ODE II.

TO AUGUSTUS.

E

NOUGH of snow, and hail, th' immortal Sire
Hath pour'd tempestuous; whilst his thunders

dire,

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With red right arm at his own temples hurl'd,
With fear and horror shook the guilty world,
Lest Pyrrha's age return, with plaintive cries
Who saw the deep with new-born wonders rise;
When to the mountain-summit Proteus drove
His sea-born herd, and where the woodland dove
Late perch'd, his wonted seat, the scaly brood
Entangled hung upon the topmost wood,
And every timorous native of the plain
High-floating swam amid the boundless main.
We saw, push'd backward to his native source,
The yellow Tiber roll his rapid course,
With impious ruin threat'ning 'Vesta's fane,
And the great monuments of Numa's reign;
With grief and rage while Ilia's bosom glows,
Boastful, for her revenge, his waters rose,
But now, th' uxorious river glides away,

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So Jove commands, smooth-winding to the sea: 20
And yet, less numerous by their parents' crimes,
Our sons shall hear, shall hear to latest times,

It is recorded in History, [Dion.] that the night after the name of Augustus was conferred on Octavius Cæsar, there happened an uncommon inundation of the Tiber; to which this Ode probably alludes,

Of Roman arms with civil gore embru'd,
Which better had the Persian foe subdu'd.

Whom of her guardian gods, what pitying power To raise her sinking state shall Rome implore? 26 Shall her own hallow'd virgins' earnest prayer Harmonious charm offended Vesta's ear?

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To whom shall Jove assign to purge away
The guilty deed? Appear, thou god of day,
But gracious veil thy shoulders beamy-bright,
Oh! veil in clouds th' unsufferable light:
Or may we rather thy protection claim,
Sicilian Venus, laughter-loving dame,
Round whom gay Jocus, and the god of love, 35
Wave the light wing, and hovering playful rove?

Or whom the polish'd helm, the noise of arms,
And the stern soldier's frown with transport warms,
Parent of Rome, amid the rage of fight
Sated with scenes of blood, thy fierce delight! 40
Hither at length thine aspect gracious bend,
And, powerful, thy neglected race defend:
Or thou, fair Maia's winged son, appear,
And mortal shape, in prime of manhood, wear;
Declar'd the guardian of th' imperial state,
Divine avenger of great Cæзar's fate:

Oh! late return to heav'n, and may thy reign
With lengthen'd blessings fill thy wide domain;
Nor let thy people's crimes provoke thy flight,
On air swift-rising to the realms of light.
Great prince and father of the state, receive
The noblest triumphs, which thy Rome can give;
Nor let the Parthian, with unpunish'd pride,
Beyond his bounds, O Cæsar, dare to ride.

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ODE III.

TO THE SHIP IN WHICH VIRGIL SAILED TO ATHENS.

So may the cyprian queen divine,

And the twin-stars with saving lustre shine; So may the father of the wind

All but the western gales propitious bind,

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As you, dear vessel, safe restore
Th' intrusted pledge to the Athenian shore,
And of my soul the partner save,
My much-lov'd Virgil, from the raging wave.
Or oak, or brass with triple fold

That hardy mortal's daring breast enroll'd,

Who first, to the wild ocean's rage,

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Launch'd the frail bark, and heard the winds engage Tempestuous, when the south descends Precipitate, and with the north contends;

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Nor fear'd the stars portending rain, Nor the loud tyrant of the western main, Of power supreme the storm to raise, Or calmer smoothe the surface of the seas. What various forms of death could fright The man, who view'd with fix'd, unshaken sight, 20

This Ode gives a pleasing picture of the friendship that existed between these great Poets, and which appears in many other parts of the works of Horace. Notwithstanding the common reproach of the irritability of Poets, contemporary Poets of distinguished excellence, in all ages, have generally been friends.

The floating monsters, waves enflam'd,

And rocks, for shipwreck'd fleets, ill-fam'd?
Jove has the realms of earth in vain

Divided by th' inhabitable main,

If ships profane, with fearless pride,

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Bound o'er th' inviolable tide.

No laws, or human or divine,

Can the presumptuous race of man confine.

Thus from the sun's etherial beam

When bold Prometheus stole th' enlivening flame, 30 Of fevers dire a ghastly brood,

Till then unknown, th' unhappy fraud pursu'd ;

On earth their horrors baleful spread,

And the pale monarch of the dead,

'Till then slow-moving to his prey, Precipitately rapid swept his way.

Thus did the venturous Cretan dare

To tempt, with impious wings, the void of air;
Thro' hell Alcides urg'd his course:

No work too high for man's audacious force.
Our folly would attempt the skies,

And with gigantic boldness impious rise;
Nor Jove, provok'd by mortal pride,
Can lay his angry thunderbolts aside.

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1

ODE IV.

TO SESTIUS.

NOW winter melts in vernal gales,

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And grateful zephyrs fill the spreading sails; No more the ploughman loves his fire; No more the lowing herds their stalls desire, While earth her richest verdure yields, Nor hoary frosts now whiten o'er the fields. Now joyous thro' the verdant meads, Beneath the rising moon, fair Venus leads

Her various dance, and with her train

Of nymphs and modest graces treads the plain, 10
While Vulcan's glowing breath inspires

The toilsome forge, and blows up all its fires.
Now crown'd with myrtle, or the flow'rs,

Which the glad earth from her free bosom pours,

We'll offer, in the shady grove,

Or lamb, or kid, as Pan shall best approve.

With equal pace, impartial Fate

Knocks at the palace, as the cottage-gate,

Nor should our sum of life extend

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Our growing hopes beyond their destin'd end. 20
When sunk to Pluto's shadowy coasts,
Oppress'd with darkness, and the fabled ghosts,
No more the dice shall there assign
To thee, the jovial monarchy of wine;

No more shall you the fair admire,

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The virgins envy, and the youths desire.

The 7th Ode of Book iv. is nearly on the same subject.