"I have a thousand thanks to give —
"My Lord alone knows how to live."
No fooner faid, but from the Hall
Rufh Chaplain, Butler, Dogs and all :
"A Rat, a Rat! clap to the door-
The Cat comes bouncing on the floor.
O for the heart of Homer's Mice,
Or Gods to fave them in a trice!
(It was by Providence they think,
For your damn'd Stucco has no chink.) ·

"An't please your Honour, quoth the Peafant,
"This fame Deffert is not fo pleasant:

"Give me again my hollow Tree, "A Cruft of Bread, and Liberty!

210

215

220

BOOK

LIBER IV.

OD E I.

I'

ADVENERE M.

NTERMISSA, Venus, diu

Rurfus bella moves? parce precor, precor.

Non fum qualis eram bonae

Sub regno Cynarae. define, dulcium

Mater faeva Cupidinum,

Circa luftra decem flectere mollibus

Jam durum imperiis: abi

Quo blandae juvenum te revocant preces.

Tempeftivius in domum

Paulli, purpureis ales oloribus, Comiffabere Maximi;

Si torrere jecur quaeris idoneum.
Namque et nobilis, et decens,

Et pro folicitis non tacitus reis,
Et centum puer artium,
Late figna feret militiae tuae.
Et, quandoque potentior
Largi muneribus riferit aemuli,

Albanos

воок

IV.

O DE I.

A

To VENU S.

GAIN? new Tumults in my breast?

Ah spare me, Venus! let me, let me reft! I am not now, alas! the man

As in the gentle Reign of My Queen Anne. Ah found no more thy foft alarms,

Nor circle fober fifty with thy Charms: Mother too fierce of dear Defires!

Turn, turn to willing hearts your wanton fires.

To Number five direct your Doves,

There spread round MURRAY all your blooming
Loves;

Noble and young, who ftrikes the heart

With ev'ry sprightly, ev'ry decent part;

Equal, the injur'd to defend,

To charm the Mistress, or to fix the Friend.

He, with a hundred Arts refin'd,

Shall ftretch thy conquefts over half the kind:

To him each Rival fhall fubmit,

Make but his Riches equal to his Wit.

*This, and the unfinished imitation of the ninth Ode of the fourth Book which follows, fhew as happy a vein for the Odes of Horace as for the Epistles.

VOL. VI.

Then

Albanos prope te lacus

Ponet marmoream sub trabe citrea. Illic plurima naribus

Duces thura; lyræque et Berecynthiæ

Delectabere tibiæ

Mixtis carminibus, non fine fiftula.

Illic bis pueri die

Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum Laudantes, pede candido

In morem Salium ter quatient humum. Me nec femina, nec puer

Jam, nec fpes animi credula mutui, Nec certare juvat mero,

Nec vincire novis tempora floribus. Sed cur, heu! Ligurine, cur

Manat rara meas lacryma per genas?

Cur facunda

parum

decoro

Inter verba cadit lingua filentio ?

Nocturnis te ego fomniis

Jam captum teneo, jam volucrem fequor

Te per gramina Martii

Campi, te per aquas, dure, volubiles.

Then shall thy Form the Marble grace,

(Thy Grecian Form) and Chloe lend the Face: His House, embofom'd in the Grove,

Sacred to focial life and focial love, Shall glitter o'er the pendent green,

Where Thames reflects the vifionary scene: Thither, the filver-founding lyres

Defires;

Shall call the smiling Loves, and young There, ev'ry Grace and Mufe fhall throng, Exalt the dance, or animate the fong; There Youths and Nymphs, in confort gay, Shall hail the rifing, close the parting day. With me, alas! those joys are o'er;

For me, the vernal garlands bloom no more. Adieu! fond hope of mutual fire,

The ftill believing, ftill-renew'd defire; Adieu! the heart-expanding bowl,

And all the kind Deceivers of the foul! But why? ah tell me, ah too dear!

Steals down my cheek th' involuntary Tear? Why words fo flowing, thoughts fo free,

Stop, or turn nonfenfe, at one glance of thee?

Thee, dreft in Fancy's airy beam,

Abfent I follow thro' th' extended Dream; Now, now I feize, I clafp thy charms,

And now you burft (ah cruel!) from my arms;

And fwiftly fhoot along the Mall,

Or foftly glide by the Can. 1,

Now shown by Cynthia's filver ray,

And now, on rolling waters fnatch'd away.

Part