Odes

Horace

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

Every melting eye will rest

On Damalis' lovely face; but none may part

Damalis from our new-found guest;

She clings, and clings, like ivy, round his heart.

Now drink we deep, now featly tread

A measure; now before each shrine

With Salian feasts the table spread;

The time invites us, comrades mine.

'Twas shame to broach, before today,

The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame

Threaten'd our power in dust to lay

And wrap the Capitol in flame,