Odes

Horace

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

  • He hesitates? no other hire
  • Shall tempt my sober brains. Whate'er
  • The goddess tames you, no base fire
  • She kindles; 'tis some gentle fair
  • Allures you still. Come, tell me truth,
  • And trust my honour—That the name?
  • That wild Charybdis yours? Poor youth!
  • O, you deserved a better flame!
  • What wizard, what Thessalian spell,
  • What god can save you, hamper'd thus?
  • To cope with this Chimaera fell
  • Would task another Pegasus.
  • The sea, the earth, the innumerable sand,
  • Archytas, thou couldst measure; now, alas!
  • A little dust on Matine shore has spann'd
  • That soaring spirit; vain it was to pass