Odes Horace Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. Conington, John, translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1882. Laughs carnage, havoc, all to scorn,And draws new spirit from the knife.Not the lopp'd Hydra task'd so soreAlcides, chafing at the foil:No pest so fell was born of yoreFrom Colchian or from Theban soil.Plunged in the deep, it mounts to sightMore splendid: grappled, it will quellUnbroken powers, and fight a fightWhose story widow'd wives shall tell.No heralds shall my deeds proclaimTo Carthage now: lost, lost is all: