ts of
Munatius dejected, writes this Ode to reconcile him to his destiny,
and to inspire him with delight in the beautiful Scenery by which he
was surrounded; insinuating, that should Augustus _banish_ him, which
was no improbable event, he ought not to despond, but to form his
conduct upon the spirited example of Teucer; who, together with his
Friends and Followers, was banished from his native City, Salamis, by
his Father, because he had not revenged upon the Greeks the death of
his Brother Ajax.--The disinterested design of this Ode, and the
humane attention it pays to a disgraced Nobleman, are much to the
Poet's honor, who was perhaps, in general, more disposed to gratulate
the Powerful, than to sooth the Unfortunate.

2: _Rhodes_, the Capital of an Island of the same name in the
Mediterranean, and famous for the Colossal Statue.

3: _Mitylene_, the chief City of Lesbos, praised by Cicero for its
advantageous situation, elegant buildings, and fertile soil.

4: Tawny Olive. It was believed that Minerva presented the seed of
the olive-tree to the Athenians.

5: _Larissa_, a beautiful City, upon one of the hills in Thessaly.

6: This surely must be the Poet's meaning in mentioning his _own_
villa, when he is endeavouring to awaken in Munatius a taste for the
surrounding beauties of his more magnificent seat. Commentators
rationally conclude that some _connecting_ lines have been lost from
the latin of this Ode. It appears to me, that the idea which those
dismembered lines conveyed, must necessarily have been the comparison
_added_ in the four ensuing lines, which makes the transition easy.

TO LYDIA.

BOOK THE FIRST, ODE THE EIGHTH.

O, Lydia! I conjure thee tell
Why, with persisting zeal, thou dost employ
The strongest power of amorous spell
On Sybaris, belov'd too well,
Wounding his fame amid voluptuous joy?

Why shuns he now the noon-tide glare,
Inur'd to whirling dust, and scorching heat?
Ceases the Warrior-vest to wear
In which he us'd, with graceful air,
Aspiring Youths, all emulous, to meet?

Why is it now no more his pride
To rein the ardent horse with agile arm?
With new-strung sinews to divide
The yellow Tyber's angry tide,
When the tempestuous showers its rage alarm?

Why hates he, as the viper's gore,
The Wrestler's oil, that supples every vein?
Why do we see his arms no more
With livid bruises spotted o'er,
Of manl