XVI.

THE POWER OF GOLD.

Fair Danae once lofty walls,

Strong doors and watchful hounds, Had guarded, and to midnight calls From lovers bold set bounds.

But Jove and Venus did not fear
The keeper of the hold;

They laughed and knew the way was clear,
The god once changed to gold.

Gold through the midst of guards will go, And rocks to pieces break

Easier than even lightning's blow—

'Twas all for lucre's sake

The Argive augur's palace fell;

So Philip towns o'erthrew;

His bribes o'ercame great kings as well; Stern captains bribes subdue.

With money cares increase; we sigh
For more. I rightly dread,
Mæcenas, knighthood's pride, on high

To lift my humble head.

The less we seek, the more we'll take
From heaven; all bare of ought,
I quit the rich man's ranks and make
Their camp who covet nought.

And thus I live a richer lord,

Than if within my door

Apulia's fertile grain were stored,
Amid abundance poor.

Pure streams and modest woods I own,

And crops that never fail;

Not he who shines on Afric's throne
Can greater blessings hail.

Calabrian bees may not be mine,
Nor can I play the host

With mellow wine; no pastures fine
To fatten flocks I boast.

But still from poverty I'm free,
Nor if I wanted aid

Would you refuse to give it me;
And thus I'm richer made,

By limiting my small demands,
Than if to swell my hoard

I joined the wealth of Phrygian lands
To that of Lydia's lord.

The greedy never gain their ends,
They're always seeking more;

But blest is he to whom heaven sends
Small but sufficient store.

XVII.

TO ELIUS LAMIA.

O spring from Lamus, chief of fame,

(So annalists agree

The Lamian race derived their name,
And all their progeny)

Ælius, your origin he gave

Who first of yore, they say,

O'er Formia's walls and streams that lave
Marica's banks held sway.

To-morrow storms will burst and pour
Upon the ground the leaves,
And strew the sea-weed on the shore,
Unless the crow deceives,

That croaks of rain; so, while you may,
Let wood and fire combine;
To-morrow make a holiday

And on a porker dine.

XVIII.

TO FAUNUS.

O lover of the Nymphs that fly,
Dear Faunus, gently tread
My fields, and part propitiously

From all the young they've bred.

So shall a tender kid be thine,
When once the year is o'er,

And cups, by Venus loved, of wine,
And altars rich with gore.

Soon as returns thy day, the flocks

In grassy meadows play;
The peasant idles with the ox,

And keeps a holiday.

The wolf strays 'mid the fearless sheep,
The woods shed leaves around,
The ditcher joys to dance and leap
Upon the stubborn ground.

XIX.

TO TELEPHUS.

You tell us how Codrus the patriot can trace
Up to Inachus old his descent;

You tell us long stories of Æacus' race

And the wars sacred Troy underwent.

But as to the price of a cask of good wine,

Or how we its strength can allay,

When this cold will depart, at whose house we shall dine— On these topics you've nothing to say.

Then fill up, my boy, to the Moon new and bright,

To Midnight we'll wet, too, our throttles,

And Augur Muræna; so mix, as is right,
With three or nine glasses the bottles.

For the bard who devotes to nine Muses his life,
Nine bumpers his portion shall be ;

The Graces, aye fearful of quarrels and strife,
Forbid you to touch more than three.

I'm all for a revel; my breast to inspire,
Why ceases the Phrygian flute

Its strains so delightful, and why is the lyre
In silence hung up with the lute?

I hate all your niggardly handfuls—so, boys,
Your roses abundantly strew;

Let old Lycus, the envious, list to our noise,
And she whom he lives with, that shrew.

O Telephus, famed for thick locks on your brow, And fair as the even star shining,

You're wooed by ripe Chloe, while I alas! now For Glycera's beauty am pining.

XX.

TO PYRRHUS.

Pyrrhus, how rash a deed you dare!

To storm a lioness's lair!

You'll soon seek safety from the fight,

A timorous ravisher in flight.

When, though a crowd of youths oppose,

The girl to meet her darling goes,
How great the struggle which shall gain

The favour of that lucky swain.