld; Then will he vanquiſh in a ſecond field The Carthaginians, who (faint-heart) did weare Thongs on his fetter'd armes, and death did feare. He being ignorant from whence to take His life, in midſt of war a league did make: O ſhame, O mightie Carthage, made more high By the opprobrious falls of Italy. 'Tis ſaid, as one condemn'd to loſe his life, He put from him the kiſſe of his chaſte wife, And children ſmall, and (looking ſternly,) bound His manly countenance upon the ground; While he the faltring Senators ſet even, With counſell, ſuch as like it ne're was given; And in the midſt of all his friends agaſt, This noble exile to his journey paſt. Yet what the barb'rous hangman did deviſe For him, he knew: yet he no otherwiſe His remorating kindred did adjourne, And all the people ſtopping his returne, Then if, the terme being done, he did withdraw From all his clients tedious ſuits of Law; To the Venafran fields taking his way, Or to Tarentum of Laconia.

ODE VI. To the Romans. The b • ſeneſſe of the preſent age, and the braveneſſe of the former ages. O Roman, thou, although thou guiltleſſe bee, For thy fore-fathers ſins ſhalt puniſht bee, Till thou the gods ſhrines, and their Fanes decay'd And ſtatues, foul'd with black ſmoke, new haſt made. "That to the gods your ſelfe you ſubject make, "Therein you reigne: henceall beginnings take, "Hither each iſſue bring: the gods, neglected, "Have many plagues on wofull Spain injected. Moneſes twice, and Pa • orus his powers, Have batter'd theſe ill-fated troopes of ours, And are grown proud that they have ta'neaway Them in their little fetters, as a prey. The Dacian and the Moore have quice eraſed Our cities with ſedition neere defaced: The one being in his ſhipping formidable, The other in ſwift-flying darts more able. Our times, full-ſwolne with ſin, firſt overthrew Our marches, kinreds, and our houſes too: Deſtruction, from thi fountaine running downe, Has o're the countrie and the people flowne. The new ripe girle delighteth to be taught Jonick dances, and is nimble wrought In all her joynts, and from her tendes yeares Her unchaſtelongings in her mind ſhe beares. Straight ſhe more wanton paramours purſues Amidſt her husbands cups; nor dos ſhee chuſe One to whom ſhee by ſtealth may deale about Her lawleſſe pleaſures when the lights are out; But before folkes, being bid, ſhe up doth git, And not without her husband knowing it; Whether ſome Clerke, or Spaniſh-ſhip-maſter (Deare buyer of diſgraces) • ummon her. Our youngſters, from ſuch parentage deſcended, The ſea with Carthaginian bloud nere blended; Nor Pyrrhus, nor Antiochus the great And the abhorred Annibal did beat: But a ſtout crue of ruſtick Camerades, Skill'd to digge up the clods with Sabine ſpades, And to beare home their timber hewed downe By their auſtere mothers direction; At ſuch time as the Sun the ſhades did alter Upon the kills, and did the yokes unhalter From the roil'd oxen, making to approach Nights, pleaſing time with his declining coach. "What dos not waſtefull time bring to worſe paſſe? "Our fathers age, worſe than our grand-ſires was, "Bred us far wickeder, who, by and by, "Shall ſhew a far more vitious progenie.

ODE VII. TO ASTERIE. Comforting her in the abſence of her husband, and exhorting her to conſtancie. WHy doſt thou weepe for him, Aſtorie, Whom the milde weſt-winds will reſtore to thee, By the Springs comming in, with Thyne ware breſt, Thy young man Gyges of a loyall breſt? To Oricus he by the South-winds borne After the raging ſtars of Capricorne, The freezing nights, not without many teares, Yet without any ſleepe, away he weares. And yet a much-enticing harlots ſquire, Telling how Chloë dos in ſighs expire, And how poore wretch ſhe in thy fires doth frie, The cunning knave a thouſand wayes dos trie. He tells how a perfidious woman train'd Credulous Praetus with ſuggeſtions fain'd, Againſt the over-chaſte Bellerophon, To haſte his death: then he proceedeth on, How Peleus was nie ſent to death, while he Magneſſian Hippolyte did flee, Being abſtinent: and this ſlie knave brings in Hiſtories educating men to ſin. But all in vaine: for he, as yet ſincere, More de afe than Icarus rocks his words dos heare; Yet take thou heed leſt, more than fit may bee, • ripeus thy neare neighbour worke on thee. Though not a man, equally skill'd to • ide Upon a horſe, in Mars his field is ſpi'd, No any man, equally ſwift like h • m, • horow the Tuſcan channell downe dos ſwim. At the nights entrance ſh • t thy doores, nor gaze, At his pipes ſad ſound, into the high wayes; And unto him calling thee oft unkind, Continue thou of an unſhaken mind.

ODE VIII. TO MAECENAS. Exhorting him to mirth on the Calends of March. THou being skill'd in both tongues dialect, Admir'ſt what I a batchelor project On Marches Calends; what my flowers require, And pot with incenſe fill'd, and coale of fire Laid on the freſh green turfe; pomiſe I did Sweet cates to Bacchus, and a milk-white kid; Being neare kill'd with a trees fall: This day Sacred each New-yeares tide, ſhall take away The pitch-clos'd ſtoppell from the kilde • kin Ordain'd to keepe the headie liquor in, When Tullus Conſul was. Maecenas taſte A hundred healths of thy ſav'd friend, and waſte Thy watching tapers till the break of day; All quarelling and rage be far away. Thy ſtrict cares for the citie let alone: Slain are the troopes of Dacian Cotiſon; The Median, to himſelfe a deadly ſoe, With wofull wars dos all to peeces god. Our ancient foe upon the ſhore of Spain, The Biſcaynere tam'd in our lare-forg'd chain, Is ſlave to us; the Scythians doe diſpoſe To fly out of the field with unbent bowes. Then, in a remiſſe way, deſiſt to heed, O're much, of what the people ſtands in need, (Being retir'd) and of the preſent howre Receive the pleaſures, and caſt off the ſowre.

ODE IX. TO LYDIA. A dialogue for reconcilement. HOR. AS long as I was pleaſing unto thee, And not a man, better eſteem'd than mee, His armes about thy ivory neck did fling, I flouriſht braver than the Perſian King. LYD. While with another thou waſt not more fir'd, Nor Lydia after Chloë was deſir'd; I Lydia of great fame did beare a ſway, Far brighter than the Roman Ilia. HOR. The Thracian Chloë dos command me now, Skill'd in ſweet ſongs, and well her Lute dos know, For whom to ſuffer death I will not feare, So fates will her ſurviving ſoule for beare. LYD. • alais, Thurine Ornithus his ſon, • n flames me with a like affection; For whom I will endure ev'n twice to die, • f fates will my ſurviving boy paſſe by. HOR. What if our ancient love returne againe, And binds us ſtraglers in a brazen chaine; • f beauteous Chloè be caſhier'd away, And doore ſtands ope for caſt-of Lydia? LYD. Although that he be brighter than a ſtar, Thou lighter than a corke, and fiercer far Than the rude Adriatick ſea; yet I Would love to live with thee, would freely die.

ODE X. TO LYCE. Exhorting her not to be proud, but pitifull to him. LYCE, didſt thou at utmoſt Tanais live, Wed to a ſavage man, yet would you grieve To caſt me to your neighb'ring northerne wind, Being before your frozen doores reclin'd. Heare you with what a creaking noiſe the doore, And how the grove againſt the wind do's roare, Being planted 'mong the pleaſant roomes; and how • ove with pure aire dos glaze the cloſe laid ſnow? Thy ſcorne ingrate to Venus, lay aſide; Leſt the rope, when the wheele ſlips, backward ſlide. A Tyrrhene father never begot thee Harſh to thy wooers as Penelope. O, though nor gifts, not prayers move thee yet, Not lovers palen • ſſeſt • in'd with violet, Not husband d • ting on ſome ſinging maid, Yet ſpare them which to thee are p • oſtrate laid, Thou harſher than the tougheſt oaken tree, And bloudier-ſoul'd than Aff • ick Serp • nts bee; This body' of mine for ever can't ſuſtaine Thepavement, and the heaven-diſtilling raine.

ODE XI. TO MERCURIE. Entreating him to mollifie Lyde with his ſweet muſick; as h • hath done many others: Of the puniſhment of the Danaides, and the praiſe of Hype • mneſtra. MERCURIE (for thou being his ſchoole-maſter, Learned Amphson did the ſtones uprea • e, With making melodie,) and thou O Lute, Skill'd with ſeven ſ • rings to ſound (in old times mute, And no whit pleaſing; at each rich-mans board And temples too, now us'd,) ſuch ſtrains afford, Unto which Lyde her deafe cares may raiſe; Who, as it were, in frisking manner playes Like a mare three yeares old in the wide field, And being in the marriage bed • nskill'd, And for a full-veind bed-fellow unfit, Is fearefull even to be touch'd as yet. Thou Tygers, and their woods canſt lead away Along with them, and make ſwift • ivers ſtay: Cerberus porter of the dreadfull hall, Unto thee making muſick low did fall, Though hundred ſnakes did guard his furious head, And loathſome breath and poiſon iſſued Out of his three tongu'd chaps. Ixion too, And Tityus with forc'd lookes did ſmile on you; The urne awhile ſtood drie, while thou didſt eaſe With pleaſing muſick the Danaides. Thoſe maids fact, and known torture, and their run, Emptie of water out at bottome run, Let Lyde heare, and the flow-creeping fate That ey'n in hell on wickedneſſe doth wait. Accurſed things: what could they doe more? they, Accurſt, with ſharpe ſwords-could their husbands ſlay. 'Mongſt many, one worthy a nuptiall fire, To her falſe father nobly play'd the lyar, And to all ages lives a glorious maid; Who, Riſe, riſe, to her youthfull husband ſaid, Leſt a long ſleep, thou fear'ſt not, fall on thee, Thy father in law, and my curs'd ſiſters flee. Who (out alas) have all their husbands ſlaine, Like Lioneſſes having heifers tane; I, gentler ſarre than they, will neither kill, Nor in this caſtle will detaine thee ſtill. Me with ſtrong fetters let my father guard, 'Cauſe I kind heart my wofull husband ſpas'd; Or let him in a ſhip ſend me away To th'utmoſt confines of Numidia; Fly what way feet and winds can carry thee, While night and Venus too propitious be; Goe with good luck, and on my monument An elegie, mentioning me, indent.

ODE XII. TO NEOBULE. Of her violent love of Hebrus. NOt to give love his ſportive exerciſe, Nor drench in pleaſing wine our miſeries; Or to be out of heart, fearing the blowes Of Kindreds tongues, addes to poore virgins woes. Venus wing'd ſon thy ſpindle from thee catches, And Liparaean Hebrus beautie ſnatches (O Neobule) thy tent-workes from thee, And curious Minerva's induſtrie: A better horſe-man than Bellerophon, Neither in fight, or for ſlow pace o're gone, As ſoone as he in Tibers ſtreames hath ſwill'd His oyly ſhoulders; being alſo skill'd, When all the herd is routed up, to wound The Roe-bucks tripping o're the champian ground; And ſwift of foot the wilde Boare to invade Among the thick-grown buſhes cloſely laid.

