HORAT. LIB. 2. SAT. 6... HORAT. CARM. LIB. 3. OD 29.
I answer, "I will trie:" he vrgeth still. "I know you can performe it, if you will." Seu'n yeeres are fled, the eighth is almost gone, Since first Mecanas tooke me for his owne, That I with him might in his chariot sit, And onely then would to my trust commit Such toyes as these: What is the time of day? The Thracian is the Syrian's match in play. Now carelesse men are nipt with morning cold: And words which open eares may safely hold. In all this space for eu'ry day and houre 1 grew more subiect to pale Enuie's pow'r. This sonne of Fortune to the stage resorts, And with the fau'rite in the field disports. Fame from the pulpits runnes thro' eu'ry streete, And I am strictly askt by all I meete: "Good sir, (you needes must know, for you are Vnto the gods) doe you no tidings heare Concerning Dacian troubles?"" Nothing I." "You alwayes loue your friends with scoffes to try." "If I can tell, the gods my life confound." "But where will Cæsar giue his souldiers ground, In Italie, or the Trinacrian ile?"
I sweare I know not: they admire the while, And thinke me full of silence, graue and deepe, The onely man that should high secrets keepe; For these respects (poore wretch) I lose the light, And longing thus repine: "When shall my sight Againe bee happy in beholding thee, My countrey farme? or when shall I be free To reade in bookes what ancient writers speake, To rest in sleepe, which others may not breake, To taste (in houres secure from courtly strife) The soft obliuion of a carefull life?
O when shall beanes vpon my boord appeare, Which wise Pythagoras esteem'd so deare? Or when shall fatnesse of the lard anoint The herbes, which for my table I appoint? O suppers of the gods! O nights diuine! When I before our Lar might feast with mine, And feede my prating slaues with tasted meate, As eu'ry one should haue desire to eate." The frolike guest, not bound with heauy lawes, The liquor from vnequall measures drawes: Some, being strong, delight in larger draughts, Some call for lesser cups to clecre their thoughts. Of others house and lands no speaches grow, Nor whether Lepos danceth well or no. We talke of things which to our selues pertaine, Which not to know would be a sinfull staine. Are men by riches or by vertue blest? Of friendship's ends is vse or right the best? Of good what is the nature, what excells? My neighbour Ceruius old wines fables tells : When any one Arellius' wealth admires, And little knowes what troubles it requires, He thus beginnes: "Long since a countrey mouse Receau'd into his low and homely house A citty mouse, his friend and guest before; The host was sharpe and sparing of his store, Yet much to hospitality inclin'd: For such occasions could dilate his mind. He chiches giues for winter layd aside, Nor are the long and slender otes deny'd: Dry grapes he in his lib'rall mouth doth beare, And bits of bacon, which halfe eaten were: With various meates to please the stranger's pride, Whose dainty teeth through all the dishes slide. The father of the family in straw
Lies stretcht along, disdaigning not to gnaw
Base corne or darnell, and reserues the best, To make a perfect banquet for his guest.
To him at last the citizen thus spake :
My friend, I muse what pleasure thou canst take, Or how thou canst endure to spend thy time In shady groues and vp steepe hills to clime. In sauage forrests build no more thy den: Goe to the city, there to dwell with men. Begin this happy iourney; trust to me, I will thee guide, thou shalt my fellow be. Since earthly things are ty'd to mortall liues, And eu'ry great and little creature striues, In vaine, the certaine stroke of death to flie, Stay not till moinents past thy ioyes denie. Liue in rich plenty and perpetuall sport: Liue euer mindfull, that thine age is short.' The rauisht field mouse holds these words so sweet, That from his home he leapes with nimble feet. They to the citie trauaile with delight, And vnderneath the walles they creepe at night. Now darknesse had possest Heau'u's middle space, When these two friends their weary steps did place Within a wealthy palace, where was spred A scarlet cou'ring on an iu'ry bed: The baskets (set farre off aside) contain'd The meates, which after plenteous meales remain'd: The citie mouse with courtly phrase intreates His country friend to rest in purple seates; With ready care the master of the feast Runnes vp and downe to see the store increast: He all the duties of a seruant showes, And tastes of eu'ry dish that he bestowes. The poore plaine mouse, exalted thus in state, Glad of the change, his former life doth hate, And striues in lookes and gesture to declare With what contentment he receiues this fare. But straight the sudden creaking of a doore Shakes both these mice from beds into the floore. They runne about the roome halfe dead with feare, Through all the house the noise of dogs they heare. The stranger now counts not the place so good, He bids farewell, and saith, The silent wood Shall me hereafter from these dangers saue, Well pleas'd with simple vetches in my caue.""
