from ancient Lamus Sprung As noble a descent as long From Him the Spring thy generous Blood In undisturbed Streams has flow'd From him the Lamias took their name And swell the Annals of our Fame Thy generous Blood rould nobly down From him that fill'd the Formian Throne Where swoln with Rain swift Liris roars And washes fair Marica's Shores A Potent Scepter grac't his Hand And measur'd out a wide Command To morrow furious Winds shall spread The troubled Shore with useless Weed And fill the Woods with scatter'd Leaves Unless the cawing Crow deceives The Crow that still foretells a Rain And Storm and never caws in vain Now Pile thy Wood whilst sound and dry To morrow morn a Pig shall die And Wine shall cheer thy Slaves and Thee From Country Toyl and Business free And all enjoy a short liv'd Liberty ODE XVIII To FAUNUS Whose Favour and Protection He desires FAunus that flying Nymphs pursues And Courts as oft as they refuse If Yearly Ridglings stain thy Grove If the large Bowl the Friend of Love Still flows with Wine if Prayers invoke And thy old Shrines with Odors smoak Defend my Fields and sunny Farm And keep my tender Flocks from harm Or'e grassy Plains the wanton Flocks The Village with their idle Ox Sport o're the Fields all finely drest When cold December doth restore thy Feast The Lambs midst ravenous Wolves repose The Wood to thee spreads rustick Boughs The Ditcher with his Country Jugg Then smiles to Dance where once he dugg ODE XIX A merry Ode to his Friend who was a Student HOw many years divide Old Inachus and Codrus Reign Who for his Country bravely dy'd You seek with mighty pain These are the idle Labors of thy Brain Old Aeacus you can derive from Jove And tell what mighty Kin he had above You all the Trojan Wars can write But never mind what Wine will cost Who make a Feast and who invite And who a Fire prepares at Night Now Winter spreads the Fields with hoary Frost A Glass come fill me to the rising Moon To Midnight and to Morning one Wee 'l never part whilst Stars do shine Forget thy Books those idle Dreams Fill round Three Bowls or Nine Are sober Jollity's extreams He that th' uneven Muses loves With Three times Three his heat improves A staring Poet rais'd by every Bowl The sober Grace with th' naked two Afraid of Brawls but Three allow And only cheer but never heat the Soul I must be Mad what means the Flute Why hangs the Pipe and silent Lute I hate a niggard quickly spread The sweetest Roses round my Head Let Lycus hear the roaring noise And she the Neighbouring Miss That doth his feeble Love despise And let them pine and envy at our joys Thee Beauteous with thy bushy Hair And like the brightest Evening Star Ripe Chloë seeks with warm desires Whilst I a dull expecting Fop Still linger on with lazy hope And slowly melt in Glycera's tormenting Fires ODE XX. He adviseth his Friend not to strive to part a Lover and his Mistriss DOst see what Dangers must attend Thy Pious Duty to thy Friend 'T is hard to rob a Tygress of her Young Ah bafled Thou shalt soon retreat And midst the shame of a defeat Unequal Foe confess her force too strong When she with Fury rais'd shall move Thro throngs of Youth that offer Love And strive to win her Heart to seize the Fair Then shall we see who wins the Day And who shall seize the Beauteous Prey And in Nearchus have the greatest share Whilst you your winged Arrows draw She whets her Teeth and spreads her paw Whilst he that must bestow the Prize Sits unconcern'd with gloting Eyes On all around his Amorous glances spread His perfum'd loose and wanton Hair Permitting to the waving Air As sweet as Nireus or as Ganymed ODE XXII He Dedicates his Pine to Diana KInd Guardian of my Hills and Grove Who thrice implor'd dost hear and save The teeming Women from the Grave Great here on Earth in Hell and great Above This Tree be thine that long hath stood To shade my House as Years roul round A Bore that Aims a side-ways wound Shall Yearly stain the Trunk with offer'd Blood ODE XXIII Innocence pleases Heaven more than Sacrifice A Fat and costly Sacrifice Is not the welcom'st Tribute to the Skys They 'r more delighted with the small expence Of Honesty and Innocence Let rustick Phydile prepare At each new Moon an humble Prayer And at her old Penates Shrine Pour one small bowl of Country Wine And stain their Altars with a greedy