ODE XIII. The praiſe of the fountaine of Blanduſia. OFountaine of Blanduſia, that doſt ſhine Clearer than glaſſe, deſerving pleaſant wine, Nor without ſtore of flow'rs, thou with a kid Tomorrow morning ſhalt be honoured; Whoſe fore-head, with his firſt hornes fretted out, For luſt and war (in vain tho) hunts about. For this ſame young ling of the wanton traine, Thy cooling ſtreames with his red bloud ſhall ſtaine. Thee the hot dog ſtars dire ti •• e cannot taint: Thou gentle cooling ye • ldſt to oxen faint With • lowing, and to ſtray beaſts: verily Thou ſhalt be made a ſacred ſpring, while I The oakes ſet round thy hollow rocks will ſing, Out of the which thy murmuring waters ſpring.

ODE XIV. His joy for Caeſars victory. YEE people, Caeſar who was lately thought To goe for conqueſt, would with death be bought, In Hercules his way; from coaſt of Spain Is to our gods come conquer our again. Each matron, with one husband being content, Let now proceed the juſt gods to frequent; And ſiſter of our famous Generall, And, with their braided fillets decked, all The mothers of our virgins, and young men Lately returned ſafe to us agen. You youths, and maids that late have husbands tri'd, Forbeare all languages unrectifi'd. This day, being truly feſtivall, ſhall teare My black cares from mee: I will neither feare Commotions, or to die by violent hand, So long as Caeſar governeth the land. Goe boy, fetch oyle and garlands, and that barrell Which beares the true date of the Marſian quarrell, If ſo be any veſſell could be hid From Spartacus having the land o're-rid. And bid ſweet-voic'd Neara to make haſte To bind her ſweet haires in a knot up faſt; If by the ſurly porter any ſtay Be made at all, come preſently away. "Haire turning to be white dos calme the mind "To quarrellings and paltrie brawles inclin'd: For I would ne're have ſuffred this, alas, In heat of youth, when Planous Conſul was.

ODE XV. TO CHLORIS. To for ſake lechery, being old. WIfe of poore Ibyous, now at length fix A period to thy luſt, and whoriſh tricks. Forbeare, being nigh thy now-ripe funerall day, Toſport'mong virgins, and a cloud di • play Or'e ſuch-bright ſtars: that will not become thee, O Chloris, that may well fit Pholoe. Thy daughter better young mens doores may threat, Mad as the Thyades when the drums beat. Nothus love makes her like a fond kid play; Thee, the wooll ſhorne nearefam'd Luceria, • ot muſick fits, nor roſes damask die. ••• ing old • )nor hogſheads to the lees drawn drie.

ODE XVI. TO MAECENAS. Of the power and trouble of riches: the benefit of contentation. A Brazen towre, and ſtrong gates, and ſterne guard Of watchfull curres, ſufficiently had barr'd Danae in it from night-lecher, lockt; If Iupiter and Venus had not mockt The keeper of the virgin ſo inclos'd, (Fearfull Acriſius) for they ſuppos'd, The entrance in would ſate and open bee, When that a god was turn'd into a fee. "Gold uſes through full guards to goe, more fierce "Than thunder-bolts, and through ſtone walls to pierce • The Arg • ve augurs palace downe is ſhrunk, Being for gaine into perdition ſunk. The Macedonian victor clave in two The gates of cities; and he overthrew His rivall Kings with preſents: "preſents ſnare "Thoſe who ſtout Generals of navies are. "Care waites on growing wealch, and thirſt of more. I very worthily did feare therefore (Macenas, glory of our Cheval ie) To raiſe my head up, to be ſeene on high. "The more each man bars himſelfe of, he ſhall "Of the gods get the more: I, ſtript of all,] Unto their cells that nothing covethye, And ſhifting ſeek from rich mens gates to flye; Be'ng of a meane eſtate a braver Lord, Than if I in my barnes were fam'd to hoard What ere the toil'd Appulian dos plow o' • e, Bei'ng amids my mighty riches poore. A ſpring of water pure, and a grove too Of ſome few Rods, and my fields ſervicetrues More bleſſed in poſſeſſing, is unknowne To him that ſhines in fertile Affricks throne. Though nor Calabrian Bees mee honey bring Nor wine for me dos lye a languiſhing In Formian pots, nor my fat-fleeced flock 〈◊〉 Gallick paſtures dos increaſe my ſtock; Yet urgent povertie from me dos live, Nor, crav'd I more, would you deny to give. My deſire being pent in, I better may Enlarge my finall meanes, than if I ſhould lay Croeſu his wealth to the Mygdonian ſtore: 'Much wants to them that many things implore. 'Tis well for that man to whom God has ſent, 'With ſparing hand, what is ſufficient.

ODE XVII. TO AELIUS LAMIAS. His nobilitie; an exhortation to be merry. O Aelius from ancient Lamus fam'd, (Whence the firſt Lamiae, they ſay, were nam'd, And every houſe of your poſteritie, Through all records yet kept in memo ie.) Thou from that head draw'ſt thy originall, Who, being a King of large bounds, firſt of all Is ſaid the walls of For • iae to command, And Lyris flowing on Marica's ſand. ••• mpeſt ſent tomorrow from the Weſt •• ch many boughs ſ • all all the grove inveſt, And all the ſhoare with uſeleſſe flags, unleſſe The weather wiſe old Raven miſſe his gueſſe. While you may, your drie wood together put; Your corps tomorrow you with wine muſt glut, And with a porkling juſt of two months old, With all thy men from labour bid to hold.

ODE XVIII. A prayer and ſacrifice to Faunus. LOver of flying Nymphs, paſſe gently through My bounds, O Faunus, and my faire fields too, And part thence kind to our ſmall nurſeries; Since each yeares end, a young kid to thee dies, And ſtore of wine's not wanting to the cup, Venus compeere; th'old altar fumeth up With many odours: on the graſſie plaine All the beaſts ſport, when unto thee againe Decembers Nones returne: the ſolemne towne In the fields with their idle droves ſit downe. Among the then bold lambes the wolfe dos goe, The wood her country boughs to thee dos ſtrow, The country man dos with his feet delight Three times upon the ſcorned ground to ſmite.

ODE XIX. TO TELEPHUS. Not to ſtudie too much, but to be merry ſometimes. HOw long time Codrus liv'd from Inachus, To die for's country no way timorous, And Aeacus his ſtock you doe us tell, And battels that at ſacred Troy befell. You tell us not at what price we may get A Tun of Chian wine, nor who may heat Our baths with fire; who'll make a feaſt for mee; What houre I may from Peligne colds be free. Boy, quickly fill for the new Moone; fill up For midnight; for Muraena fill a cup, Late Augur made: with glaſſes three or nine, Eaſie to take, let pots be fill'd with wine. The Poet that loves the Muſes odde, will crave Thrice three cups, being in a vein to rave. The naked ſiſter-Graces yoked faſt, Fearing wars, charge no more than three to taſte. Why is the Berecynthian pipes tongue mute? Why hangs the Fife up with the ſilent Lute? I hate theſe ſparing hands: ſtrow roſes there, Let envious Lycus our loud roaring heare, And his young mate no way commodious For Lycus being old: O Telephus Thee comely-looking with thy thick grown haire, Thee repreſenting much the evening faire, 〈◊〉 now ripe for marriage doth require, But me my Glyceraes ſlow love doth fire.

ODE XX. TO PYRRHUS. His danger in drawing Nearchus from his love. SEE you not with what danger you doe preſſe The whelpes of the Gerulian Lioneſſe? O Pyrrhus, thou a fearfull theefe ſhalt flee The dangerous combat, afore long time bee. When ſhe ſhall run through arm'd troopes of young men, Fetching the faire Nearchus back agen; A grand contention, ſooth, whether the prize Unto thy ſelfe or her would greater riſe. In the mean time while you doe ready get Your flying ſhafts, and ſhee her dire teeth whet, He that might arbitrate the war is ſaid The conqueſt under his bare feet t'have laid, And recreate with a mild-fanning ai • e His ſhoulders cover'd with his powder'd haire: As beautifull as Nireus, or the Boy Was ſtolne away from river-ſtored Troy.

ODE XXI. The praiſes of wine. O Sacred tun that w • ſt bred up with mee, When Ma • lius Conſul was, whether in the • , Thou bea • eſt griefes, or jeſts, or quarrelling, Or raging loves, or gentle ſtumbering; By what ſo e're name mark'd thou claſp'ſt about Thy Maſſick wine, worthy to be brought out On a good day; when Corvine ſhall enjoyne, Deſcend and yeeld us forth your gentler wine. Though in Socratick precepts drencht he bee, Yet will he not ſeverely ſcorne at thee. Even ancient Cat • 's gravitie is fam'd, Many a time with wine to have been flam'd, Thou doſt an caſie to turing procure To diſpoſitions uſually obdure, With merry wine; the ſtudies of the wiſe Thou doſt diſcloſe, and profound ſecrecies. In deſp'rate minds thou doſt a hope renew, And giv'ſt the poore man ſtrength and courage too, That, after thee once taſted, neither feares Kings angrie lookes, nor yet the ſouldiers ſpeares. Bacchus, and Venus, if ſhee'll merry bee, And Graces loath to break their unitie, And burning lights ſo long with thee ſhall ſtay, Till Phoebus riſing chaſe the ſtirs away.

ODE XXII. TO DIANA. Hee conſecrates a Pine-tree to her. VIrgin, of hills and foreſts part oneſſe, Who being thrice invoked, doſt addreſſe Thy ſelfe unto young women travelling In child-birth, and from deaths-doore doſt them bring; O thou three-formed god deſſe, let the pine Adjoyning to my manſion, be thine, Which every yeares end gladly I will ſtrow With a Boares bloud that ſide-way aimes his blow.

ODE XXIII. TO PHYDILE. Meane ſacrifices from pure hands, are moſt acceptable to the gods. IF, rurall Phydile, thou raiſe on high At the new-moone thy rear'd hands to the skie; If thou with incenſe doſt thy Lares bow, And with this yeares fruit, and a greedy ſow; Then neither ſhall thy fruitfull vineyard beare The noxious ſouth-wind; nor thy corne ith' ea • e The barren blaſting, not thy younglings ſweet The dangerous ſeaſon of the Autumne meet. For the devoted ſacrifice that's fed 'Mong oakes and elmes on hills with ſnow o're ſpred, Or in the Alban fields dos fatted lye, The high-prieſts axes with his neck ſhall dye. Nothing at all doth it belong to thee, Crowning thy little gods with Roſemary, And with fraile myrtle-boughs, a ſtirre to keepe With a great ſlaughtering of thy young ſheepe. "If a pure hand upon the altar lyes, "You cannot with a ſumptuous ſacrifice "The diſpleas'd houſhold gods more pleaſed make, "Than with your hallow'd corne, and ſalted cake.

