Odes

Horace

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

Now, returning, he bestows

On each dear comrade all the love he can;

But to Lamia most he owes,

By whose sweet side he grew from boy to man.

Note we in our calendar

This festal day with whitest mark from Crete:

Let it flow, the old wine-jar,

And ply to Salian time your restless feet.

Damalis tosses off her wine,

But Bassus sure must prove her match tonight.

Give us roses all to twine,

And parsley green, and lilies deathly white.