Odes

Horace

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

You hear her? or is this the play

Of fond illusion? Hark! meseems

Through gardens of the good I stray,

'Mid murmuring gales and purling streams.

Me, as I lay on Vultur's steep,

A truant past Apulia's bound,

O'ertired, poor child, with play and sleep,

With living green the stock-doves crown'd—

A legend, nay, a miracle,

By Acherontia's nestlings told,

By all in Bantine glade that dwell,

Or till the rich Forentan mould.