« PoprzedniaDalej »
AD CILNIUM MECENATEM.
Alios aliis fiudiis duci: fe lyrici vai gloriam ambire, un
O et præfidium, et dulce ecus me
Sunt quos curriculo pulverem
Collegiffe juvat; metaque fervidis
15 MR Evehere. Bentl. 1956
ODES OF HORACE.
Men bave various attachments: Horace's tape is for Lyric poetry, for the Juccess of which be depends upon the pa tronage of cenas.
MEGENAS, defcended from royal ancestors, O both
rotection my There are fome, who delight is to have collected Olympic duft in the char races and whom the goal nicely avoided by glowing wheels, and the noble palm, exalts to the Godsthe governors of the world.
This manif an affembly of the capricious Roman commonalty be bent to raise him to the higheft dignities; another, if he hath * ftored up in his own granary what
Hath imported vast quantities of corn from Africa.
Quidquid de Libycis verritur eis;
Myrtöum pavidus naut fecet mare.
unc ad aquæ lene caput facra.
† Infernge fuavia Baxt,
foever is swept from the Lybian threshing-floors: a third, as his delight is to plough his patrimonial fields, you could never tempt, with all the wealth of Attalus, to become a timorous failor and cross the Myrtgan fea in a Cyprian bark. The merchant, dreading the fouth-west wind contending with the Icarian waves, commends tranquillity and the rural retirement of his village: but danger over, and incapable of being taught to bear poverty, he refits his fhattered reffel. There is another, whofe highest indulgence is in cups of old Maffic, and in breaking the day, one while ftretched at cafe under the green. Arbutus, another at the placid head of fome facred ftream.
The camp, and the found of the mingled confufed with that of the clarion, and wars detefted by mothers, rejoice many.
The huntsman, unmindful of his tender spouse, remains in the cold air, whether a hart is held in view by his faithful hounds, or a Marfian boar has broken the circling toils.
Ivy, the reward of learned brows, equals Me (in happiefs) to the Gods above: the cool grove, and the light dances of Nymphs and Satyrs, diftinguith Me from the crowd; if neither Euterpe withholds her pipe, nor Polyhymia disdains to tune the Lefbian lyre. But, if you will rank me among the Lyric poets, I fall tower to the stars with my exalted head.