ome clear fountain in a glade,
The mellow wine of ruby gleam,
While in vain the purer stream
Courts him, as gently the green bank it laves,
To blend th' enfevering draught with its pellucid waves.

I.

Th' uplifted trumpet, and the clarion, send,
Confus'd, the mingled clang afar;
Lo! while the Matron's tender breast they rend,
Her Soldier hails that din of war.--
The wood-land _Chase_ desired,
Far other sounds the Hunter charms;
By the enlivening shout inspired,
He breaks from his young Bride's encircling arms;
Nor heeds the morning's wintry gale,
While his deep-mouth'd hounds inhale
The tainted breeze, or hold the stag at bay,
Or while, from his strong toils, the wild boar bursts away.

II.

[2]THEE bright Learning's ivy crown
Exalts above a mortal fate;
_Me_ shady Groves, light Nymphs, and Satyrs brown,
Raise o'er the Crowd, in sweet sequester'd state.
And there is heard the Lesbian lute,
And there Euterpe's Dorian flute;
But, should'st thou rank me with the LYRIC CHOIR,
To GLORY's starry heights thy Poet would aspire.--

1: The Romans, in general, made no regular meal till the business of
the day was over. They considered a mid-day feast as a mark of
indolence and luxury.

2: "_Diis miscent superis._] A manner of expression not unusual
amongst the Greeks and Latins, for any eminent degree of happiness.
Unless we adopt this explanation of the words, says Dacier, we shall
make Horace guilty of a manifest contradiction, since a few lines
farther he tells his Patron, that _his suffrage_, not the _ivy crown_
is that, which will exalt him to the skies. The judicious emendation
of the late Bishop of Chichester, who for _Me doctarum_, reads _Te
doctarum_, removes all objection; and adds beauty to the Ode by the
fine compliment it contains to Maecenas." BROM. HOR.

TO PYRRHA.

BOOK THE FIRST, ODE THE FIFTH.

Where roses flaunt beneath some pleasant cave,
Too charming Pyrrha, what enamour'd Boy,
Whose shining locks the breathing odors lave,
Woos thee, exulting in a transient joy?
For whom the simple band dost thou prepare,
That lightly fastens back thy golden hair?

Alas! how soon shall this devoted Youth
Love's tyrant sway, and thy chang'd eyes deplore,
Indignant curse thy violated truth,
And count each broken promise o'er and o'er,
Who hopes to meet, unconscious of thy wiles,
Looks ev