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

  • Say, would you change for all the wealth possest
  • By rich Achaemenes or Phrygia's heir,
  • Or the full stores of Araby the blest,
  • One lock of her dear hair,
  • While to your burning lips she bends her neck,
  • Or with kind cruelty denies the due
  • She means you not to beg for, but to take,
  • Or snatches it from you?
  • Black day he chose for planting thee,
  • Accurst he rear'd thee from the ground,
  • The bane of children yet to be,
  • The scandal of the village round.
  • His father's throat the monster press'd
  • Beside, and on his hearthstone spilt,
  • I ween, the blood of midnight guest;
  • Black Colchian drugs, whate'er of guilt
  • Is hatch'd on earth, he dealt in all—
  • Who planted in my rural stead
  • Thee, fatal wood, thee, sure to fall
  • Upon thy blameless master's head.