ODE XXIV. Againſt immoderate riches. THough richer than th' Arabians wealth unknownes Or of rich India, you with your hewen ſtone The Tyr • hene and the Pontick ocean ſtock; If dire fare on the loftieſt crownes dos knock His Adamantine nailes, thy minde from feare, Thy head from ſnares of death thou canſt not cleare. The wandring Scythians (whoſe carriages Doe beare their travelling tents, as their uſe is) And the ſterne Getae doe far better live, Whoſe unmark'd lands free herbes and come 〈◊〉 give, Nor tillage more than for a yeares food pleaſes, And a ſupply with equall labour eaſes Him that left work laſt: harmleſſe ſtepdams there Their mother-wanting ſons in law for beare: Nor dos the rich-dower'd wife her husband ſway, Nor for a comely trimm'd adult'rer ſtay. "The parents vertues, and their owne chaſte bearing "In a firme league, a ſecond ſuitor fearing, "Is their great dowre; and 'tis a thing abhorr'd "To play foule play, or death is the reward. O, whoſoever would remove from hence Our impious broiles, and home-bred inſolence, If he doe cover regiſtred to bee In monuments a Pater Patriae, Then let him dare his wilde deſires to tame, Famous to after-ages; ſince (O ſhame) "We living vertue enviouſly deſpiſe, "Admire it being once taken from our eyes. What profit dos our mournfull lamentation, If ſin be not ſuppreſt by caſtigation? What benefit can cobweb ſtatutes doe, Not having our obedience thereunto? If nor this part o'th' wo • ld girt with hot fire, Nor continent unto the northward nigher, Nor the ſnow frozen on the ground deters The merchant man? if skilfull mariners Subdue the raging billowes? Povertie, A great diſgrace, commands us both to tri • And ſuffer any thing, and from the way Of hard-to-be-found vertue makes us ſtray. Or let us ſend unto the Capitoll, Whether the clients noiſe and train dos call; Or let us ſend into the neighb'ring floud Our gemmes, and ſtones, and gold for no uſe good, The fomenters of our chiefe miſerie, (If for o •• ſin we truly ſory bee.) The rudiments of our unlawfull luſt Muſt be pull'd out, and minds too render muſt Be fram'd to tougher acts: the noble youth Cannot tell how to back a horſe forſooth, Boing raw, and feare • to hunt: more skill'd to ſport With the Greek top, if you give preceptfor't, Or, if you pleaſe, at diceby law forbid, At which his fathers faith being perjured, His fellow gameſter and his gueſt doth chear, And for his worthleſſe heire doth money get: Thus ill got goods increaſe, yet evermore, I know not what wants to his curtail'd ſtore.

ODE XXV. TO BACCHUS. That being inſpir'd by him bee will ſing the praiſes of Caeſar. WHither, O Bacchus, doſt thou hurry me, Being in ſpired with thy deitie? To what groves, or what caves am I confin'd, Being aſtoniſht in my new wrought mind? Out of what cels ſhall I be heard, forecaſting Egregious Caeſars glory everlaſting Among the ſtars, and court of Jove to ſet? I'le ſing a new rare ſong, never ſung yet, By any other voice: no otherwiſe The Bacchick prieſt from ſleepe amazed lyes, When from the mountaines ſhe doth Hebrus ſee, And Thrace all white with Snow, and Rhodope Climb'd ore by barbarous feete. How I deſire, The rocks, as I am wandring, to admire, And ſilent groves! O King of Naiades, And of the Bacchae that the tall aſh rices, Can pull put with their hands; No triviall thing, Or in a low grown meaſure will I ſing; Nothing obnoxious to mortalitie: A dangerous thing it is, yet ſweet to me, To follow thee god Bacchus, that doſt twine My temples with the green leaves of the vine.

ODE XXVI. TO VENUS. A farewell to love-tricks: hee prayes her to make Chloë love him. PLeaſing to maids I liv'd in former dayes, And fought my battels too, not without praiſe: Now ſhall the wall that is on the left hand Of ſea-bred Venus, all my armes command, And lute weary of wars; here, here diſpoſe Your light, artillery, and barres, and bowes, Which againſt barred doores did uſe to threat; Queene goddeſſe that rich Cyprus mak'ſt thy feat, And Memphis nere vext with Sithonian ſnow, Once ſtrike proud Chloē with a heavy blow.

ODE XXVII. TO GALATAEA. Dehorting her from going to ſea by the example of Europa. LEt the ill omen of the hooting owle, And whelping bitch, and brown wolfe that doth prowle Ore the Lanuvian fields, and fox with young Keepe company the wicked crue among: And let a ſnake their reſolv'd journey ſtay, When like an arrow it doth horſes fray From the hedge ſide. I, wherefore ſhould I feare, Being a provident Aſtronomer? Before the bird preſaging imminent rain, Shall to the ſtanding pooles return again, I will invoke from riſing of the ſun The ſmooth voic'd crow to my petition. O Galatoea, happy maiſt thou bee, Where thou beſt lik'ſt, and mindfull ſtill of mee; And let not the ill-boding pye, nor crow, Wandring about, prohibit thee to goe. But doe you ſee with what a bluſtring blaſt Declining Orion doth ſtand agaſt? I know what Adria's cloudy bay portends, And wherein the cleare weſtarne wind offends, Let the wives and the children of our foes, Feele the eaſt-riſing Goats inſenſat blowes, And the tempeſtuous oceans bellowing, And ſea-ſhores ſhaken with their battering. Europa ſo herivory body threw On a deluſive bull, and pale ſhe grew At th' ocean with monſters cover'd ore, And frauds ith' mids diſcride, though bold before; Late in the meades for flow'rs being wholly ſet, And the contriver of a coronet Vow'd to the nymphes, in an obſcure night ſhee Nothing beſides the ſtars and waves did ſee. Who ſo ſoone as to potent Creet ſhe came, With hundred townes; O father, O that name Diſclaim'd by me thy child O pietie, Being ore come with fury ſhe did crie. Whence, whither am I come? one death's too poore For virgins faults: doe I awake deplore My fouleoffence? or doth vaine phantaſy, (Which through an ivorie portall paſſing by • oth uſher in each dream) thus mock at mee, Being as yet from all offences free? Was it to travell through the vaſt ſeas rather Fitter for me, or the freſh flowers to gather? If any one would now unto me ſhow This odious bull, I being incenſed ſo, I'de with a ſword in pieces ſtrive to pull, And break the hornes of that ſo late lov'd bull. Impudent I my fathers court forſook, Impudent I for hell doe waiting look; O, whatſoever god theſe plaints dos heare, Would I'mong I ons wandring naked were Afore that ugly meagerneſſe ſhall ſtain My comely checkes, or that my moiſture drain From me that will for a ſoft prey be put, Faice as I am, I tygers wiſh to glut. Wicked Europa, why doſt ceiſe to dye? Thy abſent father thus dos on thee crye: Thou with thy girdle haply com'n with thee, May'ſt break thy hanging neck from this aſh tree. Or if the rocks, or ſtones for death ſharp'd fit, Doe pleaſe thee more: goe, goe, thy ſelfe commit To a ſwift •• orme, unleſſe you more mind have To card your miſtris wool, and as a ſlave To be confined to ſome barb'rous dame, Thou being of royall blood: To her then came Falſe-ſuiling Venus (while ſhe did lament) And her ſon alſo, with his bow unbent: Anon, when ſhe ſufficiently had plai'd, For beare thy wrath and thy hot rage, ſhe ſaid; Since that this heifer being by thee hated, Shall yeeld his horns to be dilacerated. To be the wife of unquell'd • upiter, Knowſt thou not how? theſe ſobbings then for be are: Thy ſelfe to bear thy great fare bravely frame; The world divided ſhall retain thy name.

ODE XXVIII. TO LYDE. That ſhe ſhould celebrate Neptunes feaſt with him. DRaw luſtic Lyde, thy hid Caecube wine, And 'gainſt abſtemious wiſdome force combine; What elſe on Neptunes holy-day ſhall I doe? You ſee the noontide haſtens on, yet you, As if the ſwift day ſtay'd, ſpare to draw drie Your barrell from your cellar, ha'ving lien by Since Bibulus conſull was: with altern ſhare We Neptune will extoll, and the green haire Of the ſea-nymphs: thou to thy crooked lute Latona, and ſwift Cynthias darts ſhalt ſuite. In our ſongs burden we will her expreſſe That Cuidus rules, and the bright Cyclades, And Paphos with her yoaked ſwans doth view; The night with fit layes ſhall be praiſed too.

ODE XXIX. TO MAECENAS. He invites him to a meane feaſt, which hee hopes will give him content. That mortals ſhould not trouble themſelves with the times to come. His contempt of fortunes power. MAEcenas ſprung from Tyrrhene kings, for thee There hath beene gentle wine long time with mee In a tun nere before now turn'd about, With roſe-buds, oile too for thy hair's preſſ'd out. Withdraw thy ſelfe from all occaſion, Nor doe thou ſtill moiſt Tibur gaze upon, And fields of Aeſula declivious, And hils of particide Tellegonus. Thy loathſome plentie at the length for beare, And palace to the waving clouds ſon • a • e: Doe thou forbeare to wonder at the fume, And wealth, and tumult of enriched Rome. "Enter change of-times pleaſe rich men well; "And poore mens homely fare in a low cell, "Have made the clouded for head ſmooth to lye, "Without your Arraſes, and purple dye. Now dos Andromeda's tranſlucent ſire Diſplay unto us his long hidden fire; Now Procyon raves, and the mad lions ſtar, While the ſun brings the parching dayes from far. The weary ſhepheard with his fainting drove, Now ſeekes the ſhades, the river, and the grove Of Sylvane rude; and from the wandring winde The ſilent bank is free: Thou yet doſt minde What ſtate may fit the citie, and doſt feare (Being carefull for thy countrie) what the Sere And Bactrians which by Cyrus govern'd are, And mutinizing Tanais doe prepare. "Provident God in a black cloud doth hide "Th'event of future things, and doth deride "If mortall man farther than's fitting goes; "Mind thou what's preſent calmly to compoſe: Other things like the river on are driven, Now ith' mid chanell gently gliding even, To the Etrurian ocean, and anon The eaten rocks, and rent trees driving on, And beaſts, and tents, with roating of the hils, And neighb'ring woods, when the fierce deluge fils The quiet ſtreames: "O're himſelfe bearing ſway, "And merry ſhall he live, that thus can ſay, "I to this day have liv'd; let Jove o're-run "Or with a black cloud, or a bright-raid ſun "All heaven to morrow, yet what once is paſt "He never ſhall make void, nor ere uncaſt, "Or make that thing of no validitie, "Which once the poaſting howre hath carried by. Fortune unto her cruell work intent, And to ſhew her vain glorious ſportings bent, Her flitting honours up and down doth wind, Now to my ſelfe, now to another kind: I praiſe her being conſtant; if ſhe ſhake Her ſwift wings, what ſhe gave me, I forſake; And me in my integritie doe ſave, And honeſt povertie without dowry crave. 'Tis nought to me, when the main-maſt doth crack With northern winds, to my poore pray' • s to pack, And covenant with promiſes, for feare The Cyprian and Tyrian ſhips ſhould beare My wealth unto the avaritious flood: Then with helpe of a two-oard trough of wood, The wind and Pollux twins ſhall beare me hence, Safe thorow the Aegaean inſolence.

ODE XXX. That he is immortalized by his poems, better than by ſtatues and Pyramides. A Monument more durable than braſſe, And higher than the princely ſtructure was Of the Pyramides, I have ſet forth; Which neither eating ſtorme, nor raging north, Or the unnumbred rank of many a yeare And revolutions of times can weare. I ſhall not die all, and ſome part of me Shall from the funerall Goddeſſe power be free, I freſh with after praiſe a • lory, ſhall grow, As with the ſilent Nunne the Pri • ſt ſhall goe Unto the Capitoll: I ſhall be ren •• nd What way the violent Aufid •• doth ſound, And what way Daunus, being of water ſcant, Is ore the countrie rout p • t dominant; That I from feeble riſing being ſtrong, Did firſt of a I bring downe the Grecian ſong To the Italian meaſures: then inherit: A ſtatelineſſe acquired by thy merit: And thou, Melpomene, my temples tye About with Delphick lawrell willingly.

The end of the third Booke of the Odes of Horace.

THE FOVRTH BOOK of the Odes of HORACE.

