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

  • Our Hercules, they told us, Rome,
  • Had sought the laurel Death bestows:
  • Now Glory brings him conqueror home
  • From Spaniard foes.
  • Proud of her spouse, the imperial fair
  • Must thank the gods that shield from death;
  • His sister too:—let matrons wear
  • The suppliant wreath
  • For daughters and for sons restored:
  • Ye youths and damsels newly wed,
  • Let decent awe restrain each word
  • Best left unsaid.
  • This day, true holyday to me,
  • Shall banish care: I will not fear
  • Rude broils or bloody death to see,
  • While Caesar's here.
  • Quick, boy, the chaplets and the nard,
  • And wine, that knew the Marsian war,
  • If roving Spartacus have spared
  • A single jar.