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

  • O, 'tis all of thy dear grace
  • That every finger points me out in going
  • Lyrist of the Roman race;
  • Breath, power to charm, if mine, are thy bestowing!
  • E'en as the lightning's minister,
  • Whom Jove o'er all the feather'd breed
  • Made sovereign, having proved him sure
  • Erewhile on auburn Ganymede;
  • Stirr'd by warm youth and inborn power,
  • He quits the nest with timorous wing,
  • For winter's storms have ceased to lower,
  • And zephyrs of returuing spring
  • Tempt him to launch on unknown skies
  • Next on the fold he stoops downright;
  • Last on resisting serpents flies,
  • Athirst for foray and for flight:
  • As tender kidling on the grass
  • Espies, uplooking from her food,
  • A lion's whelp, and knows, alas!
  • Those new-set teeth shall drink her blood: