Odes

Horace

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

  • Your Gyges? He, detain'd by stormy stress
  • At Oricum, about the Goat-star's rise,
  • Cold, wakeful, comfortless,
  • The long night weeping lies.
  • Meantime his lovesick hostess' messenger
  • Talks of the flames that waste poor Chloe's heart
  • (Flames lit for you, not her!)
  • With a besieger's art;
  • Shows how a treacherous woman's lying breath
  • Once on a time on trustful Proetus won
  • To doom to early death
  • Too chaste Bellerophon;
  • Warns him of Peleus' peril, all but slain
  • For virtuous scorn of fair Hippolyta,
  • And tells again each tale
  • That e'er led heart astray.
  • In vain; for deafer than Icarian seas
  • He hears, untainted yet. But, lady fair,
  • What if Enipeus please
  • Your listless eye? beware!