The Portable Roman Reader (Portable Library) (43 page)
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I:9 Vides ut alta
I:11 Tu ne quaesieris
I:22 Integer vitae
III:
5
Caelo tonantem
III:9 Donec gratus eram tibi
IV:7 Diffugere nives
Translated by Charles Stuart Calverley
One dazzling mass of solid snow
Soracte stands; the bent woods fret
Beneath their load; and, sharpest-set
With frost, the streams have ceased to flow.
Soracte stands; the bent woods fret
Beneath their load; and, sharpest-set
With frost, the streams have ceased to flow.
Pile on great faggots and break up
The ice: let influence more benign
Enter with four-years-treasured wine,
Fetched in the ponderous Sabine cup:
The ice: let influence more benign
Enter with four-years-treasured wine,
Fetched in the ponderous Sabine cup:
Leave to the gods all else. When they
Have once bid rest the winds that war
Over the passionate seas, no more
Gray ash and cypress rock and sway.
Have once bid rest the winds that war
Over the passionate seas, no more
Gray ash and cypress rock and sway.
Ask not what future suns shall bring.
Count today gain, whate‘er it chance
To be: nor, young man, scorn the dance,
Nor deem sweet Love an idle thing,
Count today gain, whate‘er it chance
To be: nor, young man, scorn the dance,
Nor deem sweet Love an idle thing,
Ere Time thy April youth hath changed
To sourness. Park and public walk
Attract thee now, and whispered talk
At twilight meetings prearranged;
Hear now the pretty laugh that tells
In what dim comer lurks thy love;
And snatch a bracelet or a glove
From wrist or hand that scarce rebels.
To sourness. Park and public walk
Attract thee now, and whispered talk
At twilight meetings prearranged;
Hear now the pretty laugh that tells
In what dim comer lurks thy love;
And snatch a bracelet or a glove
From wrist or hand that scarce rebels.
Translated by Charles Stuart Calverley
Ask not, for thou shalt not find it, what my end, what thine shall be;
Ask not of Chaldæa’s science what God wills, Leuconoë:
Better far, what comes, to bear it. Haply many a wintry blast
Waits thee still; and this, it may be, Jove ordains to be thy last,
Which flings now the flagging sea-wave on the obstinate sandstone reef.
Be thou wise: fill up the wine-cup, shortening, since the time is brief,
Hopes that reach into the future. While I speak, hath stol’n away
Jealous Time. Mistrust tomorrow, catch the blossom of today.
Translated by Samuel Johnson
The man, my friend, whose conscious heart
With virtue’s sacred ardour glows,
Nor taints with death th’ envenomed dart,
Nor needs the guard of Moorish bows:
Though Scythia’s icy cliffs he treads,
Or horrid Afric’s faithless sands;
Or where the fam’d Hydaspes spreads
His liquid wealth o‘er barbarous lands;
With virtue’s sacred ardour glows,
Nor taints with death th’ envenomed dart,
Nor needs the guard of Moorish bows:
Though Scythia’s icy cliffs he treads,
Or horrid Afric’s faithless sands;
Or where the fam’d Hydaspes spreads
His liquid wealth o‘er barbarous lands;
For while, by Chloë’s image charm‘d,
Too far in Sabine woods I stray’d,
Me, singing, careless, and unarm‘d,
A grisly wolf surpris’d and fled.
Too far in Sabine woods I stray’d,
Me, singing, careless, and unarm‘d,
A grisly wolf surpris’d and fled.
No savage more portentous stain’d
Apulia’s spacious wilds with gore;
None fiercer Juba’s thirsty land,
Dire nurse of raging lions, bore.
Apulia’s spacious wilds with gore;
None fiercer Juba’s thirsty land,
Dire nurse of raging lions, bore.
Place me where no soft summer gale
Among the quivering branches sighs,
Where clouds condens’d for ever veil
With horrid gloom the frowning skies;
Among the quivering branches sighs,
Where clouds condens’d for ever veil
With horrid gloom the frowning skies;
Place me beneath the burning line,
A clime denied to human race;
I’ll sing of Chloë’s charms divine,
Her heavenly voice, and beauteous face.
A clime denied to human race;
I’ll sing of Chloë’s charms divine,
Her heavenly voice, and beauteous face.
5
Caelo tonantem
Translated by Charles Stuart Calverley
Jove we call King, whose bolts rive heaven:
Then a god’s
presence
shall be felt
In Caesar, with whose power the Celt
And Parthian stout in vain have striven.
Then a god’s
presence
shall be felt
In Caesar, with whose power the Celt
And Parthian stout in vain have striven.
Could Crassus’ men wed alien wives,
And greet, as sons-in-law, the foe?
In the foes’ land (oh Romans, oh
Lost honour!) end, in shame, their lives,
And greet, as sons-in-law, the foe?
In the foes’ land (oh Romans, oh
Lost honour!) end, in shame, their lives,
‘Neath the Mede’s sway? They, Marsians and
Apulians—shields and rank and name
Forgot, and that undying flame—
And Jove still reign, and Rome still stand?
Apulians—shields and rank and name
Forgot, and that undying flame—
And Jove still reign, and Rome still stand?
This thing wise Regulus could presage:
He brooked not base conditions; he
Set not a precedent to be
The ruin of a coming age:
He brooked not base conditions; he
Set not a precedent to be
The ruin of a coming age:
“No,” cried he, “let the captives die,
Spare not. I saw Rome’s ensigns hung
In Punic shrines; with sabres, flung
Down by Rome’s sons ere blood shed. I
Spare not. I saw Rome’s ensigns hung
In Punic shrines; with sabres, flung
Down by Rome’s sons ere blood shed. I
“Saw our free citizens with hands
Fast pinioned; and, through portals now
Flung wide, our soldiers troop to plough,
As once they trooped to waste, the lands.