ODE I. A complaint that Venus hath made him a lover againe: he dotes upon Ligurinus, and deſires Venus to forſake him, and goe to the houſe of Paulus Maximus. O Venus intermitted many a day; Doſt thou againe wage wars? ſpare, ſpare, I pray. I am not now as I before did ſtand Under my lovely Cyaaraes Command. Spare, cruell mother of all-plesſing love, A man bout fifty yeares of age to move, Now hardned to thy ſoft commandments. goe, Where young mens pleaſing prayers doe thee woe, In Paulus Maximus his palace you, Being wing'd with Cygnets of a purple hue, More opportunely may together feaſt, If you delight to fire a fitting breaſt. For he, being both noble and compleat, And for poore ſouls condemn'd, nere ſilent yet, And a youth of a hundred tricks beſide, Shall ſpread the enſignes of thy war full wide. And when he ſhall triumph, being of more power Than the lare gifts or his competitour, Neare to the Albane ſprings hee'll ſetup thee All marble, underue the Cition tree. There with thy noſe thou ſhalt draw much ſweet ſmell, And there thou ſhalt be pleaſed very well With intermixed muſick of the late. And Bere cynthian pipe and with the flute. There youths with tender virgins twice a day, While that they doe thy deitie diſplay, According as is now the Satians guiſe, With their cleane feet thrice on the ground ſhall riſe. Me neither woman now, nor boy doth move, Nor a too credulous hope of mutuall love; Nor doth it pleaſe me to contend with wine, Nor with freſh flowers my temples round to twine. But why, O Ligurinus, why alas Doe my rare ſeene teares ore my cheekes thus paſſe? Wherefore in ſilence, no way fit at all, Amids my words dos my ſmooth tongue thus fall? Now cloſe-cling'd in my nightly dreames I wooe thee, Now through the graſſe of Mars fie field purſue thee So ſwift of foote, and cruell-hearred thee Among the ſtreames that ever moving hee.

ODE II. TO ANTONIUS IULUS. The praiſe of Pindarus, with the extenuation of himſelfe and therefore deſires Iulus himſelfe to ſing of Caeſan victories. WHocuer ſtrives to equall Pindarus, (Julus) by the art of Daedalus, With pinions waxed unto him, doth frame To give the glaſſie ocean a by-name. Like to a Current running downe a hill, Which ſtormes above his noted banks did fill, So rages Pindarus, and rowles along, Unfathomed in his profoundeſt tongue; Fit to be crowned with Apollos bayes, Whether he tumbles forth his new made layes In daring dithyrambs, and ca •… ed bee In numbers from authoritie ſet free. Whether that he of God, or kings doth tell, (The ſeed of Gods) by whom the Centaures fell With a deſerv'd deſtruction, and the fire Of terrible Chimaera did expire: Or whom th' Elean victorie home brings, Being deifi'de, or of the champion ſings, Or of his horſe, and with a gift worth Than hundred enſignes, highly ſets him forth; Or wailes ſome young man from his ſad wife tane, And then his courage and his heart againe, And golden conſtitutions to the skies Raiſes aloft, and ſootie hell envies. Much aire doth the Dircaean ſwan up-raiſe, When, Antonie, it to the cloudes high waies Doth ſoare aloft; I in the qualitie, And the condition of a Matine bee, Gathering pleaſant honey with much toile, About the wood and watrie Tyburs ſoile, Doe warble out, being of ſlender veine. My melodies of a laborious ſtraine. Thou poet, on an in inſtrument more ſhrill Shalt Caeſar praiſe, when ore the ſacred hill, With his deſerved lawrell honoured, He ſhall the ſterne Sicambri forward lead: Than whom the fates and the good deities Have given the earth no more, nor greater prize; Nor ever ſhall give, though our times unfold Themſelves againe into the ancient gold. The joviall feſtivals, and publick ſport Of the whoſe citie too thou ſhalt report, And every court from cauſes cleared out For the obtain'd return of Caeſar ſtout. Then (if • ought worth hearing ſhall begin) A good part of my voyce too ſhall come in, And, O bright Sun, O worthy praiſe, He ſtraine, Happie that Caeſar is come home againe. And all our citie while he marcheth by Not once alone will lō triumph cry, O lō triumph, and will ſacrifice Incenſe unto the gracious deities. Ten oxen, and as many heifers, thee, A tender calfe me of my vow ſhall free, Whoſe dam was late forſocke, which for my vowes In ſpacious meadowes, yet more ſportive growes; The horned fires, upon his forehead ſhewing Of Luna her third change agen renewing, Where he has got a marke, white to be ſpide, Being yellow in all other parts beſide.

ODE II TO MELPOMENE. Whoſover ſhe lookes upon with milde aſpect at his nativitie be becomes a rare Poet. And that he hath gotten credi • by poetrie. WHom thou Melpomene but once ſhalt ſpie Being neare his birth, with a delighted eye; Him neither Iſthmian labour up ſhalt life To be a champion; nor the horſes ſwift In an Achaick charet bring from farre, Being a victor, nor affaires of warre Bring to the Capitoll a captain dreſt With Delian bayes, becauſe he hath ſuppreſt Kings ſwelling threatnings: but the ſtreame that moves In fertile Tybur, and thick leaves of groves, Shall make him famous in Aeolian ditties: • en ſo the youth of Rome the queen of citties, Daignes me 'mong poets pleaſing troopes to knit, And now with envious teeth I leſſe am bit. O thou my muſe, that of the golden lyre Doſt ever temper the harmonious quire! O thou that on mure fiſhes canſt beſtow The ſinging of the ſw • n, if't pleaſe thee ſo! It onely is thy bounteouſneſſe, that I Am markt with fingers of the paſſers by, The Roman lutes muſician that I breath, And pleaſe (if yet I pleaſe) thou doſt bequeath.

ODE IIII. The conqueſts of Druſus Nero: ſome valiant acts of Claudius Nero, with the fortitude and ſucceſſe of the Romans, in the battels againſt Annibal and Aſdrubal. LIke to the bird the thunders harbinger, (Upon whom love, the gods king did confer The raigne ore wandring fowles, experienced That he was true, 'bout beauteous Ganymed) Whoſe youth long ſince, and his fires courage preſt, Unskilfull then of labour, from his neſt; And the ſpring winds (tempeſts being now blowne o're) Taught him (yet trembling) flights unuſ'd before. His lively valian • neſſe did by and by 'Gainſt folds of ſheepe ſend him an enemy; Then love of food and fighting did anon Againſt reſiſting dragone what him on. Or like unto the lion being bear From the milk of his yellow hair'd dams tear, The kid intend on the ſweet fields did ſee, That ſtraightway to •• with his young teeth muſt bee: The Rhoeti and the Vandals ſaw afar Druſus about the Alpes maintaining war, Whoſe cuſtome how derived from all ages; Their hands with Amazonian axes gages, I have deferred to enquire of yet, (Nor is it, to know all things, a thing fit.) But their hands long • icto io • s, and f • ll wide, By our young captains counſel tam'd, have tride What wiſdom, what an ingenuity, Well foſter'd in a happie family, And what Auguſtus fatherly care • o • . Upon the Neroes, being youths, could doe. "Strong things are bred of ſtrong, and the fires forces, "Are in the lovely heifers, are in horſes; "Nor doe ſtrong eagles the weake dove beget, "But learning do • the in bred goodneſſe whet, "And right inſtructions make the ſoul more ſtrong; "When manners faile, ſins doe good natures wrong. What thou, O Rome, doſt to the Neroes owe, Metaurus flood and Aſdruhall caſt low, Are witneſſe of, and that refulgent day To Italie, when clouds were chac't away; Which firſt in glorious victorie did pride, When as the fatall Affrican did ride Our Roman cities ore, as fire through wood, Ore the Weſt wind through the Sicilian flood. After this time, with proſperous ſucceſſe The Roman youth did evermore increaſe, Our temples had their gods anew erected, Late by the Poem's impious bonds dejected. Then faithleſſe An • ibal at length did ſay, We Deeres to rav'ning wolves being made a prey, Purſue them of our ſelves, from whom to flee, And ſcape from, is a glorious victorie. The valiant nation which from fired Troy, Toſt on the T • ſ • an ocean, did convoy Their ſacred orders, and their progeny, And aged fire, to townes of Italy, Like to the oake with hard-edg'd axes pill'd, In Algidum with ſhedy branches fill'd, Through damages, through ſlaughters doth afford Glory and courage from the very ſword. Hydra with h • wn corpes did not more increaſe 'Gainſt grieving to-be-conquerd Hercules, Colchos, nor Thebes yet by Echion builded, A greater wonderment have ever yeelded. In the ſea drowne it, it will riſe more glorious; Wreſtle, 'twill caſt the conqueror victorious With wondrous credit, and will wars maintaine, Fit to be ſung of by their wives againe. Now unto Carthage I no more will poſt My loftie meſſengers: all hope is loſt, And fortune of our family is dead, Ever ſince Aſdiubal was ſlaughtered. The Claudian powers will any thing effect, Which Jove doth with his gracious power protect, And conſultations ſearching very farre Doe carry through the very brunts of warre.

ODE V. A prayer for Auguſtus returne home, as being the health as ſafety of his people. BEſt guardian of the ſtock of Romulus, Sprung from bleſt Gods, th' art now too long fort Return thou, having promis'd quick reſort Unto our Senatours moſt ſacred court. Deare governour, light to thy countrie bring; For when thy look ſmiles on us, like the ſpring, The day more pleaſingly doth then decline, And ſuns upon thy people brighter ſhine. As doth a mother call for her young ſon With vowes, preſages, and petition, Whom the ſouth-wind with envious blaſt doth ſtay Beyond the floods of the Carpathian bay, From his deare home ſtaying more than a years ſpace, Nor from the crooked ſhores doth turne her face: Iuſt ſo our countrie Caeſar back requires, Being all ſtricken with ſincere deſires. For now the oxe treads ſafely ore the fields, Ceres and ſweet good luck our countrie ſhields, The ſailor • ore the quiet ſeas doe flie, True loye feare • to be vext with jealouſie. The chaſte houſe with no lecherie's defam'd Good life and law that ſpotted ſin has tam'd Young folk with children like themſelves are bleſt, Attending torture hath that ſin ſuppreſt. Who will the Parthian, who could Scythian dread, Or who the brood rude Germanie hath bred, While Caeſar is intire to us? who'll way The wars of terrible Iberia? • ach man in his owne hills the day doth ſpend, • nd to the widowed trees his vine doth bend; • hence very jocund to his wine doth hye, • nd at next health makes thee his deitie. • hee with much prayer, thee he ſeekes with wine • owr'd out of bowles and dos thy god head joyne • o his houſe-gods, like Greece that mindfull is Of Caſtor, and the mighty Hercules. • ayſt thou, O deare guide, to Heſpe • ia bring • ong feſtivals; thus we all day doe ſing, Dry in the morning; thus we ſing being drunk, When that the ſun is in the Ocean ſunk.

