Odes

Horace

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

  • Frosts yield to zephyrs; Summer drives out Spring,
  • To vanish, when
  • Rich Autumn sheds his fruits; round wheels the ring,—
  • Winter again!
  • Yet the swift moons repair Heaven's detriment:
  • We, soon as thrust
  • Where good Aeneas, Tullus, Ancus went,
  • What are we? dust.
  • Can Hope assure you one more day to live
  • From powers above?
  • You rescue from your heir whate'er you give
  • The self you love.
  • When life is o'er, and Minos has rehearsed
  • The grand last doom,
  • Not birth, nor eloquence, nor worth, shall burst
  • Torquatus' tomb.
  • Not Dian's self can chaste Hippolytus
  • To life recall,
  • Nor Theseus free his loved Pirithous
  • From Lethe's thrall.