ust laws and haughty retribution await you. I will not be deserted
with fruitless prayers; and no expiations shall atone for you. Though
you are in haste, you need not tarry long: after having thrice sprinkled
the dust over me, you may proceed.

* * * * *

ODE XXIX.

TO ICCIUS.

O Iccius, you now covet the opulent treasures of the Arabians, and are
preparing vigorous for a war against the kings of Saba, hitherto
unconquered, and are forming chains for the formidable Mede. What
barbarian virgin shall be your slave, after you have killed her
betrothed husband? What boy from the court shall be made your
cup-bearer, with his perfumed locks, skilled to direct the Seric arrows
with his father's bow? Who will now deny that it is probable for
precipitate rivers to flow back again to the high mountains, and for
Tiber to change his course, since you are about to exchange the noble
works of Panaetius, collected from all parts, together with the whole
Socratic family, for Iberian armor, after you had promised better
things?

* * * * *

ODE XXX.

TO VENUS.

O Venus, queen of Gnidus and Paphos, neglect your favorite Cyprus, and
transport yourself into the beautiful temple of Glycera, who is invoking
you with abundance of frankincense. Let your glowing son hasten along
with you, and the Graces with their zones loosed, and the Nymphs, and
Youth possessed of little charm without you and Mercury.

* * * * *

ODE XXXI.

TO APOLLO.

What does the poet beg from Phoebus on the dedication of his temple?
What does he pray for, while he pours from the flagon the first
libation? Not the rich crops of fertile Sardinia: not the goodly flocks
of scorched Calabria: not gold, or Indian ivory: not those countries,
which the still river Liris eats away with its silent streams. Let those
to whom fortune has given the Calenian vineyards, prune them with a
hooked knife; and let the wealthy merchant drink out of golden cups the
wines procured by his Syrian merchandize, favored by the gods
themselves, inasmuch as without loss he visits three or four times a
year the Atlantic Sea. Me olives support, me succories and soft mallows.
O thou son of Latona, grant me to enjoy my acquisitions, and to possess
my health, together with an unimpaired understanding, I beseech thee;
and that I may not lead a dishonorable old age, nor one bereft o