Odes

Horace

Horace, creator; Conington, John, 1825-1869, editor

  • Is hatch'd on earth, he dealt in all—
  • Who planted in my rural stead
  • Thee, fatal wood, thee, sure to fall
  • Upon thy blameless master's head.
  • The dangers of the hour! no thought
  • We give them; Punic seaman's fear
  • Is all of Bosporus, nor aught
  • Reeks he of pitfalls otherwhere;
  • The soldier fears the mask'd retreat
  • Of Parthia; Parthia dreads the thrall
  • Of Rome; but Death with noiseless feet
  • Has stolen and will steal on all.
  • How near dark Pluto's court I stood,
  • And Aeacus' judicial throne,
  • The blest seclusion of the good,
  • And Sappho, with sweet lyric moan
  • Bewailing her ungentle sex,
  • And thee, Alcaeus, louder far
  • Chanting thy tale of woful wrecks,
  • Of woful exile, woful war!