Swine No scorching Winds shall blast her fruit Her Corn be free from barren smut Nor let her darling Children fear The shivering Agues of the dying Year The Sacrifice Albanian Pastures feed Or Snowy Algidum's cold Mountains breed ' Midst fruitful Oaks a pamper'd Beast Shall stain the Axes of the Priest But why should You profusely try With slaughter'd Flocks to bribe the Sky Since Myrtle Crowns and from the neighbouring Flood Few sprinkled drops shall please the God More than whole Rivers of their offer'd blood If with an unpolluted hand Which neither Blood nor wicked Arts have stain'd A little Meal and Salt you bring 'T will prove a more prevailing Offering Than all the Spices of the Eastern King ODE XXIV Nothing can secure a Man from Death And Covetousness is the Root of all Evil. THough You had all the Spice and Gold Arabia sweats and the rich Indies hold Tho You extend Your Palaces O're the Tyrrhene and Pontick Seas When strong Necessity Shall fix her Adamantine hooks on Thee When she shall drag away The trembling melancholy Prey Not all thy Wealth shall save Thy Mind from fear or body from the grave Happier the wandring Scythians live Who all their house in one small Waggon drive Where no unequal bounds Do parcel out the Land in private grounds The Corn grows freely for the Common good And when one Year their Fields they plow'd They sit at Ease whilst others toyl And equal pains manure the Publick Soil There all the Cups the Step-dames hands present To unsuspecting Heirs are innocent No Wife confiding on her Dower Or rich Gallant usurps her Husband's Power None there a lawless sway pretends Her Portion is the vertue of her Friends And cautious Modesty That closer draws the marriage tye They fear to sin or sinning doom'd to dye He that would prize his Country's good And stop the Issue of our Civil blood He that would stand in Brass as fixt as Fate Be nam'd the Father of the State Let him restrain this Brutal rage A glorious Man in future age Since Envious We despise Vertue when present when it flyes Stand and gaze after it with longing Eyes But sad Complaints are vain Vice only yields to pain Her Sword strict Justice needs must draw And cut it off by necessary Law And what are Laws State Pageantry Unless obey'd With the same reverence they were made Unless
disagree Then give your fighting o're And brawl no more But sit and keep your Elbows down like me If you will have the glass go round Then tell from what fair Eys The Arrow flies What Beauty makes Thee Happy in a wound Not tell nay then the Glass remove VVhat ever Charms ensnare Thy Heart are fair You never sin in a dishonest Love Tell boldly tell thy generous flame This is no leaky Ear Nor what I hear Shall my loose Tongue pour out to common fame Unhappy Youth doth She surprize And have her Flames possess 't Thy burning Breast Thou didst deserve a dart from kinder Eyes Undone for no Thessalian Charms Nor e'en the winged Horse Can break her force And free Thee from this strange Chimera's Arms. ODE XXVIII Architas a Mathematician being Shipwrack't is represented begging a Seaman to Bury him and denouncing Vengeance on him if he neglects his Request A Narrow Grave by the Matinian Shore Confines Thee now and thou can'st have no more Ah learn'd Architas ah how small for Thee Whose wond'rous Mind could measure Earth and Sea What Sands make up the Shore minutely teach And count as far as Number 's self could reach What did it profit that thy nimble Soul Had travell'd Heaven and oft ran round the Pole Pursu'd the motions of the rowling Light When Death came on and spread a gloomy Night Wise Tantalus the guest of Gods is dead And on strange wings the chang'd Tithonus fled Jove's Friend just Minos hath resign'd his Breath And Wise Pythagoras felt a second Death Althô his Trojan Shield and former State Did prove his Soul above the force of Fate Withdrew the Mind from Death's black conquering hand And left but Skin and Bones at Fate 's Command In thy Opinion He did most excell Discover'd Truth and follow'd Nature well But once o're all long Night her shades will spread And all must walk the Valleys of the Dead Some Rage spurs on and Death attends in Wars The Sea destroys the greedy Marriners The Young and Old confus'd by Numbers fall And Death with equal hand doth strike at all A boysterous Storm my feeble tackling