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HORACE, BOOK III. O DE XXIX.

BY THE SAME.

I.

MECENAS, off-fpring of Tyrrhenian kings,

And worthy of the greatest empire's sway,
Unbend thy working mind awhile, and play
With fofter thoughts, and looser firings;
Hard iron, ever wearing, will decay.

II.

A piece untouch'd of old and noble wine
Attends thee here; foft effence for thy hair,
Of purple violets made, or lilies fair;

The rofes hang their heads and pine,
And, till you come, in vain perfume the air.
III.

Be not inveigled by the gloomy fhades
Of Tiber, nor cool Anio's crystal streams :
The fun is yet but young, his gentle beams
Revive, and fcorch not up the blades.

The fpring, like virtue, dwells between extremes.
IV.

Leave fulfome plenty for a while, and come

From ftately palaces that tower fo high,
And fpread fo far; the duft and business fly,

The smoke and noise of mighty Rome,
And cares, that on embroider'd carpets lie.

V.

It is viciffitude that pleasure yields

To men,
with greatest wealth and honours bleft;
And fometimes homely fare, but cleanly dreft.
In country farms, or pleasant fields,

Clears up a cloudy brow, and thoughtful breast.

VI.

Now the cold winds have blown themselves away,
The frofts are melted into pearly dews,

The chirping birds each morning tell the news
Of chearful spring and welcome day,

The tender lambs follow the bleating ewes.

VII.

The vernal bloom adorns the fruitful trees
With various drefs; the soft and gentle rains
Begin with flowers t' enamel all the plains;
The turtle with her mate agrees;

And wanton nymphs with their enamour'd swains.
VIII.

Thou art contriving in thy mind, what state

And form becomes that mighty city best:

Thy bufy head can take no gentle rest,
For thinking on the events and fate

Of factious rage, which has her long oppreft.

IX.

Thy cares extend to the remotest shores

Of her vaft empire; how the Perfian arms;

Whether the Bactrians join their troops; what harms

From the Cantabrians and the Moors

May come, or the tumultuous German fwarms.

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X.

But the wife Powers above, that all things know,
In fable night have hid the events, and train
Of future things; and with a just disdain

Laugh, when poor mortals here below

Fear without cause, and break their sleeps in vain,
XI.

Think how the present thou may'st best * compose
With equal mind, and without endless cares ;
For the unequal course of state affairs,

Like to the ocean, ebbs and flows,

Or rather like our neighbouring Tiber fares.

XII.

Now fimooth and gentle + through her channel creeps, With foft and eafy murmurs purling down:

Now fwells and rages, threatening all to drown,

Away both corn and cattle fweeps,

And fills with noife and horror fields and town.
XIII.

After a while, grown calm, retreats again
Into her fandy bed, and foftly glides.
So Jove fometimes in fiery chariot rides

With cracks of thunder, ftorms of rain,
Then grows ferene, and all our fears derides.

XIV.

He only lives content, and his own man,

Or rather master, who each night can fay,

'Tis well, thanks to the gods, I've liv'd to-day ; This is my own, this never can,

Like other goods, be forc'd or ftol'n away.

well, in Lady G's copy.

+ filent, ibid.

XV.

And for to-morrow let me weep or laugh, Let the fun fhine, or ftorms or tempefts ring, Yet 'tis not in the power of fates, a thing Should ne'er have been, or not be fafe, Which flying Time has cover'd with his wing. XVI.

Capricious Fortune plays a feornful game With human things; uncertain as the wind : Sometimes to thee, fometimes to me is kind : Throws about honours, wealth, and fame, At random, heedlefs, humourous, and blind. XVII.

He's wife, who, when the fmiles, the good enjoys, And unallay'd with fears of future ill;

But, if the frowns, e'en let her have her will.

I can with ease resign the

toys,

And lie wrapp'd-up in my own virtue flill.

XVIII.

I'll make my court to honeft poverty, An eafy wife, although without a dower: What nature afks will yet be in my power; For without pride or luxury

How little ferves to pafs the fleeting hour!

XIX.

'Tis not for me, when winds and billows rife,

And crack the maft, and mock the feamen's cares,
To fall to poor and mercenary prayers,

For fear the Tyrian merchandise

Should all be loft, and not enrich my heirs.

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XX.

I'll rather leap into the little boat,

Which, without fluttering fails, fhall waft me o'er
The fwelling waves, and then I'll think no more
Of fhip, or fraight: but change my note,
And thank the gods, that I am fafe a-shore.

HORACE, BOOK I. PART OF EP. IL

No

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OR house nor lands, nor heaps of plate, or gold, Can cure a fever's heat, or ague's cold, Much less a mind with grief or care oppreft: No man's poffeffions e'er can make him bless'd, That is not well himself, and found at heart; Nature will ever be too strong for art. Whoever feeds vain hopes, or fond defires, Distracting fears, wild love, or jealous fires, Is pleas'd with all his fortunes, like fore eyes With curious pictures; gouty legs and thighs. With dancing; or half-dead and aching ears With mufic, while the noise he hardly hears. For, if the cafk remains unfound or four, Be the wine ne'er fo rich, or fweet, you pour, "Twill take the veffel's tafte, and lofe its own, And all you fill were better let alone.

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