Odes Horace Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882. If, Phidyle, your hands you liftTo heaven, as each new moon is born,Soothing your Lares with the giftOf slaughter'd swine, and spice, and corn,Ne'er shall Scirocco's bane assailYour vines, nor mildew blast your wheat.Ne'er shall your tender younglings failIn autumn, when the fruits are sweet.