Odes Horace Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882. 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.No, though more suasive than the bard of Thrace You swept the lyre that trees were fain to hear,Ne'er should the blood revisit his pale faceWhom once with wand severe