tore And lest one naked on th' Illyrian shore But Seaman pray be just put near the Land Bestow a Grave and hide my Limbs in Sand So may the threat'ning East winds spare the Floods And idely spend their Rage on Hills and Woods Whilst you ride safely so from every Shore May Gain flow in and feed thy growing Store May Jove and Neptune soft Tarentum's Guard Conspire to Bless and joyn in one Reward Perhaps you scorn and are design'dly base Thy Crime shall Dam thy undeserving Race Thy Pride vain Man shall on thy self return Thou naked lie and be the Publick scorn My Prayers shall mount and pull just Vengeance down No Offerings shall release now Vows attone Thô hasty now driven by a prosperous gale 'T is quickly done thrice strew the sand and sail ODE XXIX To ICCIUS A Philosopher who had left his study and was resolv'd to go to War YOu envy Iccius the Arabian's store Their pretious Gums and Ivory beds And art resolv'd for War For fierce Sabean Kings ne're fought before And dreadful Medes Your scourges knit and Roman Chains prepare What lovely Virgin when her Lover's kill'd Shall wait on Thee and call Thee Lord What perfum'd Royal Boy To shoot in 's Fathers Bow exactly skill'd Attend thy board And serve Thy pleasure in another joy Who now dares say that streams must flow From Mountains tops to Vales below And not to th' Springs return Or who deny but Tyber's wondrous stream May Hills contemn And swiftly roul back to his lofty Urn When You can change for Shield and Sword and Dart And the base Drudgery of Wars VVhat e're contentment brings Panoetus VVorks thy costly Books of Art And Plato's cares Tho once I 'me sure You promis'd better things ODE XXX He begs Venus to come to the Temple which his Glycera had prepar'd KInd Venus leave the Paphian Isle And live with Glycera a while A noble Temple she prepares VVith Incense sweet thine Altars smoak Thy presence numerous Vows invoak She calls Thee with a thousand Prayers The Graces with their Zones unloos'd The Nymphs their beauties all expos'd From every Spring and every Plain Thy powerful hot and winged Boy And Youth that 's dull without thy joy And Mercury compose thy Train ODE XXXI The Poet's Wish VVHat will the Poet beg to day From Phoebus in his hallow'd Shrine For what doth He design to Pray Whil'st thus He pours his Holy Wine Not fat Sardinia's fruitful Crops Nor Flocks that hot Calabria feeds Nor Gold nor Ivory raise his Hopes Those toys He neither loves nor needs Not those rich Fields where Lyris runs With quiet Streams and wanton play The smoothest of the Ocean's Sons And gently eats his easie way Let him that Has one Prune his Vine The Merchant now come safe to Land In golden Gobblets quaff the Wine His Syrian Wares and Voyage gain'd He chiefest Darling of the Gods For twice a year He plows the Main He rides the Proud Atlantick Floods And yet makes safe returns again Me Chicory and Olives feed Me loos'ning Mallows nobly feast They give what Nature's wants can need And kindly fill the easie Guest A Mind to use my present Store With Health and Life but not so long As brings Contempt or cramps my Song Grant this Apollo and I ask no more ODE XXXII To his Harp whose assistance he desires IF underneath a Myrtle shade When free from Business I have play'd What may this year and more command Begin sweet Harp a Roman strain Those Measures and those Tunes maintain First struck by great Alcerus noble Hand He fierce in Arms yet mid'st his Cares When Dangers press't and noisy Wars And stain'd his charming Harp with Blood Or when He stem'd the angry Seas Or when arriv'd He sate at ease And laught at all the Fury of the Flood The Muses He in sounding Verse Would Sing and Venus Praise reherse With her attending wanton Boy Or Lyco's Face surprizing fair With lovely Eyes and Auborn Hair By Nature fitted to entice to Joy Great Phoebus Glory Phoebus Love And welcome to the Feasts of Jove Thou great Reliever of my Care When e're I beg thy Aid attend Assist the Verses of thy Friend And tune my Songs for Mighty Caesar's Ear. ODE XXXIII He Comforts his Friend who had ill success in his Amours COme dry thine Eys and cease to mourn Think not too much on Glycera's scorn Let no complaining Songs proclaim That she regardless of her Vows Her wanton smiles bestows Upon a later and a meaner flame Lycoris fair for Cyrus burns She loves but meets no kind returns Ill-natur'd Pholöe Cyrus Charms But sooner shall the Lambs agree With cruel VVolves than she Shall take so base a Wanton in her Arms. Thus Venus sports the Rich the Base Unlike in Fortune and in Face To disagreeing Love provokes VVhen cruelly
