Ye bleft remains of that illuftrious age!
Delightful fprings and woods !—

Might I with you my peaceful days live o'er,
You, and my friend, whofe abfence I deplore,
Calm as a gentle brook's unruffled tide
Should the delicious flowing minutes glide;
Difcharg'd of care, on unfrequented plains,
We'd fing of rural joys in rural strains.

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No falfe corrupt delights our thoughts should move,
But joys of friendship, poetry, and love,
While others fondly feed ambition's fire,
And to the top of human ftate afpire,
That from their airy eminence they may
With pride and fcorn th' inferior world furvey,
Here we should dwell obfcure, yet happier far than
they.

H OR A CE,

BOOK I ODE XXII.

Integer vitæ, fcelerifque purus,

"Non eget Mauri jaculis, neque arcu," &c.

Wrapp'd in thick clouds, and shades of night,
To confcious fouls direct thy flight!

There brood on guilt, fix there a loath'd embrace,
And propagate vain terrors, frights,

Dreams, goblins, and imagin'd fprights,

Thy visionary tribe, thy black and monftrous race. Go, haunt the flave that ftains his hands in gore Poffefs the perjur'd mind, and rack the Ufurer more, Than his oppreffion did the poor before.

II.

Vainly, you feeble wretches, you prepare
The glittering forgery of war;

The poifon'd shaft, the Parthian bow, and fpear
Like that the warlike Moor is wont to wield,

Which pois'd and guided from his ear

He hurls impetuous through the field :

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In vain you lace the helm, and heave in vain the

field;

He's only fafe, whofe armour of defence

Is adamantine innocence.

III.

If o'er the fteepy Alps he go,

Vaft mountains of eternal fnow,

Or where fam'd Ganges and Hydafpes flow;

If o er parch'd Libya's defart land,

Where threatening from afar

Th' affrighted traveller

Encounters moving hills of fand;

No fenfe of danger can disturb his rest;

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2.5

He

He fears no human force, nor favage beast; Impenetrable courage fteels his manly breaft. IV.

Thus, late within the Sabine grove,

While free from care, and full of love,

I raise my tuneful voice, and stray
Regardless of myself and way,

A grizly wolf, with glaring eye,

View'd me unarm'd, yet pafs'd unhurtful by.
A fiercer monfter ne'er, in quest of food,
Apulian forefts did molest;

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Numidia never faw a more prodigious beast;
Numidia, mother of the yellow brood,

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Where the stern lion hakes his knotted mane,

And roars aloud for prey, and fcours the fpacious plain.

V.

Place me where no foft breeze of fummer wind
Did e'er the ftiffen'd foil unbind,

Where no refreshing warmth e'er durft invade, 45
But Winter holds his unmolefted feat,

In all his hoary robes array'd,

And rattling forms of hail, and noisy tempests beat.
Place me beneath the fcorching blaze
Of the fierce fun's immediate rays,
Where house or cottage ne'er were seen,
Nor rooted plant or tree, nor fpringing green;
Yet, lovely Lalage, my generous flame
Shall ne'er expire; I'll boldly fing of thee,
Charm'd with the mufic of thy name,
And guarded by the gods of Love and Poetry.

H 3

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HORACE

HOR A С Е,

BOOK II. ODE XVI.

TO GROS PH US.

IN

"Otium Divos rogat in patenti

"Prenfus gæo," &c.

IMITATED IN PARAPHRASE.

I.

NDULGENT Quiet! power serene,
Mother of Peace, and Joy, and Love!
O fay, thou calm propitious queen,

Say, in what folitary grove,

Within what hollow rock, or winding cell,

By human eyes unfeen,

Like fome retreated Druid doft thou dwell?

And why, illufive goddess! why,

When we thy manfion would furround,

Why doft thou lead us through inchanted ground, To mock our vain research, and from our wishes fly?

II.

The wandering failors, pale with fear,
For thee the gods implore,

When the tempeftuous fea runs high,

And when, through all the dark benighted fky, 15

No

No friendly moon or stars appear

To guide their steerage to the fhore:
For thee the weary foldier prays;
Furious in fight the fons of Thrace,
And Medes, that wear majeftic by their fide
A full-charg'd quiver's decent pride,
Gladly with thee would pafs inglorious days,

Renounce the warrior's tempting praise,

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And buy thee, if thou might'st be sold, With gems, and purple vests, and stores of plunder'd

gold.

III.

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But neither boundless wealth, nor guards that wait Around the conful's honour'd gate,

Nor anti-chambers with attendants fill'd,

The mind's unhappy tumults can abate,

Or banish fullen cares, that fly

Across the gilded rooms of ftate,

And their foul nefts, like fwallows, build

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Close to the palace-roofs, and towers that pierce the sky.

Much lefs will Nature's modeft wants fupply;

And happier lives the homely swain,
Who, in fome cottage, far from noise,

His few paternal goods enjoys,
Nor knows the fordid luft of gain,

Nor with Fear's tormenting pain

His hovering fleeps deftroys.

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