HORAT. CARM. LIB. III. OD. XXIX.
MECENAS, (sprung from Tuscan kings) for thee Milde wine in vessels, neuer toucht, I keepe, Here roses, and sweete odours be, Whose dew thy haire shall steepe:
O stay not! let moyst Tibur be disdain'd, And Æsulae's declining fields and hills, Where once Telegonus remain'd,
Whose hand his father kills;
Forsake that height where lothsome plenty cloyes, And towres, which to the lofty clouds aspire, The smoke of Rome, her wealth and noyse, Thou wilt not here admire.
In pleasing change the rich man takes delight, And frugall meales in homely seates allowes, Where hangings want, and purple bright, He cleares his carefull browes.
Now Cepheus plainely shewes his hidden fire, The Dog-starre now his furious beate displayes, The Lion spreads his raging ire,
The Sunne brings parching dayes.
The shepheard now his sickly flocke restores, With shades, and riuers, and the thickets finds Of rough Siluanus, silent shores
Are free from playing winds.
To keepe the state in order is thy care,
Sollicitous for Rome, thou fear'st the warres, Which barbrous easterne troopes prepare, And Tanais vs'd to iarres.
The wise Creator from our knowledge hides The end of future times in darksome night; False thoughts of mortals he derides,
When them vaine toyes affright.
With mindfull temper present houres compose, The rest are like a riuer, which, with ease, Sometimes within his channell flowes
No forse can make that voide, which once is past, Those things are neuer alter'd, or vndone, Which from the instant rolling fast,
With flying moments run.
Proud Fortune, ioyfull sad affaires to find, Insulting in her sport, delights to change Vncertaine honours: quickly kinde, And straight againe as strange.
I prayse her stay; but if she stirre her wings, Her gifts I leaue, and to my selfe retire, Wrapt in my vertue: honest things
Iu want no dowre require.
When Lybian stormes the mast in pieces shake, I neuer God with pray'rs and vowes implore, Lest precious wares addition make
To greedy Neptune's store.
Then I, contented with a little bote,
Am through gean waues by winds conuay'd, Where Pollux makes me safely flote, And Castor's friendly aide.
He happy is, who, farre from busie sounds, (As ancient mortals dwelt)
With his owne oxen tills his father's grounds, And debts bath neuer felt.
No warre disturbes his rest with fierce alarines, Nor angry seas offend :
He shannes the law, and those ambitious charmes, Which great men's doores attend.
The lofty poplers with delight he weds
To vines that grow apace,
And with his hooke vnfruitfull branches shreds, More happy sprouts to place,
Or else beholds, how lowing heards astray, In narrow valleys creepe,
Or in cleane pots doth pleasant hony lay, Or sheares his feeble shoepe.
When Autumne from the ground his head vpreares; With timely apples chain'd,
How glad is he to plucke ingrafted peares, And grapes with purple stain'd! Thus he Priapus or Syluanus payes, Who keepes his limits free,
His weary limbes in holding grasse he layes, Or vnder some old tree.
Along the lofty bankes the waters slide,
The birds in woods lament,
The springs with trickling streames the ayre diuide, Whence gentle sleepes are lent.
But when great Ioue, in winter's days, restores Vnpleasing showres and snowes,
With many dogs he driues the angry bores To snares which them oppose.
His slender nets, dispos'd on little stakes, . The greedy thrush preuent:
The fearefull hare and forraine crane he takes, With this reward content.
Who will not in these ioyes forget the cares,
Which oft in loue we meete?
But when a modest wife the trouble shares Of house and children sweete,
(Like Sabines or the swift Apulians' wiues) Whose cheekes the sun-beames harme, When from old wood she sacred fire contriues, Her weary mate to warme,
When she with hurdles her glad flockes confines, And their full vdders dries,
And from sweet vessels drawes the yearely wines, And meates vnbought supplies;
No Lucrine oysters can my palate please, Those fishes I neglect,
Which tempests thundring on the easterne seas Into our waues direct.
