The brutish clods, in shape of cits, I see what pow'r your Gods can show, Change low with high, and high with low; And in his stead exalt the base : Thus Fortune's gifts some lose, some gain, HORAT. LIB. I. ODE XXXIV. PARCUS deorum cultor et infrequens, Insanientis dum sapientie Consultus erro, nunc retrorsum Vela dare, atque iterare cursus Plerumque, per purum tonantes, Egit equos, volucremque currum: Concutitur-Valet ima summis Sustulit; hîc posuisse gaudet. We have several Translations of Horace; but none that I have seen appear to do the author justice. There is in Horace a grace, a delicacy, a liveliness, a fulness of expression, and a harmony of versification, that at once captivate the ear and the heart. I need not explain to you how far short of these excellencies our translators in general have fallen. Having myself studied this poet with uncommon attention I have, with all my might, endeavoured to preserve these qualities in my version, of which I send you the inclosed Ode as a specimen. If you judge it to have less merit than the partial parent believes, you will still allow it, I hope, to soar above the common flights of modern poetry. It is not heavy as lead, like Mr. ; nor dull as ditch-water, like Anna Matilda; nor mad as a Marchhare, like our present excellent Laureat; nor stupid but I should never make an end, if I went on with my comparisons. If this sample takes, I mean to publish a translation of the whole by subscription: it will be printed on wire-wove paper, and hot-pressed—not to exceed two volumes quarto. A great number of engravings will be added by the most eminent artists. The obscenities will be left out of the common copies; but printed separately for the use of the curious and critical readers. The passages that have an improper political tendency will be carefully omitted; such as -Sed magis Pugnas, et exactos tyrannos Densum humeris bibit aure vulgus. "The clustering mob is more delighted to hear of battles and the expulsion of tyrants." Or that address to Fortune Purpurei metuunt tyranni, Injurioso ne pede proruas Stantem columnam : neu populus frequens Concitet, imperiumque frangat. "Purple tyrants dread thee, O Fortune, lest thou shouldst kick down the standing pillar [of existing circumstances]; lest the thronging populace should summon the loiterers TO ARMS, TO ARMS; and demolish the empire." But these passages are very few, aad shall be studiously suppressed. Luckily, Horace is full of loyal effu. sions, which I shall endeavour to render with spirit as well as fidelity. What, for instance, can be more applicable than the following passage to the present war? -Diu Latèque victrices catervæ, Consiliis Juvenis repressæ, Sensere, quid mens rite, quid indoles Posset-quid Augusti paternus In pueros animus Nerones. "The armies, so long and so far victorious, were checked by the conduct of a young Prince, and became sensible what could be done by a mind and a disposition duly nurtured under an auspicious roof--what could be achieved by the paterna affection of Augustus to the young Neroes." But it is time to release you from this tedious preface, and give you my specimen.-Why, thus it runs, then : HORACE, BOOK I. ODE XXVII. TRANSLATED. Fy, friends! were glasses made for fighting, "Pistols and ball for six!" what sport! And bring your elbows to an anchor. Why, though your stuff is plaguy heady, I'll try to hold one bumper steady, Let Ned but say, what wench's eyes Gave him the wound, of which he dies. What Lapland witch, what cunning man, Can free you from this haridan ? St. George himself, who slew the dragon, Would idly waste his strength this hag on. HORAT, CARM. I. 27. Natis in usum lætitiæ scyphis Pugnare, Thracum est; tollite barbarum Vino et lucernis Medus acinaces Et cubito remanete presso. Vultis severi me quoque sumere Cessat voluntas? Non aliâ bibam Non erubescendis adurit Ignibus, ingenuoque semper Amore peccas. Quicquid habes, age; Depone tutis auribus. Ah miser! Quæ saga, quis te solvere Thessalis Pegasus expediet chimærâ. |