The Odes of Horace

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: ODE XXXI. THE POET'S PRAYER. What asks the poet, who adores Apollo's virgin shrine, What asks he, as he freely pours The consecrating wine ? Not the rich grain, that waves along Sardinia's fertile land, Nor the unnumber'd herds, that throng Calabria's sultry strand; Not gold, nor ivory's snowy gleam, The spoil of far Cathay, Nor fields, which I/iris, quiet stream, Gnaws silently away. Let fortune's favour'd sons the vine Of fair Campania hold ; The merchant quaff the rarest wine From cups of gleaming gold; For to the gods the man is dear Who scathelessly can brave, Three times or more in every year, The wild Atlantic wave. Let olives, endive, mallows light Be all my fare ; and health Give thou, Latoe, so I might Enjoy my present wealth ! Give me but these, I ask no more, These, and a mind entire — And old age, not unhonour'd, nor Unsolaced by the lyre I ODE XXXII. TO HIS LYRE. It e'er with thee, my lyre, beneath the shade I 've sported, carolling some idle lay, Destined mayhap not all at once to fade, Aid me to sing a master-song to-day, In strains, the Lesbian's lyre was foremost to essay; Who, though in battle brave among the brave, Yet, even amidst the camp's tumultuous roar, Or when his bark, long toss'd upon the wave, Lay anchor'd safe upon the oozy shore, Did hymns to Bacchus and the golden Muses pour. And Venus, and that source of many sighs, The Boy, who from her side is parted ne'er, And Lycus famed for his black lustrous eyes, And for the glory of his deep dark hair, Hang in his full-toned verse along the charmed air. O, 'midst Apollo's glories chief of all, Thou shell, that ever art a welcome guest, In sovereign Jove's imperial banquet-hall, Thou, labour's b...