VI.

TO SEPTIMIUS.

Dear friend, who would gladly, I know,
To Gades or anywhere else with me go,
To Syrtes, whose wave 's ever boiling away,
Or where the Cantabrians mock at our sway.

May I spend my old age on the shore
Of Tibur, by colonists planted of yore ;
O there let me end all my wand'rings by sea,
My travels on land, and from warfare be free.

But, ah! should the Fates be unkind
And drive me away a fresh haven to find,

To the sheep-feeding streams of Galesus I'll stray,
And the realms that the will of Phalanthus obey.

No corner of earth is so dear,

Of all pleasant spots in my choice, far and near,
As that where the honey by all is confest
Hymettian, and olives contend with the best.

Where winter is genial and fair,

And springtime lasts long, thanks to Jupiter's care; Where Aulon, by Bacchus beloved, stands bestowing Such grapes that we envy no vine elsewhere growing.

'Tis there you and I shall be blest,

And far from all care find a harbour of rest;
'Tis there you'll accord me the meed of a tear,
When you see your poetical friend on his bier.

VII.

TO POMPEIUS VARUS.

O thou who perils dread of war
Hast often shared with me,
When Brutus led to fight his men,
Who brings back such a citizen
To home and Italy?

O Pompey, earliest of my friends!
With whom I laughed away
In wassail glad, my hair and head
With Syrian unguents garlanded,
The loitering hours of day.

With thee I trod Philippi's field,

In flight I safety found,

And, ah! behind me left my shield,
When valour's self began to yield
And boasters bit the ground.

But safe through foes kind Mercury
My trembling body bore
Aloft, while battle's stormy tide
Engulfed thee in its eddies wide

And swept anew to war.

So give to Jove the feast that's due,
And here beneath my tree,

All weary with the long campaign,

Place thy worn limbs, and don't refrain

From casks I've kept for thee.

Fill the smooth cups with Massic wine
Our troubles to allay;

Pour perfumes from large vases, too;
Who'll weave a parsley garland, who?
Or wreath of myrtle spray?

And whom toast-master at our feast

Will Venus care to choose?

A Bacchanalian I'll become !

'Tis sweet when friends return safe home

In joy oneself to lose.

VIII.

TO A COQUETTE.

Julia, if any penalty

Proclaimed thy broken vow,
Did it but dim that sparkling eye,
Or mar that lovely brow,

A sceptic part no more I'd play,
But own thou dost sincerely pray.

But when thou'st sworn by Yes and No,
And called Jove o'er and o'er,
Thy wondrous beauty dazzles so,
"Tis brighter than before;

And all our youths thy looks declare
The public pride, the public care.

It profits thee thy mother's grave
So recklessly to cite;

It profits thee of heaven to rave,
And silent stars of night;

And summon to support a lie

The immortal gods who dwell on high.

But Venus laughs at this, I know,
With her attendant train,
And cruel Cupid, with his bow,

Derides such oaths as vain

The god who ever whets his darts
For sharper entrance to our hearts.

Thy lovers still increase the more-
All, all must take the vow-
And larger bands of slaves before
The charming tyrant bow.
While many a long-discarded swain
Will swear to fly, and still remain.

Thee mothers see and fear the while,
Their heedless sons beside;

The griping dotard dreads thy smile,—
But most the new-made bride,

Who doubts, if once he meet thine eye, Her youthful husband's constancy.

IX.

TO VALGIUS.

Clouds do not always pour down rain

Upon the fields below,

Nor storms for ever vex the main

Where Caspian waters flow.

Armenia's coast ice does not bind,

Valgius, through all the year,

Nor oaks wage combat with the wind,
Nor ash-trees stripped appear.

Yet you for ever mourn the fate
Of Mystes, snatched away :
You sigh for him at even late,
And at the dawn of day.

But Nestor did not aye bedew
With tears his favourite's urn;
And parents ceased, and sisters too,
Young Troilus to mourn.

Then cease unmanly grief awhile,
And celebrate with me
Our mighty Cæsar's recent spoil,

And glorious victory.

Niphates, Medus-now their wave

Must roll a humbler tide

And checked by him must Scythians brave Within fixed limits ride.

X.

TO LICINIUS.

(Translated by Cowper.)

Receive, dear friend, the truths I teach,

So shalt thou live beyond the reach

Of adverse Fortune's power;

E