Odes

Horace

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

  • (Wreathed ivy suits your hair, you know):
  • The plate shines bright: the altar, strew'd
  • With vervain, hungers for the flow
  • Of lambkin's blood.
  • There's stir among the serving folk;
  • They bustle, bustle, boy and girl;
  • The flickering flames send up the smoke
  • In many a curl.
  • But why, you ask, this special cheer?
  • We celebrate the feast of Ides,
  • Which April's month, to Venus dear,
  • In twain divides.
  • O, 'tis a day for reverence,
  • E'en my own birthday scarce so dear,
  • For my Maecenas counts from thence
  • Each added year.