glory nor to please the Age Nor get the Bays nor often tread the Stage True Comedy Fondanus only writes Pollio the Acts of Kings and Noble Fights Strong Epic-Poems Varius best can raise And Virgil's happy Muse in Eclogues plays Facetious soft and justly wins the Bays In Satyrs I which Varro try'd in vain And others too may have a happy strain Yet than Lucillius less I freely own I would not strive to blast his just renown He wears and best deserves to wear the Crown Ay but I said his fancy muddy flow'd And faulty Lines did oft exceed the good Well Sir and is e'en Homer all correct Is He Sir Critic free from all defect Doth not Lucillius Accius Rhimes accuse And blame our Ennius's correcter Muse For too much lightness oft his Rhimes deride And when He talks of his own Verse for Pride Then what 's the Reason that his friend repines That when I read Lucilius looser lines I try if 't is his Subject won't permit More even Verse or if 't is want of Wit But now if any is content to chime And just put naked Words in Feet and Rhime And write two hundred Lines in two hours time As Cassius did that full o're-flowing Tide Of Wit and who was burnt or fame hath ly'd With Piles of his own Papers when he dy'd Well then suppose Lucilius was a Wit His Vertue 's more than Faults in what He writ Correcter than the Older Writers own And that we Satyr owe to him alone Satyr a Poem to the Greeks unknown Yet did He now again new life Commence He would correct he would retrench his Sense And pare off all that was not Excellence Take pains and often when he Verses made Would bite his Nails toth quick and scratch his Head When you design a lasting Piece be wise Amend Correct again again Revise Ne're seek the Crowd's unthinking praise delight 4. ' That few and Judges read the Verse you write Is 't thy Ambition mean unthinking Fool To be a Classick thumb'd in every School That 's not my wish for 't is enough for me As hist Arbuscula was wont to say Well well hiss on for since I please the best And those approve me well I scorn the rest Why should I vex to hear Pontitius blame My Poems or Demetrius carp my Fame Or hungry Fannius at Tigellius Treat Disgrace my Verse to get a little Meat Let Plotius Varius and Mecoenas love Let Caesar Virgil Valgius all approve What I compose to these would I could joyn The Visci and Messala's Learned Line And Pollio and some other Friends of mine Whom I for modesty forbear to name My good acquaintance all and Men of Fame Commend my Lines and I should grieve to know They do not please Them as I hope they do I scorn Tigellius and Demetrius noise Dull Block-heads let them Pipe among their Boys And mind their Schools Go Roger quickly run Put this into my Book and I have done The End of the first Book of Satyrs SATYRS BOOK II. The Heads of the first Satyr 1. He adviseth with his Friend what He shall write 2. He concludes that his humour is for Satyr 3. Will hurt none unprovok't 4. No good Men have reason to be angry at Satyrists 1. SOme Fancy I am bitter when I jeer Beyond the Rules of Satyr too severe Some that my Verse is dull and flat and say A Man may write a Thousand such a day What shall I do Trebatius Why give o're Thy scribling humor check and write no more The Counsel's good and oh that I could choose But I can't sleep for my unruly Muse Why then for that will lay a rambling Head Go always tir'd or else go drunk to Bed Of if you needs must write go raise thy Fame By Caesar 's Wars for that 's a noble Theme And that will get Thee Wealth and an Esteem I have the Will but when I strive to fly My Wing's too weak nor can I rise so high For 't is not every one can paint a War How Iron Armies dreadful gay appear The Galli falling by a braver force Or wounded Parthians tumbling from their Horse Yet Thou for such the wise Lucilius show'd Great Scipio may'st describe him just and good Well when Occasion serves my Muse designs To try that way but my unpolish't lines Unless by chance a happy Time appears Will never pass the judging Caesar's Ears Whom if you try to stroak He 's free from Pride And kicks