Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Book, brave, And such wild tricks "as gentlemen should have!" My feast, to-day, shall other joys afford: Hushed as we sit around the frugal board. Great Homer shall his deep-toned thunder roll, 270 And mighty Maro elevate the soul; Maro, who, warmed with all the poet's fire, Disputes the palm of victory with his sire: Nor fear my rustic clerks; read as they will, The bard, the bard, shall rise superior still! 275 Come then, my friend, an hour to pleasure spare, And quit awhile your business and your care; The day is all our own: come, and forget Bonds, interest, all; the credit and the debt; Nay, e'en your wife: though, with the dawning light, 280 She left your couch, and late returned at night; Though her loose hair in wild disorder flowed, Her eye yet glistened, and her cheek yet glowed, Her rumpled girdle busy hands express'd-- Yet, at my threshold, tranquilize your breast; 285 There leave the thoughts of home, and what the haste Of heedless slaves may in your absence waste; And, what the generous spirit most offends, O, more than all, leave there UNGRATEFUL FRIENDS. But see! the napkin, waved aloft, proclaims 290 The glad commencement of the Idæan games, And the proud prætor, in triumphal state, Ascends his car, the arbiter of fate! Ere this, all Rome (if 'tis, for once, allowed, To say all Rome, of so immense a crowd) 295 The Circus throngs, and--Hark! loud shouts arise-- From these, I guess the GREEN has won the prize; For had it lost, all joy had been suppress'd, And grief and horror seized the public breast; As when dire Carthage forced our arms to yield, 300 And poured our noblest blood on Cannæ's field. Thither let youth, whom it befits, repair, And seat themselves beside some favorite fair, Wrangle, and urge the desperate bet aloud; While we, retired from business and the crowd, 305 Stretch our shrunk limbs by sunny bank or stream, And drink, at every pore, the vernal beam. Haste, then: for we may use our freedom now, And bathe, an hour ere noon, with fearless brow-- Indulge for once:--Yet such delights as these, 310 In five short morns, would lose the power to please; For still, the sweetest pleasures soonest cloy, And its best flavor temperance gives to joy. SATIRE XII. TO CORVINUS. Not with such joy, Corvinus, I survey My natal hour, as this auspicious day; This day, on which the festive turf demands The promised victims, at my willing hands. A snow-white lamb to Juno I decree, 5 Another to Minerva; and to thee, Tarpeian Jove! a steer, which, from afar, Shakes his long rope, and meditates the war. 'Tis a fierce animal, that proudly scorns The dug, since first he tried his budding horns 10 Against an oak; free mettled, and, in fine, Fit for the knife, and sacrificial wine. O, were my power but equal to my love, A nobler victim should my rapture prove! A bull high fed, and boasting in his veins, 15 The luscious juices of Clitumnus' plains, Fatter than fat Hispulla, huge and slow, Should fall, but fall beneath no common blow-- Fall for my friend, who now, from danger free, Revolves the recent perils of the sea; 20 Shrinks at the roaring waves, the howling winds, And scarcely trusts the safety which he finds! For not the gods' inevitable fire, The surging billows that to heaven aspire, Alone, perdition threat; black clouds arise, 25 And blot out all the splendor of the skies; Loud and more loud the thunder's voice is heard, And sulphurous fires flash dreadful on the yard.-- Trembled the crew, and, fixed in wild amaze, Saw the rent sails burst into sudden blaze; 30 While shipwreck, late so dreadful, now appeared A refuge from the flames, more wished than feared. Horror on horror! earth, and sea, and skies, Convulsed, as when POETIC TEMPESTS rise! From the same source another danger view, 35 With pitying eye--though dire alas! not new; But known too well, as Isis' temples show, By many a pictured scene of votive woe; Isis, by whom the painters now are fed, Since our own gods no longer yield them bread!-- 40 And such befell our friend: for now a sea, Upsurging, poured tremendous o'er the lee, And filled the hold; while, pressed by wave and wind, To right and left, by turns, the ship inclined: Then, while Catullus viewed, with drooping heart, 45 The storm prevailing o'er the pilot's art, He wisely hastened to compound the strife, And gave his treasure to preserve his life. The beaver thus to scape his hunter tries, And leaves behind the medicated prize; 50 Happy to purchase with his dearest blood, A timely refuge in the well-known flood. "Away with all that's mine," he cries, "away!" And plunges in the deep, without delay, Purples, which soft Mæcenases might wear, 55 Crimsons, deep-tinctured in the Bætic air, Where herbs, and springs of secret virtues, stain The flocks at feed, with Nature's richest grain. With these, neat baskets from the Britons bought, Rare silver chargers by Parthenius wrought, 60 A huge two-handed goblet, which might strain A Pholus, or a Fuscus' wife, to drain; Followed by numerous services of plate, Plain, and enchased; with cups of ancient date, In which, while at the city's strength he laughed, 65 The wily chapman of Olynthus quaffed. Yet show me, in this elemental strife, Another, who would barter wealth for life!-- Few GAIN TO LIVE, Corvinus, few or none, But, blind with avarice, LIVE TO GAIN alone. 70 Now had the deep devoured their richest store; Nor seems their safety nearer than before: The last resource alone was unexplored-- To cut the mast and rigging by the board; Haply the vessel so might steadier ride 75 O'er the vexed surface of the raging tide. Dire threats the impending blow, when, thus distress'd, We sacrifice a part, to save the rest! Go now, fond man, the faithless ocean brave, Commit your fortune to the wind and wave; 80 Trust to a plank, and draw precarious breath, At most, seven inches from the jaws of death! Go, but forget not that a storm may rise, And put up hatchets with your sea supplies. But now the winds were hushed; the wearied main 85 Sunk to repose, a calm, unruffled plain; For fate, superior to the tempest's power, Averted from my friend the mortal hour: A whiter thread the cheerful Sisters spun, And lo, with favoring hands their spindles run! 90 Mild as the breeze of eve, a rising gale Rippled the wave, and filled their only sail; Others the crew supplied, of vests combined, And spread to catch each vagrant breath of wind: By aids like these, slow o'er the deep impelled, 95 The shattered bark her course for Ostia held; While the glad sun uprose, supremely bright, And hope returned with the returning light. At length the heights, where, from Lavinum moved, Iülus built the city which he loved, 100 Burst on the view; auspicious heights! whose name From a white sow and thirty sucklings came. And now, the port they gain; the tower, whose ray Guides the poo |