ODE VII.

TO POMPEIUS VARUS.

He congratulates his friend on his being restored to him and his country.

O OFTEN reduced with me to the last extremity, in the war which Brutus carried on, who has restored thee, a Roman citizen, to the Gods of thy country and the Italian air; Pompey, thou first of my companions, with whom I have frequently broken* the loitering day in drinking, having my hair, shining with Syrian unguents, crowned with flowers? Together with thee did I experience the battle of Philippi, and a precipitate flight, having shamefully enough left my shield when valour itself was broken, and the most daring smote the squalid earth with their faces. But Mercury swift conveyed me away, terrified as I was, in a thick cloud, through the midst of the enemy. Thee the reciprocating sea, with its tempestuous waves, bore back again to war. Wherefore, render to Jupiter the offering that is due, and deposit your limbs, wearied with a tedious war, under my laurel, and spare not those casks that were reserved for you. Fill up the polished bowls with oblivious Massack: pour out the perfumed ointments from the capacious shells. Who takes care to hasten the chaplets of fresh parsley or myrtle? Whom shall the Venust pronounce to be toast

*To break a day, is with us also a common form of expression, in many parts of England, for leaving part of the proper business of the day undone.

The Romans chose their toast-master by casting of dice, and the fortunate throw they named Venus.

master? In wild carouse I will become frantic as the Bacchanalians. It is delightful to me to play the madman, on the reception of my friend.

ODE VIII.

TO BARINE.

That her swearing was no reason for his believing her; for the Gods never punished the perjuries of beauties.

Ir any punishment, Barine, for your violated oath had ever been of prejudice to you; if you had become less agreeable by the blackness of a single tooth or nail, I might believe you. But you no sooner have bound your perfidious head with solemn vows, but you shine out more charming by far, and come forth the public care of all our youth. It is of advantage to you to deceive the buried ashes of your mother, and the silent constellations of the night, together with all heaven, and the immortal Gods. Venus, herself, I profess, laughs at this: the gentle Nymphs laugh, and cruel Cupid, who is perpetually sharpening his burning darts on a bloody whetstone. Add to this, that all our boys are growing up for you; a new set of slaves is growing up; nor do the former ones quit the house of their impious* mistress, notwithstanding they often have threatened it. The matrons are in dread of you on account of their young lads; the thrifty old men are in dread of you; and the girls but just married are in distress, lest your beauty should slacken the affections of their husbands.

* As having so often broken her faith.

ODE IX.

TO TITUS VALGIUS.

He comforts his friend grieving for the loss of his son.

SHOWERS do not perpetually pour down upon the furrowed fields, nor do hurricanes for ever harass the Caspian sea; nor, my friend Valgius, does the motionless ice remain fixed throughout all the months in the regions of Armenia: nor do the Garganian oaks always labour under the northerly winds, and the ash-trees are not always widowed of their leaves. But you continually pursue Mystes, who is taken from you, with mournful measures: nor do the effects of your love for him cease at the rising of Vesper, nor when he flies the rapid approach of the sun. But the three-aged old man (Nestor) did not lament for the amiable Antilochus all the years of his life: nor did his parents, or his Trojan sisters, perpetually bewail the blooming Troilus. length then desist from your tender complaints; and rather let us sing the fresh trophies of Augustus Cæsar, and how the frozen Niphates, and the river Medus, added to the vanquished nations, roll more humble tides, and the Gelonians ride within a small tract of land, and pass not the bound prescribed them.

At

ODE X.

TO LICINIUS MURENA.

He advises him to be content with a mean, and to maintain an evenness of temper.

O LICINIUS, you will lead a better course of life by neither always pursuing the main sea, nor, while you cautiously are in dread of storms, by pressing too much upon the hazardous shore. Whosoever loves the golden mean is secure from the sordidness of an antiquated cell, and is too prudent to have a palace that might expose him to envy. The lofty pine is more frequently agitated with winds, and high towers fall down with a heavier ruin; and thunderbolts strike the summits of the mountains. A well provided breast hopes in adversity, and fears in prosperity. It is the same Jupiter that brings the hideous winters back, and that takes them away. If it is bad with us now, it shall not be so hereafter. Apollo sometimes rouses the silent lyric Muse, nor does he always bend his bow. In narrow circumstances, appear in high spirits, and undaunted. In the same manner you will prudently contract your sails, which are apt to be too much swollen in a prosperous gale.

ODE XI.

TO QUINTIUS HIRPINUS.

He endeavours to divert the mind of Quintius from public and private solicitudes, to a taste for gayety and enjoyment.

O QUINTIUS HIRPINUS, forbear to be inquisitive what the Cantabrian, and the Scythian, divided from us by the interposition of the Adriatic, is meditating; neither be fearfully solicitous for the necessaries of life, which requires but a few things. Youth and beauty fly swift away, while sapless old age expels the wanton loves and gentle sleep. The same glory does not always remain to the vernal flowers; nor does the ruddy moon shine with one continued aspect: why, therefore, do you fatigue your mind, unequal to eternal projects? Why do we not rather, (while it is in our power,) thus carelessly reclining under a lofty plane-tree, or this pine, with our hoary locks made fragrant with roses, and anointed with Syrian perfume, indulge ourselves with generous wine? Bacchus dissipates preying cares. What slave is at hand here instantly to cool some cups of ardent Faler nian in the passing stream? Who will tempt the vagrant wanton Lyde from her house? See that you bid her hasten with her ivory lyre, not staying to dress her hair, but being content to have it collected into a careless knot, after the Spartan fashion.