Odes

Horace

Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882.

  • Liber and Venus, wills she so,
  • And sister Graces, ne'er unknit,
  • And living lamps shall see you flow
  • Till stars before the sunrise flit.
  • Guardian of hill and woodland, Maid,
  • Who to young wives in childbirth's hour
  • Thrice call'd, vouchsafest sovereign aid,
  • O three-form'd power!
  • This pine that shades my cot be thine;
  • Here will I slay, as years come round,
  • A youngling boar, whose tusks design
  • The side-long wound.
  • If, Phidyle, your hands you lift
  • To heaven, as each new moon is born,
  • Soothing your Lares with the gift
  • Of slaughter'd swine, and spice, and corn,
  • Ne'er shall Scirocco's bane assail
  • Your vines, nor mildew blast your wheat.
  • Ne'er shall your tender younglings fail
  • In autumn, when the fruits are sweet.