Odes

Horace

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

  • True Virtue opens heaven to worth:
  • She makes the way she does not find:
  • The vulgar crowd, the humid earth,
  • Her soaring pinion leaves behind.
  • Seal'd lips have blessings sure to come:
  • Who drags Eleusis' rite today,
  • That man shall never share my home,
  • Or join my voyage: roofs give way
  • And boats are wreck'd: true men and thieves
  • Neglected Justice oft confounds:
  • Though Vengeance halt, she seldom leaves
  • The wretch whose flying steps she hounds.
  • The man of firm and righteous will,
  • No rabble, clamorous for the wrong,
  • No tyrant's brow, whose frown may kill,
  • Can shake the strength that makes him strong:
  • Not winds, that chafe the sea they sway,
  • Nor Jove's right hand, with lightning red:
  • Should Nature's pillar'd frame give way,
  • That wreck would strike one fearless head.