Odes Horace Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882. Your reckless heir will level low.Whether from Argos' founder bornIn wealth you lived beneath the sun,Or nursed in beggary and scorn,You fall to Death, who pities none.One way all travel; the dark urnShakes each man's lot, that soon or lateWill force him, hopeless of return,On board the exile-ship of Fate.Why, Xanthias, blush to own you loveYour slave? Briseis, long ago,A captive, could Achilles move