Odes

Horace

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

No heralds shall my deeds proclaim

To Carthage now: lost, lost is all:

A nation's hope, a nation's name,

They died with dying Hasdrubal.”

What will not Claudian hands achieve?

Jove's favour is their guiding star,

And watchful potencies unweave

For them the tangled paths of war.

Best guardian of Rome's people, dearest boon

Of a kind Heaven, thou lingerest all too long:

Thou bad'st thy senate look to meet thee soon:

Do not thy promise wrong.

Restore, dear chief, the light thou tak'st away:

Ah! when, like spring, that gracious mien of thine