قراءة كتاب Echoes from the Sabine Farm

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‏اللغة: English

Echoes from the Sabine Farm

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المؤلف:

Horace

دار النشر: Project Gutenberg

الصفحة رقم: 4

href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@13885@[email protected]#THE_ROASTING_OF_LYDIA" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">THE ROASTING OF LYDIA.

Odes, I. 25 R.M.F. TO GLYCERA. Odes, I. 19 R.M.F. TO LYDIA. I. Odes, I. 13 E.F. TO LYDIA. II.
R.M.F. TO QUINTIUS HIRPINUS. Odes, II. 11 E.F. WINE, WOMEN, AND SONG. Odes, I. 18 E.F. AN ODE TO FORTUNE. Odes, I. 35 E.F. TO A JAR OF WINE. Odes, III. 21 E.F. TO POMPEIUS VARUS. Odes, II. 1 E.F. THE POET'S METAMORPHOSIS. Odes, II. 20 E.F. TO VENUS. Odes, I. 30 E.F. IN THE SPRINGTIME. I. Odes, I. 4 E.F. IN THE SPRINGTIME. II.
R.M.F. TO A BULLY. Epode VI. E.F. TO MOTHER VENUS.

TO LYDIA. Odes, I. 8 E.F. TO NEOBULE. Odes, III. 12 R.M.F. AT THE BALL GAME. Odes, V. 17. R.M.F. EPILOGUE.
E.F.

Echoes from the Sabine Farm

AN INVITATION TO MÆCENAS

Dear, noble friend! a virgin cask
Of wine solicits your attention;
And roses fair, to deck your hair,
And things too numerous to mention.
So tear yourself awhile away
From urban turmoil, pride, and splendor,
And deign to share what humble fare
And sumptuous fellowship I tender.
The sweet content retirement brings
Smoothes out the ruffled front of kings.

The evil planets have combined
To make the weather hot and hotter;
By parboiled streams the shepherd dreams
Vainly of ice-cream soda-water.
And meanwhile you, defying heat,
With patriotic ardor ponder
On what old Rome essays at home,
And what her heathen do out yonder.
Mæcenas, no such vain alarm
Disturbs the quiet of this farm!

God in His providence obscures
The goal beyond this vale of sorrow,
And smiles at men in pity when
They seek to penetrate the morrow.
With faith that all is for the best,
Let's bear what burdens are presented,
That we shall say, let come what may,
"We die, as we have lived, contented!
Ours is to-day; God's is the rest,—
He doth ordain who knoweth best."

Dame Fortune plays me many a prank.
When she is kind, oh, how I go it!
But if again she's harsh,—why, then
I am a very proper poet!
When favoring gales bring in my ships,
I hie to Rome and live in clover;
Elsewise I steer my skiff out here,
And anchor till the storm blows over.
Compulsory virtue is the charm
Of life upon the Sabine farm!

CHLORIS PROPERLY REBUKED

Chloris, my friend, I pray you your misconduct to forswear;
The wife of poor old Ibycus should have more savoir faire.
A woman at your time of life, and drawing near death's door,
Should not play with the girly girls, and think she's en rapport.

What's good enough for Pholoe you cannot well essay;
Your daughter very properly courts the jeunesse dorée,—
A Thyiad, who, when timbrel beats, cannot her joy restrain,
But plays the kid, and laughs and giggles à l'Américaine.

'T is more

قراءة كتاب Echoes from the Sabine Farm