Fast pinioned; and, through portals now
Flung wide, our soldiers troop to plough,
As once they trooped to waste, the lands.
“‘Bought by our gold, our men will fight
But keener.’ What? To shame would you
Add loss? As wool, its natural hue
Once gone, may not be
painted
white;
But keener.’ What? To shame would you
Add loss? As wool, its natural hue
Once gone, may not be
painted
white;
“True Valour, from her seat once thrust,
Is not replaced by meaner wares.
Do stags, delivered from the snares,
Fight? Then shall
he
fight, who did trust
Is not replaced by meaner wares.
Do stags, delivered from the snares,
Fight? Then shall
he
fight, who did trust
“His life to foes who spoke a lie:
And
his
sword shatter Carthage yet,
Around whose arms the cords have met,
A sluggard soul, that feared to die!
And
his
sword shatter Carthage yet,
Around whose arms the cords have met,
A sluggard soul, that feared to die!
“Life, howe‘er bought, he treasured: he
Deemed war a thing of trade. Ah fie!—
Great art thou, Carthage—towerest high
O’er shamed and ruined Italy!”
Deemed war a thing of trade. Ah fie!—
Great art thou, Carthage—towerest high
O’er shamed and ruined Italy!”
As one uncitizen‘d—men said—
He puts his wife’s pure kiss away,
His little children; and did lay
Stem in the dust his manly head:
He puts his wife’s pure kiss away,
His little children; and did lay
Stem in the dust his manly head:
Till those unequalled words had lent
Strength to the faltering sires of Rome;
Then from his sorrow-stricken home
Went forth to glorious banishment.
Strength to the faltering sires of Rome;
Then from his sorrow-stricken home
Went forth to glorious banishment.
Yet knew he, what wild tortures lay
Before him: knowing, put aside
His kin, his countrymen—who tried
To bar his path, and bade him stay:
Before him: knowing, put aside
His kin, his countrymen—who tried
To bar his path, and bade him stay:
He might be hastening on his way,—
A lawyer freed from business—down
To green Venafrum, or a town
Of Sparta, for a holiday.
A lawyer freed from business—down
To green Venafrum, or a town
Of Sparta, for a holiday.
Translated by Robert Herrick
HORACEWhile, Lydia, I was loved of thee,
Nor any was preferred before me
To hug thy whitest neck: than I,
The Persian King lived not more happily.
LYDIANor any was preferred before me
To hug thy whitest neck: than I,
The Persian King lived not more happily.
While thou no other didst affect,
Nor Cloe was of more respect;
Then Lydia, far-famed Lydia,
I flourish’t more than Roman Ilia.
HORACENor Cloe was of more respect;
Then Lydia, far-famed Lydia,
I flourish’t more than Roman Ilia.
Now Thracian Cloe governs me,
Skillful with the Harpe, and Melodie:
For whose affection, Lydia, I
(So Fate spares her) am well content to die.
LYDIASkillful with the Harpe, and Melodie:
For whose affection, Lydia, I
(So Fate spares her) am well content to die.
My heart now set on fire is
By Ornithes sonne, young Calais;
For whose commutuall flames here I
(To save his life) twice am content to die.
HORACEBy Ornithes sonne, young Calais;
For whose commutuall flames here I
(To save his life) twice am content to die.
Say our first loves we showed revoke,
And severed, joyne in brazed yoke:
Admit I Cloe put away,
And love again love-cast-off Lydia?
LYDIAAnd severed, joyne in brazed yoke:
Admit I Cloe put away,
And love again love-cast-off Lydia?
Though mine be brighter than the Star;
Thou lighter than the Cork by far;
Rough as the Adratick sea, yet I
Will live with thee, or else for thee will die.
Thou lighter than the Cork by far;
Rough as the Adratick sea, yet I
Will live with thee, or else for thee will die.
Translated by A. E. Housman
The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws
And grasses in the mead renew their birth,
The river to the river-bed withdraws,
And altered is the fashion of the earth.
And grasses in the mead renew their birth,
The river to the river-bed withdraws,
And altered is the fashion of the earth.
The Nymphs and Graces three put off their fear
And unapparelled in the woodland play.
The swift hour and the brief prime of the year
Say to the soul,
Thou wast not bornfor aye.
And unapparelled in the woodland play.
The swift hour and the brief prime of the year
Say to the soul,
Thou wast not bornfor aye.
Thaw follows frost; hard on the heel of spring
Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers
Comes autumn, with his apples scattering;
Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs.
Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers
Comes autumn, with his apples scattering;
Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs.
But oh, whate‘er the sky-led seasons mar,
Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams:
Come
we
where Tullus and where Ancus are,
And good Æneas, we are dust and dreams.
Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams:
Come
we
where Tullus and where Ancus are,
And good Æneas, we are dust and dreams.
Torquatus, if the gods in heaven shall add
The morrow to the day, what tongue has told?
Feast then thy heart, for what thy heart has had
The fingers of no heir will ever hold.
The morrow to the day, what tongue has told?
Feast then thy heart, for what thy heart has had
The fingers of no heir will ever hold.
When thou descendest once the shades among,
The stem assize and equal judgment o‘er,
Not thy long lineage nor thy golden tongue,
No, nor thy righteousness, shall friend thee more.
The stem assize and equal judgment o‘er,
Not thy long lineage nor thy golden tongue,
No, nor thy righteousness, shall friend thee more.
Night holds Hippolytus the pure of stain,
Diana steads him nothing, he must stay;
And Theseus leaves Pirithoiis in the chain
The love of comrades cannot take away.
Diana steads him nothing, he must stay;
And Theseus leaves Pirithoiis in the chain
The love of comrades cannot take away.
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