Odes

Horace

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

  • Should aught but death the prisoner's chain
  • Unrivet. “I have seen,” he said,
  • “Rome's eagle in a Punic fane,
  • And armour, ne'er a blood-drop shed,
  • Stripp'd from the soldier; I have seen
  • Free sons of Rome with arms fast tied;
  • The fields we spoil'd with corn are green,
  • And Carthage opes her portals wide.
  • The warrior, sure, redeem'd by gold,
  • Will fight the bolder! Aye, you heap
  • On baseness loss. The hues of old
  • Revisit not the wool we steep;