Odes by Horace

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THE ODES AND CARMEN SAECULARE OF HORACE

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LYDIA, DIC PER OMNES.


Lydia, by all above,

Why
bear so hard on Sybaris, to ruin him with love? What change has made him shun
The
playing-ground, who once so well could bear the dust and sun? Why does he never sit

On horseback in his company, nor with uneven bit

His Gallic courser tame?

Why
dreads he yellow Tiber, as 'twould sully that fair frame? Like poison loathes the oil,
His
arms no longer black and blue with honourable toil, He who erewhile was known
For
quoit or javelin oft and oft beyond the limit thrown? Why skulks he, as they say
Did
Thetis' son before the dawn of Ilion's fatal day, For fear the manly dress

Should fling him into danger's arms, amid the Lycian press?





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