Odes

Horace

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

Then, when her laughter ceased, “Have done

With fume and fret,” she cried, “my fair;

That odious bull will give you soon

His horns to tear.

You know not you are Jove's own dame:

Away with sobbing; be resign'd

To greatness: you shall give your name

To half mankind.”

Neptune's feast-day! what should man

Think first of doing? Lyde mine, be bold,

Broach the treasured Caecuban,

And batter Wisdom in her own stronghold.

Now the noon has pass'd the full,

Yet sure you deem swift Time has made a halt,

Tardy as you are to pull

Old Bibulus' wine-jar from its sleepy vault.