Odes Horace Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882. For me stern Sparta forges no such spell,No, nor Larissa's plain of richest mould,As bright Albunea echoing from her cell.O headlong Anio! O Tiburnian groves,And orchards saturate with shifting streams!Look how the clear fresh south from heaven removesThe tempest, nor with rain perpetual teems!You too be wise, my Plancus: life's worst cloud