Odes

Horace

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

  • The cattle sport, the wild beasts hide
  • Their cubs, the Capitol may stand
  • All bright, and Rome in warlike pride
  • O'er Media stretch a conqueror's hand.
  • Aye, let her scatter far and wide
  • Her terror, where tbe land-lock'd waves
  • Europe from Afric's shore divide,
  • Where swelling Nile the corn-field laves—
  • Of strength more potent to disdain
  • Hid gold, best buried in the mine,
  • Than gather it with hand profane,
  • That for man's greed would rob a shrine.
  • Whate'er the bound to earth ordain'd,
  • There let her reach the arm of power,
  • Travelling, where raves the fire unrein'd,
  • And where the storm-cloud and the shower.
  • Yet, warlike Roman, know thy doom,
  • Nor, drunken with a conqueror's joy,
  • Or blind with duteous zeal, presume
  • To build again ancestral Troy.