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النشر الإلكتروني

“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!"

As one uncitizen'd-men said
a. He put his wife's pure kiss away,

His little children; and did lay
Stern in the dust his manly head :

Till those unequalled words had lent

Strength to the faltering sires of Rome;

Then from his sorrowstricken 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:

He might be hastening on his way,

A lawyer freed from business—down

To green Venafrum, or a town Of Sparta, for a holiday.

ODE 6.

Thou 'lt rue thy fathers' sins, not thine,

Till built the temples be, replaced

The statues, foul and smoke-defaced, Roman,—and reared each tottering shrine.

Thou rul'st but under heaven's hand.

Thence all beginnings come, all ends.

Neglected, mark what woes it sends On this our miserable land.

Twice Pacorus and Monæses foiled

Our luckless onset : huge their glee,

When to their necklaces they see Hanging the wealth of Rome despoiled.

Dacian and Æthiop nigh laid low
: Our state, with civil feuds o’errun;

One with his fleet dismayed her, one Smote her with arrows from his bow.

A guilty age polluted first

Our beds, hearths, families : from that source

Derived, the foul stream, gathering force, O'er the broad land, a torrent, burst.

Pleased, now, the maiden learns to move . To soft Greek airs : already knows

Fresh from the nursery-how to pose Her graceful limbs; and dreams of love:

Next, while her lord drinks deep, invites

Her gallants in: nor singles one,

Into whose guilty arms to run, Stealthy and swift, when dim the lights:

No! in her lord's sight up springs she:

Alike at some small tradesman's beck,

As his who walks a Spanish deck And barters wealth for infamy.

- Were those lads of such parents bred

Who dyed the seas with Punic blood ?

Pyrrhus, Antiochus withstood, And Hannibal, the nation's dread?

Rude soldiers' sons, a rugged kind,

They brake the soil with Sabine spade :

Or shouldered stakes their axe had made To a right rigorous mother's mind,

What time the shadows of the rocks

Change, as the sun's departing car

Sends on the hours that sweetest are, And men unyoke the wearied ox.

Time mars not-what? A spoiler he.

Our sires were not so brave a breed

As their sires : we, a worse, succeed; To raise up sons more base than we.

ODE 13.

TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA.

BANDUSIA, stainless mirror of the sky!
Thine is the flower-crown'd bowl, for thee shall die,

When dawns yon sun, the kid;
Whose horns, half-seen, half-hid,

Challenge to dalliance or to strife-in vain !
Soon must the firstling of the wild herd be slain,

And those cold springs of thine
With blood incarnadine.

Fierce glows the Dogstar, but his fiery beam
Toucheth not thee : still grateful thy cool stream

To labour-wearied ox,
Or wanderer from the flocks :

And henceforth thou shalt be a royal fountain :
My harp shall tell how from yon cavernous mountain,

Where the brown oak grows tallest,
All babblingly thou fallest.

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