ODE VI. Aſecular ſong to Apollo and Diana. THou god whom all the Niobean kind The ſcourge of her imperious tongue did find, And luſtfull Tityus, and the Phthian boy, Achilles well-nigh victor of great Troy, Than all the reſt a greater champion, Yet weak to thee, though marine Thetis ſon, Though he victorious with his dreadfull ſpeare, Did the Dardanian palaces downe teare. He like a pine with the ſharpe axe cu • downe, Or like a Cypreſſe with the Weſt-wind blowne; Did fall downe proſtrate all along, and thruſt His very neck beneath the Trojan duſt. Th'ill-well eas'd Trojans hee'd not have deſtroy'd And Priams court with dances over-joy'd, Not being at all within that horſe remaining, A ſacrifice unto Minerva faining: But (O abhorred, O) openly dire Unto his captives, would with Grecian fire Children that nere knew how to ſpeak, conſume, And thoſe yet reſting in the mothers wombe: If the gods father, being by the pray'r Of thee ore-ruled and of Venus faire, Had not permitted to Aencas ſtate Walls reared up with a far better fare. Luce-maſter Phoebus to Thalia ſhrill, That doſt thy hal • es in yellow Xanthus ſwill, Smooth-fac'd Aguieus, O doe thou maintaine The reputation of our Roman ſtraine. Phoebus the ſoule of verſe, Phoebus the art, And name of poet did to me impart. Ye prime of virgins, and from parents rare Ye boyes deriv'd, the Delian godeſſe care, That with her bow ſwift pards and ſtags doth wound, Keepe your Greeke meaſures, and my fingers ſound, Praiſing Latona's ſon in a due rite, The fire-increaſing moone that ſhines by night; In a due ſort, to all fruits proſperous, And ſwift to ſnatch the haſtning months from us. And when that thou art maried, thou ſhalt ſay, I to the gods a pleaſing ſong did pay, When the full age our holy-dayes had brought; In poet Horace meaſures being taught.

ODE VII. Of the brevity of life, and the ſpeedineſſe of death. THE ſnow is paſt, the graſſe returned is Unto the fields, and leaves unto the trees; The earth doth change her courſes; and the tides, Being decreas'd run low on the bank ſide. The Grace and Nymphs, and her two ſiſters dure To uſher in their dances, being bare. The yeere, and howre which hence the ſweet day flings, Warnes thee thou ſhouldſt not hope immortall things. Froſts melt with the ſpring-winds; the ſummer then Th • uſts out the ſpring, and that muſt periſh, when Fruit-bearing Autumn doth her ſtore powre out; And then again ſtiffe Winter comes about. Yet the ſwift moones their he venly waine • can mend: When we, where good Aencas is, deſcend, Where wealthy •• llus, and where Ancus bee, Then aſhes and a very ſhade •• e wee. Who can tell whether that the high gods may A morrow adde to this laſt preſent day? All that on your ow • e dea • e ſoule you beſtow, Beyond your heires all-catching graſpe ſhall goe. When you're once dead, and Minos upon you His rare determinations ſhall ſhew; Torquatus, nor your ſtock, nor eloquence, Nor pietie ſhall ere releaſe you thence. For nor Diana from infernall night The chaſte Hippolytus can ere acquite; Neither has Theſeus power to break in twaine From dears Pirithous his Lethien chaine.

ODE VIII. That he can give his friends nothing but poems, which he eſteemes the beſt gifts. BOwles, and neat braſſe I'de give (O cenſorine) Being bountifull unto all friend, of mine, Tripods, the valiant Greeks reward I'de give, Neither ſhouldſt thou my worſt of gifts receive. If I were furniſht with thoſe rarities Parrhaſius or Scopas did deviſe This skill'd in ſtone; in oily colours he, To forme a god now, now a deitie: But I have not ſuch plen • ie nor indeed, Dos your eſtate or mind ſuch dainties need: You verſes love; we can give verſes yet, And on our preſent can the value ſet. Not marble ſtones grav'd with the publick ſtraine By which the ſoule and life returnes againe To brave words after death; not flights full faſt And threats of Annibal behind him caſt; Not impions Carthage fires more lowd proclaime The praiſe of him who having got a name From conquerd Aftrica, came thence away, Than doe the poems of Calabria. Neither if hiſtories doe diſregard What you doe well, ſhall you receive reward. What thing would Ilia's and Mars ſon be, If that repining taciturnitie Hinder'd the wouth of Romulus? the ſence Of potent Bards, their ſmoothneſſe, eloquence Doth conſecrate unto the glorious woods Aecus taken from the Stygian floods. "A Muſe won't let a man praiſe worthy die, "A muſe in heaven doth him beautifie; So the untoiled Hercules drawes near To the deſired feaſts of Iupiter. The glorious ſtars, the twin-Tyndaridae Snatch batter'd ſhips from forth the orepreſt ſea: Bacchus his temples deck't with the green vine, Doth bring his wiſhes to a good deſigne.

ODE IX. TO LOLLIUS. Of the immortalitie of poetrie, and how many are forgotten for want of the poets pens. He celebrates Lollius deſervings. DOe not beleeve thoſe ſongs can ere be dead, Which I, at lowd-nois'd Aufidus being bred, Did warble out, by arts nere ſhewne before, Upon the viols to be tune ore. Although Maeonian Homer firſt place get, Pindarus Muſes doe not lye hid yet, Simonidaean, nor Alcaicks fierce, No nor Steſichorus his pond'rous verſe. What ere Anacreon did ſport about In former time, age hath not yet raz'd out. The love yet breathes, and ſtill ſurvive the fire • Inſpir'd to the Aeolian virgins lyres. The Spa • tan Helen was not onely fired With an adulterers ſmooth locks, and admired The gold on's robes laid ore and ore again, And his majeſtick carriage, and his train; Nor Teucer firſt, in a Cydonian bow His arrowes ſhot; Troy more than once felt woe; Great Idomene and Sthenelus ne're fought Such combats (onely) worthy to be taught By Muſes; nor did Hector venterous, Nor the moſt violent Deiphobus Heavy ſtrokes firſt of all men undertake For their chaſte wives, and for their childrens ſake Many brave men 'fore Agamemnon liv'd, But all of them are paſs'd away ung • iev'd, And in an everlaſting night unknowne, Becauſe a ſacred poet they have none. "Vertue conceal'd is little different "From ſluggiſhneſſe within the grave up-pent: O Lollius I will not ſuffer thee, Ungrac'd, concealed in my lines to bee; Nor will I let black-tooth'd oblivion Thoſe thy ſo many labours gnaw upon. Thou haſt a mind both provident in ſtate, And both in proſperous times and adverſe ſtraight; Puniſhing griping coz'nage, and abſtaining From money all things to it ſelfe conſtraining, And not being Conſull onely for one yeare, But while he being a judge good and ſincere, Choſe goodneſſe above gaining, and forſook The bribes of guiltie men with a brave look, And through whole troopes of them that ſtopt his way, Conquerour like his enſignes did diſplay. "The man that is of many things poſſeſt, "You cannot truly terme him to be bleſt, "He better doth the name of bleſt enjoy, "Who underſtands how wiſely to employ "The Gods gifts, and hard povertie to beare. "And wickedneſſe far worſe than death doth feare. For his deare friends and for his countrie hee To ſuffer death will never fearfull bee.

ODE X. The poet tells Ligurinus, that when the flower of his youth is paſt, he ſhall grieve to think he had not that underſtanding then which now he hath. O Thou, yet cruell, and imperious grownei By Venus gifts, when the unhoped downe Shall ſteale upon thy pride, and thy haires ſhed Which now fly ore thy ſhoulders, and thy red That's choicer than the damask roſes grace, Being chang'd ſhall turn unto a wrinkled face Thee Ligurinus; thou wilt cry (alas) (When thou ſhalt ſee thee, not thee in thy glaſſe) When I was young why had I not this mind? Or to theſe thoughts why not ſound cheeks aſſign'd?

ODE XI. The celebrating of Maecenas birth-day, Phyllis muſt n • t aime too high. I Have a tun of Albane wine full-gaged, (O Phyllis) that is more than nine yeares aged, And I have parſely in my garden plot To make us garlands: I have alſo got I vie great ſtore, wherewith when thou doſt twine Thy treſſes up, thou wondrous bright doſt ſhine. With ſilver all my houſe doth gliſter round, The Altar with chaſte Vervine being bound With a ſlain elambe to be beſprinkled joyes; Every hand now makes haſte, girles mixt with boy •• Trudge up and downe; the flames doe blaze about From the houſe-tops whirling the thick ſmoke our. But what delights you are invited to, That you may underſtand, theſe Ides by you Muſt be ſolemnized: which every tide Dos April ſea-bred Venus moneth divide. Solemne indeed, and almoſt unto me • o • e ſacred than my owne nativiri • . Becauſe that my Maecenas from this light His yeares ſtill flowing in to him doth write That Telephus, at whom thou doſt ſo aime ( 〈◊〉 young a man not of thy inferiour fraime) A wench both rich and ſportive hath obtain'd, And in a pleaſing fetter keepes him chain'd. Burn'd Phoëton ambitious hopes doth fray, And the wing'd Pegaſus doth well diſplay A heavy preſident, falling upon The earth-born horſe-rider Bellerophon, That things befitting thee thou ſhouldſt affect, And counting it unlawfull to expect Farther than's meete, from thy ſuperiours move; Come then the Ne plus ultra of my love, (For never after this time will I be In love with other woman) learne with me Songs which with thy ſweet voyce thou mayſt expreſſe; Black cares with melodie will ſoone grow leſſe.

ODE XII. He inviteth Virgil (conditionally) to a banquet. THe Springs companions which the ſea doe ſtill, The Thracian winds doe now our ſhip-ſailes fill; Now neither meadowes freeze, nor rivers roare, With winter ſnow being forced to ſwell ore. The hapleſſe bird, and the eternall ſhame Of the Cecropian Court, her neſt doth frame, Mournfully ſounding Itys, 'cauſe that ſhe Kings barb'rous luſts revenged wickedly. The keepers of the rich-fleec'd ſheepe doe raiſe Unto their reeds in the ſoft graſſe their layes, And recreate the God to whom the herd And ſhed chils of Arcade are endeard. Theſe times breed thirſt, but if you well on't think, Virgil, my wine trod out at Cales to drink, Thou crafficker with all our noble youth, Muſt with thy ointments buy my wine forſooth. A little oile-gill drawes my veſſell dry, Which now dos in Sulpitian cellars lye, Rich enough freſh hopes out for us to ſquare, And ſtrong to drench the bitterneſſe of care. Unto theſe pleaſures if your courſe you bend, Come quickly with thy wares: I don't intend Like to ſome rich man in a full ſtor'd houſe To drench thee free from charge with my carouſe. But put delayes of love and gaine away, And mindfull of your funerall, while you may, Mingle ſome ſhort-breath'd folly with your reaſon; 'Tis pleaſing to be fooliſh in due ſeaſon.

ODE XIII. Againſt old Lyce, who would faine ſeeme young. LYCE, the gods have hearken'd to my mone, Lyce, the gods have heard: thou old art growne, And yet thou beautifull wilt ſeeme to bee. And thou doſt ſport and drinke audaciouſly, And after Cupid flow to thee doſt ſeeke With palſied note; he in the be • ureous cheek Of the now freſhly colour'd Chian wench, And throughly skill'd in prick-ſong dos intrench. For haſtie he over the drie okes fleeth And runs from thee, becauſe thy rotten teeth, Becauſe that thoſe thy wrinckles, and the ſnow Upon thy head doe vitiate thee ſo. Nor Tyrian purples now, nor gliſtring ſtones Gan fetch againe thoſe times to thee, which once The winged day hath very firmely cloſed In memorable regiſters diſpoſed. Whither (alas) now is thy beautie gone, Or where thy ſweet face, where thy action? What haſt of her, of her that breathed love, Which didſt my ſelfe from my owne ſelfe remove? A handſome face next after Cynara's, And famous too, and full of moving wayes: But fates gave Cyna'ra few yeeres, keeping thee Equall with ſome old ravens age to bee, That luſtie youths might ſee with mirth enough, Thy taper waſted to a very ſnuffe.

