Aut pressa puris mella condit amphoris, Vel cum decor um mitibus pomis caput Ut gaudet insitiva decerpens pyra, Libet jacere modò sub antiqua ilice; Fontesque lymphis obstrepunt manantibus, At cum tonentis annus hibernus Jovis Aut trudit acres hinc, et hinc multâ cane Apros in obstantes plagas: Aut amite levi rara tendit retia ; Turdis edacibus dolos; Pavidumque leporem, et advenam laqueo gruem, Fucunda captat præmia: Quis non malarum, quas amor curas habet, Hæc inter obliviscitur? Quòd si pudica mulier in partem juvet Sacrum vestusti extruat lignis focum Claudensque textis cratibus lætum pecus Et horna dulci vina promens dolio Non me Lucrina juverint conchylia, Or the prest honey in pure pots doth keep Whilst from the higher banks do slide the floods; The fountains murmur as the streams do creep, Then when the thund'ring Jove, his snow and showers Are gathering by the wintry hours: Or hence, or thence, he drives with many a hound Wild boars into his toils pitch'd round: Or strains on his small fork his subtle nets For th' eating thrush, or pit-falls sets: And snares the fearful hare, and new-come crane, But if, to boot with these, a chaste wife meet To deck the hallow'd hearth with old wood fired Not Lucrine oysters I could then more prize, Nor turbot, nor bright golden-eyes : Si quos Eois intonata fluctibus Non Afra avis descendat in ventrem meum : Jucundior, quam lecta de pinguissimis Aut herba lapathi prata amantis, et gravi Has inter epulas, ut juvat pastas oves Positosque vernas, ditis examen domus, HORACE, ODE I. LIB. IV. AD VENEREM. NTERMISSA Venus diu, Rursus bella moves: parce precor, precor: Non sumqualis eram bonæ Sub regno Cynara: desine dulcium Mater sava Cupidinum, Circa lustra decem flectere mollibus Fam durum imperiis: abi Quò blanda juvenum te revocant preces. Tempestivius in domo Pauli purpureis ales oloribus, If with bright floods, the winter troubled much, The Ionian godwit, nor the ginny-hen Could not go down my belly then More sweet than olives, that new-gather'd be Or the herb sorrel, that loves meadows still, Or at the feast of bounds, the lamb then slain, To view the weary oxen draw, with bare These thoughts when usurer Alphius, now about ODE I. BOOK IV. TO VENUS. ENUS, again thou mov'st a war spare: I am not such, as in the reign Of the good Cynara I was: refrain Sour mother of sweet Loves, forbear To bend a man now at his fiftieth year Too stubborn for commands so slack: Go where youth's soft entreaties call thee back. More timely hie thee to the house, With thy bright swans, of Paulus Maximus : Comissabere Maximi, Si torrere jecur quæris idoneum. Latè signa feret militiæ tuæ. Largi muneribus riserit æmuli, Albanos prope te lacus Ponet marmoream sub trabe cyprea. Illic plurima naribus Duces tura, lyræque, et Berecynthia Delectabere tibia Mistis carminibus non sine fistula. Illic bis pueri die, Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum Laudantes, pede candido In morem Salium ter quatient humum. Me nec fœmina nec puer Fam, nec spes animi credula mutui, Nec certare juvat mero : Nec vincire novis tempora floribus. Sed cur, heu! Ligurine, cur Manat rara meas lachryma per genas Cur facunda parum decoro Inter verba cadit lingua silentio? Nocturnis te ego somniis ? Fam captum teneo, jam volucrem sequor : Te per gramina Martii Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles. |