Horace, creator; Conington, John, 1825-1869, editor

  • What blessing shall the bard entreat
  • The god he hallows, as he pours
  • The winecup? Not the mounds of wheat
  • That load Sardinian threshing floors;
  • Not Indian gold or ivory—no,
  • Nor flocks that o'er Calabria stray,
  • Nor fields that Liris, still and slow,
  • Is eating, unperceived, away.
  • Let those whose fate allows them train
  • Calenum's vine; let trader bold
  • From golden cups rich liquor drain
  • For wares of Syria bought and sold,
  • Heaven's favourite, sooth, for thrice a year
  • He comes and goes across the brine
  • Undamaged. I in plenty here
  • On endives, mallows, succory dine.
  • O grant me, Phoebus, calm content,
  • Strength unimpaird, a mind entire,
  • Old age without dishonour spent,
  • Nor unbefriended by the lyre!