But, lest any who e'er venture to pass Liber's due

bounds there be,

Centaurs, and the fierce wars, over their wine, waged

with the Lapithæ,

Should warn: Evius should warn, merciless

the Sithonians found,

aye by

When they, eager of lust, can but divide by a most

narrow bound

The pure from the impure. But I shall ne'er, beautiful Bassareus,

Move thee 'gainst thy desire; or what is hid 'neath the close leaves produce

Rashly unto the day. Silence thou that horn's Berecyntian strain

Which, with cymbals' harsh clang, blind Self-esteem followeth next in train

Glory, vaunting itself more than is meet, doth a light

head upraise:

Bad-faith, which, an unthrift of a pledged trust,

clearer than glass betrays!

XIX.

ON GLYCERA.

THE Loves' mother, to me, unkind,

Theban Semele's son, issue a firm behest

And eke License, of wanton mind

To flames, quenched of yore, that I resign my breast.

For me Glycera's beauty fires,

Shining brighter than e'en shineth the Parian pure; Her sweet coyness, itself, inspires:

Her face, which to the view dazzles beyond endure !

On me Venus descends supreme,

Cyprus leaving awhile; nor will permit me e'er

Scythian, Parthian to make my theme:

Dreadful from the turned steeds: since they concern

her ne'er.

Here, youths, place me a living shrine

The turf; vervain, and, here, incense around me set, With a bowl of the two-years' wine:

Victims having been slain, she will be kinder, yet!

XX.

TO MECENAS.

MODERATE goblets of my plain Sabinum

Shalt thou with me quaff, in a Grecian jar stored, Which I myself did seal when thou receivedst

Theatres' plaudits,

So that the wide banks, noble knight Mæcenas,

Of thy paternal stream, and sportive echo

Of Vaticanus were, at once, resounding

Thy commendation.

And thou shalt drink of Cæcuban: the grape, too,

From the Calenian press its juice distilling;

Ne'er the Falernian with my cup commingles—

Never the Formian!

XXI.

CHORAL ODE.

VIRGINS, tender and young, praises of Dian sing!

Sing the Cynthian's high praise, ever a youth, ye

youths:

And Latona, so deeply

By th' omnipotent Jove beloved!

Ye, her who in the streams and the grove's shade delights,

Whate'er either projects from the cold Algidus,

Or the woods Erymanthian

Gloomy, or those of Cragus green!