A poetical translation of the works of Horace: with the original text, and critical notes, Volume 3 (Google eBook)

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Printed for A. Miller, 1750
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Page 87 - A place among your nearer friends enroll'd. An honour this, methinks, of nobler kind, That innocent of heart and pure of mind, Though with no titled birth, I gain'd his love, Whose judgment can discern, whose choice approve. If some few venial faults deform my soul, (Like a fair face when spotted with a mole,) If none with avarice justly brand my fame With sordidness, or deeds too vile to name: If pure and innocent: if dear (forgive These little praises) to my friends...
Page 59 - He who malignant tears an absent friend, Or, when attacked by others, don't defend ; Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise, And courts of prating petulance the praise ; Of things he never saw who tells his tale, And friendship's secrets knows not to conceal, This man is vile; here, Roman, fix your mark; His soul is black, as is his nature dark.
Page 153 - For hens and peacocks are alike in taste. But say, by what discernment are you taught To know, that this voracious pike was caught Where the full river's lenient waters glide. Or where the bridges break the rapid tide: In the mid ocean, or where Tiber pays With broader course his tribute to the seas? Madly you praise the mullet's three pound weight, And yet you stew it piece-meal ere you eat ; Your...
Page 117 - I'll bribe his servants to my side; To-day shut out, still onward press, And watch the seasons of access; In private haunt, in public meet, Salute, escort him through the street. There's nothing gotten in this life, Without a world of toil and strife!
Page 16 - Eft modus in rebus ; funt certi denique fines, Quos ultra, citraque nequit confiftere reftum. Illuc, unde abii, redeo. Nemon...
Page 13 - This, and no more, thy mass of money buys. But, with continual watching almost dead, House-breaking thieves, and midnight fires to dread, Or the suspected slave's untimely flight With the dear pelf; if this be thy delight, Be it my fate, so heaven in bounty please. Still to be poor of blessings such as these!
Page 201 - Condemn the murderer and absolve the fool ? But though in civil phrase you change the name, Madman and fool for ever are the same. With hands clean wash'd, a sober ancient wight, