Odes

Horace

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

  • 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.
  • Pollux and roving Hercules
  • Thus won their way to Heaven's proud steep,
  • 'Mid whom Augustus, couch'd at ease,
  • Dyes his red lips with nectar deep.
  • For this, great Bacchus, tigers drew
  • Thy glorious car, untaught to slave
  • In harness: thus Quirinus flew
  • On Mars' wing'd steeds from Acheron's wave,
  • When Juno spoke with Heaven's assent:
  • “O Ilium, Ilium, wretched town!
  • The judge accurst, incontinent,
  • And stranger dame have dragg'd thee down.