you off secure on every side And this is better than with railing Rhymes To lash the faults and follies of the Times Since all think they are hit and all resent And hate Thee tho perhaps They are not meant 2. What shall I do As most Men have their humours I have mine Milonius Dances when He 's full of Wine Pollux on Foot on Horse-back Castor fights As many Men so many their delights I love to Rhyme and have a railing Wit And choose the way that wise Lucilius writ He did to 's Book as to a Trusty Friend His secret Vertues and his Faults Commend And when a good or faulty deed was done He trusted them with that and them alone And hence his Books do all his Life explain As if we saw him live it o're again This Man I imitate but what I am Faith I can't tell nor know from whence I came For whether I my Birth t' Appulia owe Or to Lucania faith 't is hard to know Since we Venusians live between these two Plac't here as Tales of Ancient Fame relate When the Sabelli bow'd to stronger Fate On this side to secure the Roman State Lest fierce Appulian or Lucanian Arms Should take them unprovided for Alarms 3. But yet this Pen of mine shall never wound If unprovok't yet still I 'le keep my ground Ready for all assaults make this my guard And stand on my defence be still prepar'd As with a Sword yet sheath'd and never draw Unless assaulted to keep Rogues in Awe Grant bounteous Heaven Oh grant me welcome Peace Oh grant this Sword of mine might rust in ease Let none hurt Peaceful Me with envious Tongue For if he does He shall repent the wrong The warning's fair his Vices shall be shown And Life expos'd to all the Cens'ring Town Affronted Cervius threatens Suits of Law Canidia Charms to keep her Foes in Awe And Praetor Turius when he bears a grudge If Thou shalt plead a Cause when He is Judge Each fights with that with which he can prevail And powerful Nature thus instructs us all The Wolves with Teeth with Horns the Bulls begin And whence but from a secret Guide within Let Scoeva have for this he counts a wrong A Mother that He thinks will live too long His pious Hand shall never wound her Heart No wonder this 't is not his proper Art A Wolf ne're kicks with Teeth a Bull ne're kills But she shall take a Dose of poison'd Pills In short then whether I live
design Will clap with both his hands and favor thine But to advise you if you want advice Take heed of whom you speak and what it is Take heed to whom avoid the busy Men Fly the inquisitive they 'l talk agen And tell what you have said a leaky Ear Can never hold what it shall chance to hear 'T will run all out and what you once let fall It flys and t is impossible to recall If thy great friend keeps handsom Maid or Boy Be not in Love and eager to enjoy Lest He bestow that little gift to please Or else deny and highten thy disease Praise none till well approv'd on sober thoughts Lest after you should blush for others faults You prais'd a Rascal there you chanc't to err Then don't defend him when his Crimes appear But one approv'd when Scandals press defend Let him on Thee and on thy Fame depend Whom envy bites for thou may'st plainly see The danger will at last come o're to Thee For your'e in danger when the Next's on fire And Flames neglected often blaze the higher To Court the Great-ones and to sooth their Pride Seems a sweet task to those that never try'd But those that have know well that danger 's near It is a ticklish point and mixt with fear Do you endeavour whilst you cut the Main That no cross Storm should toss Thee back again The Active hate the Dull the Sad Jocose The Dull the Active Merry the Morose Stout Jolly Topers scorn the Sober Ass They hate those fellows that refuse their Glass Altho they beg altho they swear they dread The nightly fumes fur'd mouth and aching head Put off all Clouds and Darkness from thy brow Be Jolly Gay and Mirth and Humour show For modest Men are oft thought cloudy Souls And Men of little talk ill natur'd Fools In every state of Life besure of this Read o're thy moral Books consult the wise How thou may'st live how spend thine Age in Peace Lest fierce desire still poor disturb thine Ease Or Fears should shake or Cares thy Mind abuse Or ardent hope for things of little use If Arts do Vertue breed or Nature send What lessens Cares what makes thy self thy Friend What calms Thee Honor or admired