Odes

Horace

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

  • And Medus' flood, 'mid conquer'd tribes
  • Rolling a less presumptuous tide,
  • And Scythians taught, as Rome prescribes,
  • Henceforth o'er narrower steppes to ride.
  • Licinius, trust a seaman's lore:
  • Steer not too boldly to the deep,
  • Nor, fearing storms, by treacherous shore
  • Too closely creep.
  • Who makes the golden mean his guide,
  • Shuns miser's cabin, foul and dark,
  • Shuns gilded roofs, where pomp and pride
  • Are envy's mark.
  • With fiercer blasts the pine's dim height
  • Is rock'd; proud towers with heavier fall
  • Crash to the ground; and thunders smite
  • The mountains tall.
  • In sadness hope, in gladness fear
  • 'Gainst coming change will fortify
  • Your breast. The storms that Jupiter
  • Sweeps o'er the sky