No bird, from Affrike sent, my taste allowes, Nor fowle which Asia breeds:
The oliue (gather'd from the fatty boughes) With more delight me feeds.
Sowre herbs, which loue the meades, or mallowes To ease the body pain'd:
All from the temple are not apt to take Soft lowly sounds, and open vowes to make. The gifts of minde, fame, faith, he vtters cleare, That strangers may farre off his wishes heare: But this he mumbles vnderneath his tongue : “O that mine vnkle's death, expected long, Would bring a fun'rall which no cost shall lacke! O that a pot of siluer once would cracke Beneath my harrow, by Alcides sent! Or that I could the orphan's hopes preuent, To whom I am next heire, and must succeed! (Since swelling humours in his body breed, Which threaten oft the shortnesse of his life.) How blest is Nerius, thrice to change his wife!" Those are the holy pray'rs for which thy head (When first the morning bath her mantle spred) Is dipt so many times in Tiber's streames, Where running waters purge the nightly dreames. I thus demand in answer be not slow, It is not much that I desire to know:
Of loue what think'st thou? if thy judgement can Esteeme him juster than a mortall man? Than Staius? doubt'st thou which of these is best, To judge aright the fatherlesse opprest? The speech with which thine impious wishes dare Prophane loue's eares, to Staius now declare: "O loue! O good Ione!" he will straight ex- claime,
And shall not Ioue crie out on his owne name? For pardon canst thou hope, because the oke Is sooner by the sacred brimstone broke,
The left side of thy brest will dropping sweate, And full of ioy thy trembling heart will beate. Hence comes it, that with gold in triumph borne, Thou do'st the faces of the gods adorne : Among the brazen brethren they that send Those dreames, where euill humours least extend, The highest place in men's affections hold, And for their care receiue a beard of gold: The glorious name of gold hath put away The vse of Saturne's brasse, and Numae's clay. This glitt'ring pride to richer substance turnes The Tuscan earthen pots and vestall vrnes. O crooked soules, declining to the earth, Whose empty thoughts forget their heau'nly birth: What end, what profit, haue we, when we strive Our manners to the temples to deriue? Can we suppose, that to the gods we bring Some pleasing good for this corrupted spring? This flesh, which casia doth dissolue and spoyle, And with that mixture taints the natiue oyle: This boyles the fish with purple liquor full, And staines the whitenesse of Calabrian wooll. This from the shell scrapes out the pearle, and straines
From raw rude earth the feruent metal's veines. This sinnes, it sinnes, yet makes some vse of vice: But tell me, ye great flamins, can the price Raise gold to more account in holy things, Than babies, which the maide to Venus brings? Nay, rather let vs yeeld the gods such gifts, As great Messallae's off-spring neuer lifts,
When thunder teares the ayre, than thou and thine, In costly chargers stretcht to ample space, Because thou ly'st not, as a dismall signe In woods, while entrailes, and Ergennae's art, Bid all from thy sad carkase to depart, Will therefore Ioue his foolish beard extend, For thee to pull? What treasure canst thou spend To make the eares of gods by purchase thine? Can lights and bowels bribe the pow'rs diuine? Some grandame, or religious aunt, whose ioy Is from the cradle to take out the boy, In lustrall spittle her long finger dips, And expiates his forehead and bis lips. Her cunning from bewitching eyes defends, Then in her armes she dandles him, and sends Her slender hope, which humble vowes propound To Crassus' house, or to Licinius' ground. Let kings and queenes wish him their sonne in law; Let all the wenches him in pieces draw; May eu'ry stalke of grasse on which he goes, Be soone transform'd into a fragrant rose. No such request to nurses I allow : Ioue, (though she pray in white) refuse her vow. Thou would'st firme sinewes haue, a body strong, Which may in age continue able long;
Because degen'rate from his noble race:
A soule, where iust and pious thoughts are chain'd; A mind, whose secret corners are vnstain'd; A brest, in which all gen'rous vertues lie, And paint it with a neuer-fading die. Thus to the temples let me come with zeale, The gods will heare me, though I offer meale.
