His surname from Africa vanquish'd who drew,
Than doth the Calabrian Muse by its lays :
Nor, if no song tell your triumphs, will you
Reap the full guerdon of life-giving praise.

What were great Mavors' and Ilia's son,
Had envious silence his merits suppress'd?
Styx's dark flood had o'er Æacus run,

But song bore him on to the Isles of the Blest.

Dower'd by the Muse with a home in the sky,
Ne'er can he perish, whom she doth approve :
Dauntless Alcides thus revels on high,
Guest at the coveted banquets of Jove.

So the Twin Stars, as through tempests they glow,
Save the spent seaman, when most he despairs;
Bacchus, with vine-leaves fresh garlanded, so
Brings to fair issues his votary's pray❜rs.

ODE IX.

TO LOLLIUS.

NEVER deem, they must perish, the verses, which I,
Who was born where the waters of Aufidus roar,
To the chords of the lyre with a cunning ally
Unknown to the bards of my country before!

Though Mæonian Homer unrivall'd may reign,
Yet are not the Muses Pindaric unknown,
The threats of Alcæus, the Ceian's sad strain,
Nor stately Stesichorus' lordlier tone.

Unforgot is the sportive Anacreon's lay,

Still, still sighs the passion, unquench'd is the fire,
Which the Lesbian maiden in days far away
From her love-laden bosom breathed into the lyre.

Not alone has Lacanian Helena's gaze
Been fix'd by the gloss of a paramour's hair,
By vestments with gold and with jewels ablaze,
By regal array, and a retinue rare;

Nor did Teucer first wield the Cydonian bow,
Nor was Troy by a foe but once harass'd and

wrung;

Nor Idomeneus only, or Sthenelus show

Such prowess in war as deserved to be sung;

Nor yet was redoubtable Hector, nor brave
Deiphobus first in the hard-stricken field

By the dint of the strokes, which they took and they gave,

Their babes and the wives of their bosoms to shield.

Many, many have lived, who were valiant in fight, Before Agamemnon; but all have gone down, Unwept and unknown, in the darkness of night, For lack of a poet to hymn their renown.

Hidden worth differs little from sepulchred ease, But, Lollius, thy fame in my pages shall shine; I will not let pale-eyed Forgetfulness seize

These manifold noble achievements of thine.

Thou, my friend, hast a soul, by whose keen-sighted range

Events afar off in their issues are seen,

A soul, which maintains itself still through each change

Of good or ill fortune erect and serene.

Of rapine and fraud the avenger austere,

To wealth and its all-snaring blandishments proof, The Consul art thou not of one single year, But as oft as a judge, from all baseness aloof,

Thou hast made the expedient give place to the right,

And flung back the bribes of the guilty with scorn,

And on through crowds warring against thee with might

Thy far-flashing arms hast triumphantly borne.

Not him, who of much that men prize is possess'd, May'st thou fitly call "blest"; he may claim to enjoy

More fitly, more truly, the title of " blest,"
Who wisely the gifts of the gods can employ; -

Who want, and its hardships, and slights can withstand,

And shrinks from disgrace as more bitter than death;

Not he for the friends whom he loves, or the land Of his fathers will dread to surrender his breath.

10*

ODE X.

TO A CRUEL BEAUTY.

Aн, cruel, cruel still,

And yet divinely fair,

When Time with fingers chill

Shall thin the wavy hair,

Which now in many a wanton freak

Around thy shoulders flows,

When fades the bloom, which on thy cheek Now shames the blushing rose;

Ah, then as in thy glass

Thou gazest in dismay,

Thou 'lt cry, "Alas! Alas!

Why feel I not to-day,

As in my maiden bloom, when I
Unmoved heard lovers moan;

Or, now that I would win them, why
Is all my beauty flown?"