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[Greek: Eis rodon.]


Ode 5



Mingle with the genial bowl
The Rose, the 'flow'ret' of the Soul,
The Rose and Grape together quaff'd,
How doubly sweet will be the draught!...

[Greek: Thelo legein Atpeidas, k.t.l.] [1]



Ode 1.

To His Lyre.



I wish to tune my quivering lyre,
To deeds of fame, and notes of fire;...

Equal to Jove that youth must be -
Greater than Jove he seems to me -
Who, free from Jealousy's alarms,
Securely views thy matchless charms;
That cheek, which ever dimpling glows,...

Ye Cupids droop each little head,
Nor let your wings with joy be spread,
My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead,
Which dearer than her eyes she lov'd:
For he was gentle and so true,...

Ye Cupids, droop each little head,
Nor let your wings with joy be spread,
My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead,
Whom dearer than her eyes she lov'd:
For he was gentle, and so true,...

Justum et tenacem propositi virum.

HOR. 'Odes', iii. 3. I.


1.

The man of firm and noble soul
No factious clamours can controul;
No threat'ning tyrant's darkling brow...

You better sure shall live, not evermore
Trying high seas; nor, while sea's rage you flee,
Pressing too much upon ill-harboured shore.

The golden mean who loves, lives safely free...

Scripta manet.


'Twas graved on the Stone of Destiny,[1]
In letters four and letters three;
And ne'er did the King of the Gulls go by
But those awful letters scared his eye;...

[Greek: Erotes hyper men agan, K.T.L.[1]]


1.

When fierce conflicting passions urge
The breast, where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge...

Sonnet composed in the name of a father, whose daughter had recently died shortly after her marriage; and addressed to the father of her who had lately taken the veil.

Of two fair virgins, modest, though admired,...

Goddess of woods, tremendous in the chase,
To mountain wolves and all the savage race,
Wide o'er the aerial vault extend thy sway,
And o'er the infernal regions void of day....

In all my Enna's beauties blest,
Amidst profusion still I pine;
For though she gives me up her breast,
Its panting tenant is not mine.

THE EDITORS OF THE PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM

But Cytherea, studious to invent
Arts yet untried, upon new counsels bent,
Resolves that Cupid, changed in form and face...

He who, sublime, in epic numbers roll'd,
And he who struck the softer lyre of Love,
By Death's unequal[1] hand alike controul'd,
Fit comrades in Elysian regions move!

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