Our wives and children share our joy, Thus grateful hail the busy day; But first with solemn rites the gods adore, And, like our sires, their sacred aid implore; Then vocal, with harmonious lays To Lydian flutes, of cheerful sound, Attemper'd sweetly, we shall raise The valiant deeds of chiefs renown'd, Old Troy, Anchises, and the godlike race Of Venus, blooming with immortal grace. ODES. BOOK V. ODE I. TO MECENAS. HILE you, Mæcenas, dearest friend, WHI Would Cæsar's person with your own defend; And Antony's high-towered fleet With light Liburnian galleys fearless meet, What shall forsaken Horace do, Whose every joy of live depends on you? And life, without thee, can no pleasure give. And idly waste my joyless hours away? Or, as becomes. the brave, embrace The glorious toil, and spurn the thoughts of peace? I will; and over Alpine snow, Or savage Caucasus, intrepid go; Or follow, with undaunted breast, Thy dreadful warfare to the furthest West. A puny warrior; novice to the sword. The danger lessens when the friend is near: Thus, if the mother-bird forsake Her unfledg'd young, she dreads the gliding snake With deeper agonies afraid, Not that her presence could afford them aid. With cheerful heart will I sustain, To purchase your esteem, this dread campaign: Not that my flocks, when Sirius reigns, To where the walls of Tusculum ascend. Tasteless in earth to hide the sordid store, Or like a spendthrift squander it away. L' ODE II. THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY LIFE. IKE the first mortals blest is he, From debts, and usury, and business free, Around the lofty bridegroom elm he twines; His lowing herd safe-wandering as they graze; Prest from the hive, or sheers his tender fold; His guardian gods upon their festal days; And with its murmurs courts him to repose. His nets, and with delusive baits betrays; Artful he sets the springing snare, To catch the stranger crane, or timorous hare. Of sun-burnt charms, but honest fame, Or in their folds his happy flocks confine; Or fish, the luxury of foreign seas (If eastern tempests, thundering o'er The wintry wave, shall drive them to our shore); Or wild-fowl of delicious taste, From distant climates brought to crown the feast, " As olives gather'd from their unctuous tree, And cheerful health with pure digestion yield; Or kid just rescued from some beast of prey. His well-fed flocks home hasting to their fold! Their languid necks, and drag th' inverted plough, |