ODE XIV. Auguſtus his glorie, and Victories. WHat care of Senators or Commoners, By ſtatues and recording regiſters Can with full gifts of honour deifie Thy worths, Augustus, to poſteritie? O thou the chiefe of Kings which way ſo e're The Sun the habitable ſhoares doth cleare; The Vandals, Latian rites, unuſed to, Have lately felt what thou in war couldſt doe. For with thy troops brave Druſus did deface More than at one about, an unruly race, The Genoveſe, and Brenni ſwift of foot, And t • wers upon the dreadfull Aſpes tops put. The elder of the Nero's fought of late A dreadfull battell, and with proſp'rous fate The ſavage natur'd Rhaetians out did fling, Plain to be ſeene in's warlick combating, With how great ſlaughters he put out of breath Their lives deſign'd to revell-keeping death. As the north (when the troope of Pleiades Rendeth the clouds) ſwells up the raging ſeas; • o ſwift was he his enemies troopes to tire, And ſpurre his foaming horſe through midſt of fire. So is the bull-form'd Aufidus rowl'd out, Which runs Apulian Daunus Realmes about, When it ſwels up, and on the field new ſowne Threatens to powre a horrid deluge downe. As Claudius did with a deſtructive power The armed troopes of the Barbarians ſcowre; And as he (conquering) van and reare did mow, Them without loſſe o're all the field did ſt • ow: While thou thy aids, advice, and gods didſt lend; For what day th'Alexandrian port did bend Humbly unto thee, and ſet open cleare Her emptie court, from thence the fifteenth yeere, Well-boding fortune did to thee preſent Of the then war moſt proſperous event; And did both praiſe and wiſhed dignitie Procure to thy compleated Emperie. The Spaniard not afore then captivate, The Mede, the Moore, Scythian runnagate Admire thee; O thou helpe aſſiſtant come To Italy, and its chiefe ci • ie, Rome. Nile that conceales the birth-place of his ſpring, And Iſter too, and Tig • is ravening, The monſter-bearing Ocean thee adores, That 'bout the world-divided Britains roares. The Land of France that doth not death regard, And of Iberia parched very hard; Thee the Sicambri that in bloud take pride Doe fawne upon, their armes being laid aſide.

ODE XV. The praiſes of Auguſtus prudent government. PHOEBUS rebuked mee minding to ſuite Battels and conquer'd Cities to my Lute, Leſt I ſhould ſpread unto the Tyrrhene main My little ſailes: Caeſar, thy age againe Did plenteous fruits unto our fields afford, And enſignes to our Iupiter reſtor'd, Pull'd from the Perſians proud poſts, and did bar Romulus temple cloſe, being freed from war, And brought in a right-govern'd policie, And bridles for our wandring libertie, And our iniquities did quite ſubdue, And did our ancient arts again renew; By which agen ſprung up our Roman name, And our Italian forces, and the fame And glory of our Emperie forth ſpred To the Suns riſing from his weſtern bed. While Caeſar is the guardian of our ſtate Not civill rage or pow'r our reſt ſhall bate; Not indignation which ſwords doth whet, And wretched cities doth at diſcord ſet. Thoſe who at deepe Danubius doe drink, Shall not the Julian edicts e're unlink; Not Getes, nor Seres, nor Perſians infidell Nor thoſe who neere the river Tana is dwell. And we on working dayes, and holy tides, Amids blithe Bacchus bowles, with ſons and brides, Firſt to the god in right ſort having pray'd, Of gen'ralls long ſince valorouſly decay'd, (As our fore-fathers manner was to doe) And of Troy alſo, and Anchiſes too, And beauteous Venus progenie will ſing With ſongs to Lydian muſick anſwering, The end of the fourth Booke of the Odes of Horace.

THE EPODES of HORACE.

EPODE I. Horace deſires to goe with Maecenas to warre. THou, friend Maecenas, on Liburnians necks Wilt goe unto the ſhips high decks; Being prepar'd to undertake alone All Caeſars perill as thy owne. And what then ſhall I doe, To whom, ſo long as you Doe ſtill ſurvive, my life is pleaſing, But if contrary, 'tis diſeaſing? Shall we, be'ing bid, embrace ſecuritie, Not ſweet, unleſſe it be with thee? Or undergoe this labour with that ſpirit, As befits brave men to beare it? And the Alps-hills clean through With ſtout minde follow you, And Caucaſus by none poſſeſt, And utmoſt confines of the Weſt? You'll aske how with my pains I can eaſe your, Being feeble and unſure; Being with you I ſhall be in feare much leſſe, That dos the abſent moſt oppreſſe. As the bird ſitting o •• Her unfledg'd young, dos more When they're alone, the ſnakes twines feare, Not that ſhee could help, were ſhee there. Theſe and all enterpriſes, we will prove, Freely, in hope to gain your love. Not that my ploughs, being made faſt unto My many teemes, much work may doe; Or that my cattell may From Lucan paſtures ſtray To the Calabrians ſituation, Before the firie conſt • llation. Nor that my upland Tuſculums hot bower May reach as far as Circestower: Sufficiently has thy benignitie, And too much enriched me; I will not crave that, like Some greedy-griping tike I in the earth may deep inhume, Or like ſome riotous ſpark conſume.

EPODE II. The praſes of the courtrie life. BLeſt is the man, who, free from moleſtation, (As were the mortals antient nation) With his owne oxen tills his country ground, From all uſury unbound; Nor, ſouldier like, with ſhrill alarms is raiſed, Nor at the angry ſea's amazed; And flyes the courts of law, and the proud gates Of Citizens of great eſtates. Then either with the fruitfull ſtems of vines, He the tall poplar trees conjoynes, And, with his knife cutting the waſte boughs out, Graft in better roundabout; Or tendeth on his oxens grazing drove, In a cloſe retired grove, Or his preſt noney tuns in veſſels cleare, Or his ſwelter'd ſheep doth ſheare; Or when the Autumne o're the fields doth ſpread With ripen'd fruit his comely head, How blith is he his grafted trees deveſting, And grapes with purple dye conteſting. Wherewith, Priapus, he may thee reward, And thee, Sire Sylvane, his lands guard. Now under ſome old oke he loves to lye, Upon the long graſſe by and by: Mean while the ſtreames along their high banks ſpring, The birds doe in the foreſt ſing; The Springs with flowing drops a whiſp'ring keep; Which may call in gentle ſleep. But when the thund'ring Inpiters cold tide Dos the ſtormes and ſnow provide, With many dogs he here and there beſets The fierce Boares 'gainſt the toiling nets; Or on his ſmooth hook hangs his ſlender ſnares, Gins for the devouring Stares; Or elſe the fearfull Hares about purſues, Or Crane a ſtranger to our nooſe; (Delightfull ſports! who amids theſe will not Forget the ſad cares love has got?) But if the chaſte wife, for her part, doth cheare Her family and children deare; (Like to the Sabine or the ſun-burn'd bride Of the Apulian ſwift to ride) Dos with old wood a ſacred fire begin 'Gainſt her toil'd husbands comming in; And in clos'd pens ſhutting her faire ewes by, Milks their full-ſwolne udders drie, And from her ſweet pots broaching this yeares wine, Makes him with unbought viands dine; Nor Lucrine ſhel-fiſh'better ſhall me pleaſe, Nor Rhombus, nor the Porpuſes; If that the winter ſwell'd with eaſtern waves, Any to our Ocean laves. No Turkey-cock ſhall downe my belly fleet, Nor lonian Quaile, more ſweet Than th' Olive-betry that new-gather'd is From the richeſt boughs of trees; Or Sorrell-leafe that loves the meadow ground, And Mallowes good for bodies bound; Or elſe a lamb on Terminus feaſts ſlaine, Or a Kid from the Wolfe new tane. Amid theſe cates how I deſire to ſee How the full ewes bent homeward bee; To ſee the wearied oxen, as they hall'd The o're-turn'd plough with necks all gall'd; And, the rich houſes ſwarme, the ſervants ſet About the chimney trimmed near. When as the Uſurer Alphius thus had ſaid, Who ſtraight a farmer would be made, I'th'ldes he gathered all his money in, Next month would let it out agin.

EPODE III. Againſt the eating of Garlick. IF any one with hand accurſt His fathers aged neck hath burſt, Garlick more fell than Hemlock let him eat. O the ſtrong guts of countrie ſwaines! What kind of poiſons this that raignes Within my breſt? haſt Vipers bloud (being h •• Among theſe herbs) from me been hid aſide, Or did • anidia theſe bad cates provide? When as Medea did admire 'Bove all the ſeamen one faire Squire, Iaſon with this ſhee charm'd, when he did tye Yokes on the bulls to them unknowne; With preſents ſtain'd with this alone, Tort'ring her rivall ſhee away did fly On winged Snakes; nor ere did ſuch a ſmoke Downe from the ſtars the parch't Apulia choke. Neither did that preſent crack More ragingly upon the back Of the laborious Mercules; but I pray, O blith Maecenas, if you crave Any ſuch like ſtink to have. At any time, that then your ſweet-heart may Her hands forth-right againſt your kiſſes ſpred And lye on fartheſt ſide of all the bed.

EPODE IV. Againſt upſtert Maenas, late a ſlave. WHat hate 'twixt wolve and lambs dos uſe to be So much i • 'twixt me and thee, Whoſe ſides with Spaniſh whips are ſcarr'd And whoſe legs with ſetters hard: Though you with wealth doe ſtrut vaingloriouſly, The fortune dos not change the qualitie. See you, as through the ſacred ſtreet you throng, With a gown of ſix ells long, How the paſſengers free ſcorne Their faces to and fro doth turne? He flea'd with Bride-well whips, to th'whippers toile. Tills thouſand acres now of Falern ſoile. The Appian way he with his Jennets beats, And upon the chiefeſt ſeats He ſitteth as a doughty Knight, And dos marſhall Otho ſlight. What profit is't that with a heavie load So many ſhips bow'd keeles are in the road Againſt theſe pirats, and theſe ſlaviſh powers, He, he being tribune of theſe bands of ours?

