Odes

Horace

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

The well-dried keels are wheel'd again to sea:

The ploughman cares not for his fire, nor cattle for their stall,

And frost no more is whitening all the lea.

Now Cytherea leads the dance, the bright moon overhead;

The Graces and the Nymphs, together knit,

With rhythmic feet the meadow beat, while Vulcan, fiery red,

Heats the Cyclopian forge in Aetna's pit.

'Tis now the time to wreathe the brow with branch of myrtle green,