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

  • They call;—if aught in shady dell
  • We twain have warbled, to remain
  • Long months or years, now breathe, my shell,
  • A Roman strain,
  • Thou, strung by Lesbos' minstrel hand,
  • The bard, who 'mid the clash of steel,
  • Or haply mooring to the strand
  • His batter'd keel,
  • Of Bacchus and the Muses sung,
  • And Cupid, still at Venus' side,
  • And Lycus, beautiful and young,
  • Dark-hair'd, dark-eyed.
  • O sweetest lyre, to Phoebus dear,
  • Delight of Jove's high festival,
  • Blest balm in trouble, hail and hear
  • Whene'er I call!