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Mitte civiles fuper urbe curas.

Occidit Daci Cotifonis agmen :
Medus infeftus fibi luctuofis
Diffidet armis:

Servit Hifpanæ vetus hoftis oræ
Cantaber, ferâ domitus catenâ :
Jam Scythæ laxo meditantur arcu
Cedere campis :

Negligens ne quâ populus laboret,
Parce privatus nimium cavere: &
Dona præfentis rape lætus horæ, ac
Linque fevera.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

the city of Rome. The forces of the Dacian Cotifan are routed; the Mede is at variance with himself in grievous civil armaments; the Cantabrian, that old enemy on the Spanish coaft, is reduced to fervitude, conquered at laft by a long-protracted war; now the Scythians are meditating to quit the field,

with

Ceafe each political conceit,

Nor Rome let all your cares engage;

The Dacian Cotifon is beat,

The hoftile Medes, in felf-defeat,
Domestic warfare wage:

The Spanish foe now pays the tax,

Though by flow fteps this wreath was won ;
The Scythian troops their bows relax,
And, fearful of the Roman ax,

The field of battle shun:

The state, not as a man in pow'r,
But as a private friend, repute;
Leave things that are fevere and four
For pleasures of the prefent hour,
Wine, converse, harp, and lute.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

with their bows relaxed. Careless as a private citizen, spare to be too wary, left the people fail in any matter; and, joyous, fnatch at the gifts of the present hour, and forbear matters of austerity.

ODE

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Dialogus eft de præteritis amoribus eifdemque renovandis.

Ho. DONEC gratus eram tibi,

Nec quifquam potior brachia candida
Cervici juvenis dabat,

Perfarum vigui rege beatior.

LY. Donec non aliâ magis

Arfifti, neque erat Lydia poft Chloen.

Multi Lydia nominis

Romanâ vigui clarior Iliâ.

Ho. Me nunc Threffa Chloe regit,

Dulces docta modos, & citharæ fciens :

Pro quâ non metuam mori,

Si parcent animæ fata fuperftti.

Ly. Me torrèt face mutuâ

Thurini Calais filius Ornithi;

Pro quo bis patiar mori,

Si parcent puero fata fuperftiti.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

HOR. So long as I was acceptable to you, nor did any other young fellow more of your choice throw his arms over your white neck, I throve more happy than the fovereign of the Perfians.-LYD.-So long as you did not burn more for another, nor was Lydia poftponed to Chloe, I, Lydia, of much reputation, throve in more eminence than the Roman Ilia.-HOR.-The Thracian Chloe now rules me, fkilled

in

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It is a Dialogue concerning their former loves, with a propofal for renewing them.

Ho. WHILST

my growing flame you nourish'd,

Spotless of a rival's touch,

Clafp'd within your arms I flourish'd,
Not the Perfian king fo much.

LY. Ere you languifh'd for another,
And with Chloe was inflam'd,
Lydia, greater than the mother

Of the Roman race, was nam'd.
6. Me indeed that Thracian beauty,
Sweet musician, holds her flave;
For whofe life I deem it duty

Death, ev'n death itself to brave. Ly. Me my Calais with fuch ardour Courts and kiffes-him to fpare Death, or was there aught ftill harder, I ten thousand times would bear.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

in fweet measures, and learned upon the lyre, for whom I would not fear to die, if the fates would fpare that furviving fpirit.-LYD.-Calais, the fon of the Thurian Ornithus, fcorches me with a mutual torch, for whom I would endure twice to die, if the fates would fpare the furviving

boy.

Ho. Quid fi prifca redit Venus?

Diductofque jugo cogit aheneo?
Si flava excutitur Chloe?

Rejectæque patet janua Lydiæ ?

LY. Quanquam fydere pulchrior

Ille eft, tu levior cortice, & improbo
Iracundior Adriâ :

Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens.

PROSE INTERPRETATION.

boy.-HOR. What if our old love return, and unite us, fevered as we are, with a brazen yoke? If the yellow-hair'd Chloe be shook off, and my door open again to the rejected

Lydia?

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