er vacant, ever facile smiles!

He, inexperienc'd Mariner! shall gaze
In wild amazement on the stormy deep,
Recall the flattery of those sunny days,
That lull'd each ruder wind to calmest sleep.
'T was then, with jocund hope, he spread the sail,
In rash dependence on the faithless gale.

Ah Wretch! to whom untried thou seemest fair!
By me, who late thy halcyon surface sung,
[1]The walls of Neptune's fane inscrib'd, declare
That I have dank and dropping garments hung,
Devoted to the GOD, whose kind decree
Snatch'd me to shore, from an o'erwhelming sea.

1: Horace alludes to the custom of the Roman Mariners after a
shipwreck--that of suspending their garments, which had been drenched
in the storm, in the temple of Neptune, together with a votive
tablet, on which the circumstances of the danger and escape, were
painted.

TO [1]MUNATIUS PLANCUS.

BOOK THE FIRST, ODE THE SEVENTH.

Be far-fam'd [2]RHODES the theme of loftier strains,
Or [3]MITYLENE, as their Bard decrees;
Or EPHESUS, where great DIANA reigns,
Or CORINTH, towering 'twixt the rival seas;
Or THEBES, illustrious in thy birth divine,
Purpureal BACCHUS;--or of PHOEBUS' shrine
DELPHOS oracular; or warbling hail
Thessalian TEMPE's flower-embroider'd vale.

The Art-crown'd City, chaste MINERVA's pride,
There are, whose endless numbers have pourtray'd;
They, to each tree that spreads its branches wide,
Prefer the [4]tawny Olive's scanty shade.
Many, in JUNO's honor, sing thy meads,
Green ARGOS, glorying in thy agile steeds;
Or opulent MYCENE, whose proud fanes
The blood of murder'd AGAMEMNON stains.

Nor patient LACEDAEMON wakes my lyre,
Who trains her Sons to all the Warrior's toil;
Nor me [5]LARISSA's airy graces fire,
Tho' round her hills the golden vallies smile:
But my lov'd mansion, 'mid the circling wood,
On the green bank of clear Alb[=u]nea's flood,
Its walls resounding with the echo'd roar,
As Anio's torrents down the mountain pour.

Amid my blooming orchards pleas'd I rove,
Guiding the ductile course of murmuring rills;
Or mark the curtains of the sacred grove
Sink in the vales, or sweep along the hills.
[6]Ah Friend! if round my cell such graces shine,
The PALACE of Tiburnian Shades is thine;
She every feature of the Scene commands,
And Empress of its varied beauty stands.

Tho' frequent mists the young Favonius shroud,
Ben