Odes

Horace

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

What cloud o'er Tiridates lowers,

I care not, I. O, nymph divine

Of virgin springs, with sunniest flowers

A chaplet for my Lamia twine,

Pimplea sweet! my praise were vain

Without thee. String this maiden lyre,

Attune for him the Lesbian strain,

O goddess, with thy sister quire!

What, fight with cups that should give joy?

'Tis barbarous; leave such savage ways

To Thracians. Bacchus, shamefaced boy,

Is blushing at your bloody frays.