Wealth Or close retirement and a life by stealth When I my Friend do go to take repose At cold Medela where Degentia flows Medela my belov'd but little Town With Cold and Frost all gray and wrinkled grown For what do you imagine that I care What think what make the subject of my prayer Let me have what I have or somewhat less 'T will still be great enough for happiness And that I may if Heaven more years will give Live to my self the time I have to live Estate in Books and Food to serve a year Lest I should wavering hang 'twixt hope and fear And this is all for which Mankind should pray And beg of Jove who gives and takes away Let him but Life and moderate Plenty find And I 'le provide my self an happy mind EPISTLE XIX TO MECAENAS 1. Of Poetry 2. His own Excellencies 3. Why not lik'd 1. MY Lord if what Cratinus says be right Those Verses cannot live those Lines delight Which Water drinkers Pen in vain they Write For e're since Bacchus did in wild design With Fauns and Satyrs half-mad Poets joyn The Muses every morning smelt of Wine From Homer's praise his love of Wine appears And Ennius never dar'd to write of Wars Till heated well let sober dotards choose The Plodding Law but never tempt a Muse This Law once made the Poets streight begin They drunk all night all day they stunk of Wine Suppose a Man the coursest Gown should wear No Shoes his Forehead rough his look severe And Ape great Cato in his Form and Dress Must He his Vertues and his Mind express Whilst dull Hyarbit wish't and vainly strove To speak as smoothly and as aptly move As sweet Timagenes and reach his Arts He overstrain'd himself and broak his Parts Examples Vice can imitate deceive Should I by Chance or a Disease be pale The Sots would drink their bloodless Cummin all Base Imitators Slaves to others Wills How oft you move my frowns how oft my smiles 2. I trod new paths to others feet unknown He that first ventures leads the others on I first the Romans keen Iambicks taught In numerous smoothness and in hight of thought I match't Archilocus I show'd the Age His numbers but forbore his murdering rage But lest you say that I fall short of fame Because my Number 's his my Verse the same The Saphick sweetens all his bitter vain And grave Alcaick smooths his rougher strain The subject's different different the Designs And tho thro all a vertuous freedom shines With no black Lines he daubs no envious breath Doth soil Mens same or Rhyme a Spouse to death This Verse ne're heard by Latine Ears before I first discover'd from the Grecian store And this delights me now that I am known And read for these inventions of my own 3. Now would you know why our ungrateful Rome Doth praise my Poems when with me at home But flout abroad I 'le freely tell the Cause I do not beg the empty Crowd's Applause I do not often treat nor do I send My old cast Suits and bribe them to commend I do not crowd to hear our Fops rehearse Nor do I praise and clap our Nobles Verse I cannot run to every Pedant Fool And beg that He would read my Book in 's School Hence springs my Wo now if I say I fear To bring dull Lines t' a crowded Theatre And vaunt my Trifles streight You jeer you cry And keep your Verse alone for Caesar 's Eye And proud you think that you alone can write Sweet hony lines fine in thy own conceit A tart reply to this I fear to give Lest his sharp Nails should scratch me whilst I strive I do not like the place I freely say Forbear a while let 's take another day For Jest dislike Dislike Contention bears Contention Hate and Hate breeds dreadful Wars THE CONCLUSION To his BOOK I Know you long to visit every Stall You would be neatly bound and set to Sale The bars that please the modest trouble you And you Commend and Court the publick view And mourn that you are hid and seen by few Go to the publick then go where you strive Tho thou wert not bred thus or taught to live There shall be no return when once thour' t gone And thou wilt cry Ah me What have I done What have I beg'd When one shall call thee dull And squeeze Thee when his Belly 's quickly full But now unless fond rage besots my mind Unless meer hatred to thy faults does blind I Prophesie and I am sure 't is true You shall be lik'd and prais'd at Rome whilst new But when thou shalt be soil'd by every hand Then slighted and to common use prophan'd To bind up