Odes Horace Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882. Why blush to let our tears unmeasured fallFor one so dear? Begin the mournful stave,Melpomene, to whom the sire of allSweet voice with music gave.And sleeps he then the heavy sleep of death,Quintilius? Piety, twin sister dearOf Justice! naked Truth! unsullied Faith!When will ye find his peer?By many a good man wept, Quintilius dies;By none than you, my Virgil, trulier wept:Devout in vain, you chide the faithless skies,Asking your loan ill-kept.