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HORACE, Book III. Ode XXI. .
H
TAIL, gentle Cask, whose venerable Head

With hoary Down and ancient Duft o'er spread, Proclaim, that since the Vine first brought Thee forth

Old Age has added to thy Worth
Whether the sprightly Juice thou dost contain,
Thy Vot'ries will to 'Wic and Love,
Or senseles Noise and Lewdness move,
Or Sleep, the Cure of these and ey’ry other Pain.
Since to some Day propitious and great,
Justly at first thou waft design’d by Fate ;
This Day, the happieft of thy many Years,
With thee I will forget my Cares :
To my CORVINU's Health thou shalt go round,

(Since thou art ripend for to Days

And longer Age would bring Decay)
Till cv'ry anxious Thought in the rich Stream be

drown'd.
To thee, my friend, his Roughness shall submit,
And SOCRATES himself a while forget.
Thus when old CATO would sometimes unbend

The rugged Stiffness of his Mind
Stern and fevere, the Stoick quaff'd his Bowl,

His frozen Verrue felt the Charm,
And soon grew pleas’d, and soon grew warm,
And bless'd the sprightly Pow'r that cheard his gloomy

Soul.
With kind Constraint ill Nature thou doft bend,
And mould the snarling Cynick to a friend.
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Tu fpem reducis mentibus anxiis,
Virefque, & addis cornua pauperi,
Poft te neque iratoš trementi

Reguin apices, neque militum arma.
Te Liber, &, fi læta aderit Venus,
Segnesque nodum solvere Gratiæ,
Vivæque producent lucernæ,
Dum rediens fugat aftsa Phoebusa ??? ?1.17
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The Sage resery'd, and fam'd for Gravity, 7
Finds all he knows fumm’d: up in thce,
And by thy Pow'r unlock’d, grows cafy, gay, and free.
The Swain, who did some credulous Nymph perswade
To

grant him all, inspir’d by thee,
Devotes her to his Vanity,
And to his Fellow-Fops toasts the abandon'd Maid.
The wretch who pref'd beneach a Load of Cares,
And lab’ring with continual Woes, despairs,
If thy kind Warmth does his chillid Sense invade,
Frou Earth hé tears, his drooping Head, i
Reviv’d by thee, he ceases now to mourn ;

His flying Cares give way to Hafte,
And to the God refign kis Breast,
Where Hopes of better Days, and better Things return.
The lab’ring Hind, who with hard Toil and Pains,
Amid'st his Wants, a wretched Life maintains ;.
If thy sich Juice his homely Supper crown,
Hot with thy Fires, and bolder grown,
Of Kings, and of their arbitrary, Pow'r,

And how by impious Arms they reign,

Fiercely he talks with rude, Disdain,
And vows to be a Slave, to be a Wretch no more,
Fair Queen of Love, and thou great God of Wine,
Hear ev'ry Grace, and all ye Powirs divine,
All that to Mirth and Friendship do; incline, ti
Crown this aufpicious Cask, and happy Night,
With all Things that can give Delight;

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Be ey'ry Care and anxious Thought away;

Ye Tapers still be bright and clear.

Rival the Moon, and each pale Star, Your Beams shall yield to none, but his who brings the

Day.

HORAT. LI B. IV. ODE I.

Ad VENER E M.

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:1 Ntermiffa Venus diu,

Rurfus bella moves : parce, precor, precor. Non fum, qualis eram bona

Sub regno Cynaræ : define dulcium Matcr fæva Cupidinum,

Circa lustra decem fedtere mollibus Jam durum imperiis : Abi

Quo blandæ juvenum te revocant preces, Tempeftivius in domo

Pauli, purpureis ales oloribus, Com meffabere Maxini,

Si torrere jecur quæris idoneum. Namque & nobilis, & decens,

Et pro sollicitis non tacitus reis,

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HORACE, Book IV. Ode I.

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Nce more the Queen of Love invades my Breast,

Late, with long Ease, and peaceful Pleasures bleft; Spare, spare the Wretch, that still has been thy Slave, And let my former Service lave The Merit to protect me to the Grave. Much am I chang'd from what I once have been,

When under CINARA, good and fair,

With Joy I did thy Fetters wear,
Bless'd in the gentle Sway of an indulgent Queen
Stiff and unequal to the Labour now,
With Pain my Neck beneath thy Yoke I bow...
Why dost thou urge me still to bear ? Oh! Why
Dost thou not much rather Ay
To youthful Breasts, to Mirth and Gaiety?
Go, bid thy Swains their glolly Wings expand,

And swiftly thro' the yielding Air

To SYLVIA thee their Goddess bear,
Worthy to be thy Slave, and fit for thy Command.
Noble, and graceful, witty, gay, and young,
Joy in his Heart, Love on his charming Tongue.
Skilled in a Thousand soft prevailing Arts,
With wond'rous Force the Youth imparts
Thy Pow'r to unexperienc'd Virgins Hearts.
Far shall he stretch the Bounds of thy Command;

And if thou shalt his Wishes bless,

Beyond his Rivals with. Success,
In Gold and Marble fall thy Statues stand.

Beneath

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