Odes

Horace

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

Yet, warlike Roman, know thy doom,

Nor, drunken with a conqueror's joy,

Or blind with duteous zeal, presume

To build again ancestral Troy.

Should Troy revive to hateful life,

Her star again should set in gore,

While I, Jove's sister and his wife,

To victory led my host once more.

Though Phoebus thrice in brazen mail

Should case her towers, they thrice should fall,

Storm'd by my Greeks: thrice wives should wail

Husband and son, themselves in thrall.”—

Such thunders from the lyre of love!

Back, wayward Muse! refrain, refrain

To tell the talk of gods above,

And dwarf high themes in puny strain.

Come down, Calliope, from above:

Breathe on the pipe a strain of fire:

Or if a graver note thou love,

With Phoebus' cittern and his lyre.