Odes by Horace

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Now drink we deep, now featly tread

A measure; now before each shrine

With Salian feasts the table spread;

The time invites us, comrades mine.

'Twas shame to broach, before to-day,

The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame

Threaten'd our power in dust to lay

And wrap the Capitol in flame,

Girt with her foul emasculate throng,

By Fortune's sweet new wine befool'd,

In hope's ungovern'd weakness strong

To hope for all; but soon she cool'd,

To see one ship from burning'scape;

Great Caesar taught her dizzy brain,

Made mad by Mareotic grape,

To feel the sobering truth of pain,

And gave her chase from Italy,

As after doves fierce falcons speed,

As hunters 'neath Haemonia's sky

Chase the tired hare, so might he lead

The fiend enchain'd; SHE sought to die

More nobly, nor with woman's dread

Quail'd at the steel, nor timorously

In her fleet ships to covert fled.

Amid her ruin'd halls she stood

Unblench'd, and fearless to the end

Grasp'd the fell snakes, that all her blood

Might with the cold black venom blend,

Death's purpose flushing in her face;

Nor to our ships the glory gave,

That she, no vulgar dame, should grace

A triumph, crownless, and a slave.

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