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

  • When through rent clouds the Pleiads weep,
  • So keen his force to smite, and smite
  • The foe, or make his charger leap
  • Through the red furnace of the fight.
  • Thus Daunia's ancient river fares,
  • Proud Aufidus, with bull-like horn,
  • When swoln with choler he prepares
  • A deluge for the fields of corn.
  • So Claudius charged and overthrew
  • The grim barbarian's mail-clad host,
  • The foremost and the hindmost slew,
  • And conquer'd all, and nothing lost.
  • The force, the forethought, were thine own,
  • Thine own the gods. The selfsame day
  • When, port and palace open thrown,
  • Low at thy footstool Egypt lay,
  • That selfsame day, three lustres gone,
  • Another victory to thine hand
  • Was given; another field was won
  • By grace of Caesar's high command.