TO IBYCUS'S WIFE.

OD. ii. 15.

SPOUSE of penniless Ibycus,

Thus late, bring to a close all thy delinquencies,

All thy studious infamy:

Nearing swiftly the grave-(that not an early one)

Cease girls' sport to participate,

Blurring stars which were else cloudlessly brilliant.

What suits her who is beautiful

Suits not equally thee: rightly devastates

Thy fair daughter the homes of men,

Wild as Thyad, who wakes stirred by the kettle

drums.

Nothus' beauty constraining her,

Like some kid at his play, holds she her revelry :

Thy years stately Luceria's

Wools more fitly become-not din of harpsichords,

Not pink-petalled roseblossoms,

Not casks drained by an old lip to the sediment.

SORACTE.

OD. i. 9.

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.

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:

Leave to the Gods all else. When they

Have once bid rest the winds that war

Over the passionate seas, no more

Grey ash and cypress rock and sway.

Ask not what future suns shall bring,

Count to-day 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 pre-arranged;

Hear now the pretty laugh that tells

In what dim corner lurks thy love;

And snatch a bracelet or a glove

From wrist or hand that scarce rebels.

M

TO LEUCONÖE.

OD. i. 11.

SEEK not, for thou shalt not find it, what my

end, what thine shall be;

Ask not of Chaldæa's science what God wills,

Leuconöe:

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 To-morrow, catch the

blossom of To-day.