Odes

Horace

Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882.

  • No need of Moorish archer's craft
  • To guard the pure and stainless liver;
  • He wants not, Fuscus, poison'd shaft
  • To store his quiver,
  • Whether he traverse Libyan shoals,
  • Or Caucasus, forlorn and horrent,
  • Or lands where far Hydaspes rolls
  • His fabled torrent.
  • A wolf, while roaming trouble-free
  • In Sabine wood, as fancy led me,
  • Unarm'd I sang my Lalage,
  • Beheld, and fled me.
  • Dire monster! in her broad oak woods
  • Fierce Daunia fosters none such other,
  • Nor Juba's land, of lion broods
  • The thirsty mother.
  • Place me where on the ice-bound plain
  • No tree is cheer'd by summer breezes,
  • Where Jove descends in sleety rain
  • Or sullen freezes;