EPODE V. Canidia tortaring a boy, to make a love potion of him. O O, what ever God in heav'n doth guide The earth and all mandkind beſide, What dos thi ••• rore mean, and wherefore bee All your ſtane looks gainſt • nly mee? • hee by thy children, if Lucina e • e, To thy true l •• ou • s call • d, was there; By this my purples fainting die I pray, By Iove that will theſe thing gain-ſay, Why like a ſte • dame doſt thou on me looke, Or like a Whale ſtruck with the hooke? While thus the Boy did ſtand, and did complaine With trembling voice, his • obes being from him tane A body very ſmooth, and ſuch a one As might the Thracians cruell breſts atone; • onidra having think embroydered 〈◊〉 With little ſnakes her locks and uncomb'd head, Commands that fig-trees wild from graves up torne, Commands that cypreſſe ſprigs at funeralls worne, And egs with bloud of a black toad made fouls, And feathers of a nighty flying owle, And herbs Iolcos and • beria (Fertill in poiſons) dos tranſport away, And bones out from a hungry curs chaps ſp ••• d, 〈◊〉 Magick flames ſhould be to aſhes burn'd. 〈◊〉 buſie Sagana the houſe throughout • prinkling Avernall waters round about, •• ke a ſea Porpus, or a briſtling Boare, With her haire ſtaring up, about doth ro • e. Veia with no feare ſtopp' digg'd out the duſt With her hard ſpades, grunting at ev'ry thruſt, That the boy rammed in might pine away At ſight of meat chang'd twice or thrice each day; While he peer'd up with's head, as bodies ſunk Toth' chin in water ſtand; that his pith ſhrunk, And liver dri'd might be a love-drink made, While his eyes fixt on meats forbid, did fade. Both lazie Naples, and each Village neare Thought Ariminian Folia was there, (A man in luſt) who pulleth from the skie, Stars and Moon charm'd with ſpells of Theſſaly. Cruell Ca •• dia here biting away Her long nailes with black t •• th, what did ſhee ſay, Or what did ſhee not ſay? — O you that to my projects bee True helpers, Night, and Hecate, Who the ſilence doſt command While our night-ſpells are in hand, Now come, and on theſe hoſtile bowers, Throw your anger and your powers. While beaſts in their ſad dens doe creepe Wearied with pleaſant ſleepe; Let the Suburan dogs all ſnarle At the old adulterous carle, And (which all the towne may jeere) Beſmear'd with Spikenard every where, "And ſuch a one, as a more true • ſt theſe my hands did never doe. Be •• ma • 's hap't? why dos my direfull charme Than ſell Medeas doe leſſe harme; Wherewith having tortur'd fore Creat Creons daughter, that proud whore, Away ſhee fled thence, when a gowne, A preſent o're with potion ſtrowne, Carried from them all on flame The but newly married dame. Nor plant nor root, yet, hidden in Sharp rocks to me unknown hath bin; Yet he in bed of all his whores, Beſmeared with oblivion ſnores. Ah, ah, he walks freed from harme, By ſome more skilfull witches charme, Thou Varus with no triviall potion Back to me ſhalt make thy motion, (Thou whoſe head for this ſhall pay) Nor ſhall thy heart, though call'd away With Marſian ſpells, from me e're ſlide; I'le a ſtronger draught provide, I'le a pow'rfuller powre out For thee that at my love doſt flout. Firſt heav'n beneath the earth ſhall lye, The earth ſtretcht over both on high, Than you not flame in my deſires, Like brimſtone in the ſootie fires. At this the Boy did not, as heretofore, Theſe damned hags with gentle words implore, But doubtfull how he might his ſilence breake, Did Thyeſtaean imprecations ſpeake; Poiſons, a great helpe and harme, Can't humane courſes counter-charme I'le curſe you all; a dire curſe is Removed with no ſacrifice. But when by you be'ing bid to die, I ſhall give up the ghoſt, then I A mightie terror will you meet, And as a ghoſt your faces greet, With crooked naiſes, (which is the pow'r) Of the gods in feriour) And lying on your panting breſt, With horror drive away your reſt. You, loath ſome Witches, all the towne In each ſtreet ſhall batter downe, Throwing ſtones now here now there, Then wolves and funerall fowles ſhall teare Your unburied limbs in ſunder, Nor from my parents ſhall this wonder Be conceal'd, who after mee Muſt (alas) ſurvivers bee.

EPODE VI. Againſt Caſſius Severus. WHerefore, O Curre, Doſt thou the harmeleſſe ſtranger fright Not daring againſt wolves to ſtirre? Why doe not you this way Your vain threats (if you can) diſplay, And ſeize me that again dare bite. For Maſtiffe-like, Or like unto the brended hound, (The ſhepherds loving help) Ile ſtrike Through ſhe deep ſnow, full neare Unto thee with my prickt up eare, What e're game ſhall before me bound. When thou haſt fill'd The foreſt with thy hideous cry, Thou with one caſt ſcrap art ſtill'd: O be warn'd, be warned then, For I moſt fierce' gainſt wicked men, Advance my ready horns on high. I like unto That ſon in law held in diſdain, By Lycambes moſt untrue Or the fierce foe of Bupalus, If with black tooth one bite me thus, Shall I like a weak boy complain?

EPODE VII. An execration of the civill warre. O Whither now, O whither Run yee (yee curſed men) together; Or why are your long laid-by ſwords made fit, For your right hands? is there yet Too little waſted of our Latian bloud Upon the fields and in the floud? Not that our Romans might Burne the ſtately towers downe quite Of Carthage vile; or th'unfound Britain tread Our ſacred way, being manacled; But that unto the Parthians wiſh this Land Might periſh by her owne right hand. 'Mongſt Wolves and Lions ne're Was ſuch a uſe, unleſſe it were 'Gainſt beaſts of different ſort: dos hood-wink'd furie Or ſtronger force, or ſin allure yee? Return an anſwer: they are ſilent ſtill, And paleneſſe wan their looks doth fill. Their conſciences pierc't through Are all aſtoniſh't: 'tis too true, Sad deſtiny, and ſin of brothers ſlaughter, Our Roman race ſtill followeth after, E're ſince juſt Remus bloud o'th'ground did lye Fatall to its poſteritie.

EPODE VIII. and XII. That obſcenitis which cannot in fit words bee covered, is not fit in any words to bee diſcovered.

EPODE IX. Foretelling Caeſars victory againſt Antonie. O Bleſt Maecenas, when ſhall I (So pleaſe Iove) in thy palace high Taſte the wine kept for feaſts moſt glorious, When Caeſar ſhall returne victorious, Be'ing merry with thee, while the lyre Doth mixt ſongs to the pipes inſpire, Upon this a Dorick tone, Upon them a Barb'rous one? As of late we did when (hee That would Neptunes baſtard bee) The Captain of the Ocean chas't With his fir'd ſhips away did haſte; Threatning fetters to our citie, Which formerly he, taking pitie, Knock't off from ſlaves turn'd renegate; A Roman Squire, now captivate To a female creature, beares Her trenching engin and her ſpears: (Ah poſteritie, you'll ſay This never was) and can obey Eunuchs with their wrinkled face; And the Sun (O vile diſgrace) 'Mongſt enſignes fit for chevalrie Dos look upon a canopie. But the French-menturn'd together Two thouſand foaming horſes hither, Singing Caeſar; and there lye The hoſtile navies ſterns cloſe by In harbour, looking a wrong way: Iö Triumph thou haſt brought Us a generall back from war Exceeding Jugurths victor far, And Affricks conqueror, whoſe glorie Over Carthage rais'd his ſtorie. Our foe by land and ſea o'rethrowne Has put on a homely gowne For his ſcarlet, and now hee With winds againſt him means to ſee Creet for its hundred cities prais'd, Or ſailes againſt the quick-ſands rais'd By the South, or's toſt aloft On the Ocean varying oft. Boy, bring larger glaſſes hither, And Chian wine, or Lesbian either, Or Cecube liquor for us fill, That may the riſing ſtomack ſtill. All care and feare for Caeſars State In ſweet wine I muſt mitigate.

EPODE X. An execration againſt Maevius. THe ſhip's lan • h'd out with fate unproſperous Carrying in't that ſtinking Maevius. R •• ember, South-wind, that thou both ſides batter With horrid waves: let the black Eaſt-wind ſhatter The racklings and the oares all burſt in twain With the toſs'd ſea; let the North ſwell again As high, as when upon the mountains great The trem • ling oakes it doth in peeces beat. Nor let propitious Star that dark night ſhine, When ſtorme preſaging Orion dos decline. Nor calmer ſea let him be born upon Than was the Grecian Captains legion; When Pallas had her indignation turn'd 'Gainſt Ajax impious ſhip from Ilium burn'd. O what a ſweat dos on thy ſea-men ſtand, And on thy ſelfe a paleneſſe ſwarthy-tann'd, And that ſame (not a man beſeeming) crying, And prayers unto love they ſuit denying! When the lonian creek 'ginning to rore. 'Gainſt the moiſt South-wind has your veſſell tore. But if, as a rich prey, being laid flat On the crook'd ſhore, thou ſhalt the crowes make far, A luſtfull hee-goat and a lamb beſides Shall offer'd be to the tempeſtuous tides.

EPODE XI. That he is love-ſick, and cannot write verſes. PEttie, it doth not me delight Verſes, as before, to write, Quite thorow thruſt With deeply wounding luſt. With luſt, the which doth me deſire 'Bove all men elſe to ſet on fire Or for young boyes, Or for ſome female toyes. This the third winter off has tore The foreſts dreſſe, ſince I forbore To pine away For my Inachia. Through towne O what a ſport was I? (For I'm ſham'd at ſuch foolery) And I repent My feaſting-merriments In which my griefe and ſilent tongue, And ſighs from my hearts bottom ſprung, Argued mee Inamorate to bee. And mourning to thee, I did cry, A poore mans candid ingenie Was all but vain To ſtand againſt her gain; When as the uncivill power Of raging wine, had from its bower My ſecret thought With ſtronger liquor wrought But in my breſt if free rage boile, That to the winds it may aſſoile My ſighs ingrate Which my ſore wound can't bate Then my modeſtneſſe caſt by Shall give over preſently To ſtrive ſo long With rivalls over ſtrong. When (vext) I to you had enlarg'd Theſe things, to hie me home being charg • d; Along I went With feet full imporent, To thoſe poſts (ah) unkind to mee, And doores (ah) full of crueltie Where mightily My loins and ſides bruis'd I. Lyciſcus love me now doth preſſe, Boaſting that he in tenderneſſe Dos far ſurpaſſe Any young married laſſe. Whence nor the free-ſpent conſultations, Nor the rigid increpations Of my friends ere Me off againe ſhall teare: But ſome other flame, in ſooth, Of ſome faire maid, or ſome plump youth, Knitting up faire His long grown head of haire.

EPODE XIII. From the preſent ſtorme to take occaſion to be merry. A Horrid ſtorme doth cloud heaven o're, And rain and ſnow doe even unthrone love: Now the ſea, and now the grove With the Thracian north-wind rore. Friends, let's catch oportunitie Even from this very time; and while our knees Are luſtie, and it ſeemly is Let age from cloudy brow be free. Broach the wine made when Torquat was My Conſul; ceaſe to ſpeak ought of the reſt: Iove perhaps with change full bleſt Will theſe things into order paſſe. Now I deſire with Perſian oile To beſpred o're, and with Mercuriall lyre from all pertur bations dire My cogltations to aſſoile. As the brave Centaur ſung unto His Pupill • all; Morrall unconquered, Boy by goddeſte Thet is bred, The Land of Troy doth wait for you. Which ſmall Scamanders coole ſtreams lave, And Simois ſmooth; whence Fates with deſtin'd thrid Thy return home agen forbid Not thy ſea-mother home ſhall have. Then being there doe thou ſuppreſſe Every ill thing with wine and melodie, The ſweet-eaſing company Of deform'd diſtractiveneſſe.

EPODE XIV. An excuſe for not finiſhing his Iambicks. WHy a feeble lazineſſe Dos ſo great oblivion preſſe On my de • p ſenſes, as if I Had ſwallow'd down, with chaps parch't d • ie, Drinks Lethaean ſlet pes in piring, You me kill with oft enquiring, (O Macenas deare) for why That god, that god dos put me by My lambicks (ſome part pend, A ſong long promis'd) e're to end In no other ſort they ſay Anacreon of Te • a For Samian Bathyllus burn'd, Who on his hollow Lute oft mourn'd In careleſſe meaſures his deſire; You poore heart too are all on fire: But if that flame was not ſo bright That burn'd beſieged Troy down quite, Joy in your choice: Phryne made free, Nor with one man content, pines mee.