See for this worke how things are newly styl'd, Man is declar'd, almighty! God, a child Í The Worde made flesh, is speechlesse, and the Light
Begins from clouds, and sets in depth of night; Behold the Sunne eclips'd for many yeeres, And en'ry day more dusky robes he weares, Till after totall darknesse shining faire, No Moone shall barre his splendour from the aire. Let faithfull soules this double feast attend In two processions: let the first descend The temple's staires, and with a downe-cast eye Vpon the lowest pauement prostrate lie, In creeping violets, white lillies shiae Their humble thoughts, and eu'ry pure designe; The other troope shall climbe with sacred heate, The rich degrees of Salomon's bright scate, In glowing roses feruent zeale they beare, And in the azure flowre-de-lis appeare Celestiall contemplations, which aspire Aboue the skie, vp to th' immortal quire.
FAIRE easterne starre, that art ordain'd to runne Before the sages, to the rising Sunne, Here cease thy course, and wonder that the cloud Of this poore stable can thy Maker shroud: Ye, heauenly bodies, glory to be bright, And are esteem'd, as ye are rich in light: But here on Earth is taught a diff'rent way, Since vnder this low roofe the Highest lay; Ierusalem erects her stately towres, Displayes her windowes, and adornes her bowres : Yet there thou must not cast a trembling sparke. Let Herod's palace still continue darke, Each schoole and synagogue thy force repels, There Pride, enthron'd in misty errours, dwels. The temple, where the priests maintaine their quire,
Shall taste no beame of thy celestiall fire. While this weake cottage all thy splendour takes, A joyfull gate of eu'ry chinke it makes. Here shines no golden roofe, no ju'ry staire, No king exalted in a stately chaire, Girt with attendants, or by heralds styl'd, But straw and hay inwrap a speechlesse child; Yet Sabae's lords before this babe vnfold Their treasures, off'ring incense, myrrh, and gold. The cribbe becomes an altar; therefore dies No oxe nor sheepe, for in their fodder lies The Prince of Peace, who, thankfull for his bed, Destroyes those rites, in which their blood was shed: The quintessence of earth he takes and fees, And precious gummes distill'd from weeping trees, Rich metals, and sweet odours, now declare The glorious blessings, which his lawes prepare To clearc vs from the base and lothsome flood Of sense, and make vs fit for angels' food, Who lift to God for vs the holy smoke Of feruent pray'rs, with which we him inuoke, And trie our actions in that searching fire, By which the seraphims our lips inspire: No muddy drosse pure min'ralls shall infect, We shall exhale our vapours vp direct:
No storines shall crosse, nor glitt'ring lights deface Perpetuall sighes, which seeke a happy place.
AN ODE OF THE BLESSED TRINITIE. MYSE, that art dull and weake, Opprest with worldly paine, If strength in thee remaine,
Of things diuine to speake:
Thy thoughts awhile from vrgent cares restraine, And with a chearefull voice thy wonted silence breake.
No cold shall thee benamme, Nor darknesse taint thy sight; To thee new heate, new light,
Shall from this obiect come,
Whose praises if thou now wilt sound aright, My pen shall giue thee leaue hereafter to be dumbe.
Whence shall we then begin
To sing, or write of this,
Where no beginning is?
Or if we enter in,
Where shall we end? The end is endlesse blisse; Thrice happy we, if well so rich a thread we spinne,
For Thee our strings we touch, Thou that art Three, and One, Whose essence, though vnknowne, Beleeu'd is to be such;
To whom what ere we giue, we giue thine owne, And yet no mortall tongue can giue to thee so much.
See, how in vayne we trie
To find some tipe, t' agree With this great One in Three, Yet can none such descrie,
If any like, or second were to thee,
Thy hidden nature then were not so deepe and high.
Here faile inferiour things,
The Sunne, whose heate and light Make creatures warme and bright, A feeble shadow brings :
The Sunne shewes to the world his Father's might, With glorious raies, from both our fire (the spirit) springs.
Now to this toplesse hill Let vs ascend more neare, Yet still within the spheare
Of our connat'ral skill,
We may behold how in our soules we beare An vnderstanding pow'r, ioyn'd with effectual will. We can no higher goe
To search this point diuine; Here it doth chiefly shine, This image must it show:
These steppes as helpes our humble minds incline, T'embrace those certaine grounds, which from true. faith must flow.
To him these notes direct,
Who not with outward hands, Nor by his strong commands, Whence creatures take effect: While perfectly himselfe he vnderstands, Begets another selfe, with equall glory deckt.
From these, the spring of loue,
The holy Ghost proceeds,
Who our affection feeds
With those cleare flames, which moue From that eternall Essence which them breeds, And strike into our soules, as lightning from aboue
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