Odes

Horace

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

Not a lowly strain is mine,

No mere man's utterance. O, 'tis venture sweet

Thee to follow, God of wine,

Making the vine-branch round thy temples meet!

For ladies' love I late was fit,

And good success my warfare blest,

But now my arms, my lyre I quit,

And hang them up to rust or rest.

Here, where arising from the sea

Stands Venus, lay the load at last,

Links, crowbars, and artillery,

Threatening all doors that dared be fast.