Odes by Horace

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When guilt goes forth, let lapwings shrill,

And dogs and foxes great with young,

And wolves from far Lanuvian hill,

Give clamorous tongue:

Across the roadway dart the snake,

Frightening, like arrow loosed from string,

The horses. I, for friendship's sake,

Watching each wing,

Ere to his haunt, the stagnant marsh,

The harbinger of tempest flies,

Will call the raven, croaking harsh,

From eastern skies.

Farewell!--and wheresoe'er you go,

My Galatea, think of me:

Let lefthand pie and roving crow

Still leave you free.

But mark with what a front of fear

Orion lowers. Ah! well I know

How Hadria glooms, how falsely clear

The west-winds blow.

Let foemen's wives and children feel

The gathering south-wind's angry roar,

The black wave's crash, the thunder-peal,

The quivering shore.

So to the bull Europa gave

Her beauteous form, and when she saw

The monstrous deep, the yawning grave,

Grew pale with awe.

That morn of meadow-flowers she thought,

Weaving a crown the nymphs to please:

That gloomy night she look'd on nought

But stars and seas.

Then, as in hundred-citied Crete

She landed,--"O my sire!" she said,

"O childly duty! passion's heat

Has struck thee dead.

Whence came I? death, for maiden's shame,

Were little. Do I wake to weep

My sin? or am I pure of blame,

And is it sleep

From dreamland brings a form to trick

My senses? Which was best? to go

Over the long, long waves, or pick

The flowers in blow?

O, were that monster made my prize,

How would I strive to wound that brow,

How tear those horns, my frantic eyes

Adored but now!

Shameless I left my father's home;

Shameless I cheat the expectant grave;

O heaven, that naked I might roam

In lions' cave!

Now, ere decay my bloom devour

Or thin the richness of my blood,

Fain would I fall in youth's first flower,

The tigers' food.

Hark! 'tis my father--Worthless one!

What, yet alive? the oak is nigh.

'Twas well you kept your maiden zone,

The noose to tie.

Or if your choice be that rude pike,

New barb'd with death, leap down and ask

The wind to bear you. Would you like

The bondmaid's task,

You, child of kings, a master's toy,

A mistress' slave?'" Beside her, lo!

Stood Venus smiling, and her boy

With unstrung bow.

Then, when her laughter ceased, "Have done

With fume and fret," she cried, "my fair;

That odious bull will give you soon

His horns to tear.

You know not you are Jove's own dame:

Away with sobbing; be resign'd

To greatness: you shall give your name

To half mankind."

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