Odes

Horace

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

Who now is basking in your golden smile,

And dreams of you still fancy-free, still kind,

Poor fool, nor knows the guile

Of the deceitful wind!

Woe to the eyes you dazzle without cloud

Untried! For me, they show in yonder fane

My dripping garments, vow'd

To Him who curbs the main.

Not I, but Varius:—he, of Homer's brood

A tuneful swan, shall bear you on his wing,

Your tale of trophies, won by field or flood,

Mighty alike to sing.