EPODE XV. A complaint of Neaera's perjurie. IT was at night, and in the cleer-brow'd skie The moone among the leſſer ſtarres did ſhine, When thou, about to blaſt the majeſtie Of the great gods, ſwar'ſt to theſe words of mine, (Clinging more cloſely with thy armes twin'd round, Than the tall oake is with the ivie bound) While the wolfe to ſheep a foe, And Orion to ſeamen ſo, Should irritate the winter ſwelled ſea, And the wind ſhould every way Apollo's uncut locks diſplay, This our love interchangeable ſhould be. Naera that much for my reſolves ſhalt grieve, (For if ther's ought of man in Flaccus yet) Hee'll not endure thou all thy nights ſhouldſt give To a rivall; and being vext a mate hee'il get. Nor ſhall his conſtancy ere yeeld agin, To thy falſe face, if fixt griefe once ſtep in. And thou bleſt man who ere thou art, That ſtrutteſt proudly army ſma • t Though thou be rich in cattell and much ground, And Pactolus to thee flow And thou Pythagoras ſecrets know (Thrice born) and Nireus doſt for face confound, Ah thou wilt weepe to ſee her love to ſteere Another courſe, but I'mean time will jeere.

EPODE XVI. A deploring of the eivill wars, and an exhortation to forſake their countrie, as untuckie. A Second age with civill wars is ſpent, And Rome it ſelfe with her own powers is rent; Which bord'ring Ma • ſians could not waſte away, Nor Tuſcan band or threatfull Proſena, No • Capua's emulo is ſtrength, nor Spartacus So violent, nor French perfidious To new affaires, nor ſavage Germany Had ever waſted with her painted fry, Nor Anni' bal by his parents curſed ſtill, We wicked brood of curſed ſeed will ſpill; And now our land again ſhall be ore-ſpread With ſavage beaſts; the barbrous victor tread Upon our aſhes, and the horſeman greet Our citie with his horſes ſounding feet; And proudly ſcatter (O abhorr'd to ſee) Romulus bones from wind and ſun ſet free. Perhaps you all, or beſt part pitch upon What muſt, to ſcape theſe wicked wars, be done: Let no advice than this be priz'd more high; As did the Phocians curſed citie fly, Fields, houſhold gods, and temple, too forſooke, By boares and cruell wolves to be next tooke. Let's goe where ere our feet can carrie us, Where ere the ſouth or north wind boiſterous Shall call us through the ſeas: what? dos this like? Or has ſome elſe a better ſtroke to ſtrike? Wherefore doe we delay our ſhips to ſt • are With proſp'rous fate? but lets to theſe things ſweare: When rocks, rais'd from their deep ſeas up, ſhall flow, Then back again it be no ſin to goe, Nor be a ſhame our ſailes towards home to ſet, When Padus ſhall the Matine hill tops wet. Or towring Apennine ſink in the main, And ſtrange love with new luſt ſhall monſters chain, That Tygers ſhall to mate with Bucks delight, And Pigeon ſhall adulterate with the Kite Not credulous herds from yellow lions ſhall move, And the ſmooth goat the briniſh floods ſhall love: Let's ſwear to theſe things, and what ever may, Take all our ſweet hopes of return away. Let our curs'd citie all at once goe our, Or ſome part better than th' untutor'd rout. Let the hen-hearted and deſpairing wretch Himſelfe in theſe ill fated chambers ſtretch. The girdling ſea calls us; lets ſeek out ſtrait Thoſe fields, bleſt fields and Ilands fortunate, Where th'earth untill each yeare her fruit doth give, And vineyard never prund doth everlive; And the nere-fuling olives branch doth ſprout, And the ripe fig her native tree ſets out. From hollow oaks drops honey; from high hills The nimble ſpring with ratling feet diſtills There goats uncalld unto the milk pailes come, And the faire flock their full ſwoln bag, brings 〈◊〉 ; Nor evening beare about their fields doth yell, Nor dos the fertile land with vipers ſwell. And we bleſt men ſhall more admire, as how The wet ſouth don't the meads with large ſtormes mow; Nor the far ſeed is parcht in furrowes drie; The heav'ns king both ſo well doth qualifie. No ſhip with Argonaures doth hither ſteere, Nor impudent Medea ſets foot heere, No Tyrian ſailors hither their ſailes bent, Not yet Vlyſſes long-toil'd regiment. Jove for a pious ſtock theſe ſhoares ſelected, When he the golden age with braſſe infected, With braſſe, then iron hardend the age; whoſe flight To thoſe bleſt ſoules by my preſage ſtands right.

TO CANIDIA. An ironicall recantation. NOw to thy ſtrong art I my hands aſſigne, Humbly, and crave byth' realmes of Proſerpine, And by the unmov'd power of Hecate, And by the books of ſpels which able be To call the looſned ſtars down from their ſphaere, Canidia, yet thy damned charms forbeare, And wind, O wind thy nimble ſpindle back: Telephus ſo did Nereus grand child ſlack. Gainſt whom proud he his Myſian troups had bent, And againſt whom he had his ſharpe darts ſent. The Trojan mat ons murdrous • ector ointed, To ravenous birds and dogs before appointed, When that the King, deſcended from the wall, Down (ah) at proud Achilles feet did fall; Vlyſſes gally-ſlaves, when C • ree pleas'd, Their bi ••• led members of their hard skin eas'd. Then was their mind and voyce reſtor'd again, And glory in their countenance moſt plain. Thou much by ſailors and by factors lov'd, Enough and too much penance I have prov'd; My youth is vaniſht, and my comely red Has left my bones with ſwarthy skin o • eſpred. My hiar's turnd white all over with thyoile, No intermiſſion quitteth me from toile. The night on day, and day on night doth ſeize, Yet nothing can my wind-ſwoln intrailes eaſe, Therefore poore wretch I am captlv'd, that I May credit what I did before denie, That Sabine charms could doe a body wrong, Or wit be crazed with a Marſyan ſong. What would you more than this?—O earth and ſeas! I flame, as neither poiſon'd Hercules By Neſſus foule blood, nor Sicilian fire Raging in burning Aetna can flame higher: Thou even a ſhop of Colchick witchery Do • t flame ſo long, till I, being aſhes day, To the rude winds ſhall ſhatterd be: what end? Or what amercement dos upon me tend? Speak, I will truly beare my impoſed task, Prepar'd to expiate, whether you ask A hundred buls; or on my falſe lute you Will flatter'd bee; you modeſt dame and true, Being a golden conſtellation, Even the ſtars themſelves ſhalt tread upon. Caſtor, and mighty Caſtors brother ſham'd At the report of Helena defam'd, Or-come with ſupplication, did againe Reſtore the eye-ſight from the poet tane. And you (for you can doe't) free me from madneſſe, O thou nere tainted through thy fathers badneſſe, Nor old hag skill'd from poore mens ſepulchers The duſt ſcarce nine dayes cover'd to diſperſe; Thou haſt a loving breaſt, and righteous hands, And yet thy wombe for childbirth ſitting ſtands. And the nurſe waſhes up your blood-ſtaind clout When thou a luſtic child-bed wife leap'ſt out.

CANIDIA'S anſwer. WHy powre you praiers into my lockt-up cares? The winter-ſwelled Neptune never teares The rocks more deafe to ſea men ſhip wracked On the rough ſea: ſhould you untortured My (by you publiſht) baudy rites deſpiſe, The nor-to-be-wrong'd Cupids ſacrifice? And cenſor of my ſpels on the watch-hill, (Unpuniſht) with my name the town ſhouldſt fill? Wher • in will it availe you rich to make The Pelign hags, or quicker poiſon take, If flower deſtinies on you attend Than your deſires? you wretch muſt to this end Spin out a loathed life, that ſo you may For new found torments evermore find play. Tantalus wanting his ſtill furniſht feaſt, (Pelops his faithleſſe father) begs for reſt; Prometheus craves it, to his eagle tide; Siſyphus begs to make his ſtone abide On the hill top; but loves decrees denie: So you may wiſh to leap from turrets high, And other while with a Bavarian blade To ri ••• entrailes up; and you may braid Halters for your own neck, and all in vaine, Being diſtracted at your tedious paine. Then I'le in ſtate ride on your hatefull back, Beneath my inſolence the earth-ſhall crack: Shall I that can make waxen pictures goe, (As you your ſelfe ore-curious foole doe know) Can with my cha •• s the moone from heaven conſtrain, Can raiſe the burnt dead bodies up againe, And make a drink of love, th'event deplore Of all my art that hath on thee no power?

A ſecular Hymne for the protection of the Roman Empire. PHOEBUS, and Dian preſident Offorreſts, heavens bright ornament, Still worthy praiſe, and ſtill ador'd, Afford Thoſe things for which we pray Upon our holy day. On which the Sibylls books ordain'd, That virgins choice, and youths unſtain'd Should to thoſe deities rehearſe A verſe, With whom our ſeaven hills Have purchaſed good wills. Bright Sun that in thy charet pure Doſt cleare the day, and doſt obſcure, Seem'ſt various, yet ſtill in one wiſe Doſt riſe, O mayſt thou nothing ſee Greater than Rome to bee. O Ilithuia truly milde To bring forth the ripened child, Protect our matrons whether thou Allow To be Lucina fam'd, Or be amid wife nam'd, Goddeſſe doe thou our ſtock increaſe, And give our ſenates lawes ſucceſſe, 'Bout marrying wives; and that, law then For men, That married they may breed A new increaſing ſeed. That the world informed cleere Every hundred and tenth yeere, May make ſolemne hymnes and playes Three dayes Bright-ſhining, and by night As long, with all delight. You deſtinies too propagate To our paſt fortunes a bleſt fate, Let the firm determinings Of things Keep ſafe what once 'tis ſea'd Y'have firmly prophes'ed Let the earth full-ſtor'd with corn And cattell, Ceres then adorne With a coroner of wheat, And let Sweet rain and breath of Jove Our nurſeries improve. Apoll • milde and pacifi'd (Thy artill'rie laid aſide) To our ſuppliant youth give ear: And heare Thou horn'd Queen of the skie, (Luna) our femall fry. If Rome be a charge of yours, And the Troy-deſcended powers Have kept the Roman ſhoares, ſome few By you Being bid with courſe ſecure Their gods and land t'abjure; For whom thorow Troy all-fired Chaſte Ae • eas, not expired With's countrie, without loſſe did lay Free way; Willing to give them more Than all they left before. Yee gods beſtow conditions ſage On our train'd youth; to ſweet old age Give reſt: both wealth and iſſue too Give you, And all Majeſtick grace To Romulus his race. And he that offers' you white kine, (The poſteritie divine. Of Venus and Anchiſes) let Him get Pow'r ore his warring foe Mild to him when brought low. The Mede now fears our potent band, And Roman arms by ſea and land, The Scythians now our anſwers wait, Of late That were ſo full of pride, And th' Indians beſide. Now Faith and Peace, and Honour too, And Chaſtitie fam'd long agoe, And long-ſcorn'd Vertue dares agin Come in, And bleſſed Plentie here With full horn doth appeare. And Phoebus future things divining, Adorned with his bow bright-ſhining, And belov'd of the nine Muſes, Who Iooſes With health-reſtoring arts The bodies toiled parts; If he our Palatine altars ſee, Romes weale, and glorious Italie, Being propitious, let him ſtill Fulfill Them to a longer date, And fate more fortunate. And let Diana who doth hold Th' Aventine hill, and Algid cold, Our fifteene rulers prayers attend, And bend Her cares of milde condition Unto our youths petition. And I a skilfull Choriſter, Phoebus and Phoebes praiſe to reare, Bring home good hope, and nere to move, That Jove And all the Deities Aſſent unto our cries.

FINIS.