Odes

Horace

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

  • The sweet spring-flowers not always keep
  • Their bloom, nor moonlight shines the same
  • Each evening. Why with thoughts too deep
  • O'ertask a mind of mortal frame?
  • Why not, just thrown at careless ease
  • 'Neath plane or pine, our locks of grey
  • Perfumed with Syrian essences
  • And wreathed with roses, while we may,