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

  • Sailors override the wave,
  • While guilty poverty, more fear'd than vice.
  • Bids us crime and suffering brave,
  • And shuns the ascent of virtue's precipice?
  • Let the Capitolian fane,
  • The favour'd goal of yon vociferous crowd,
  • Aye, or let the nearest main
  • Receive our gold, our jewels rich and proud:
  • Slay we thus the cause of crime,
  • If yet we would repent and choose the good:
  • Ours the task to take in time
  • This baleful lust, and crush it in the bud.
  • Ours to mould our weakling sons
  • To nobler sentiment and manlier deed:
  • Now the noble's first-born shuns
  • The perilous chase, nor learns to sit his steed:
  • Set him to the unlawful dice,
  • Or Grecian hoop, how skilfully he plays!
  • While his sire, mature in vice,
  • A friend, a partner, or a guest betrays,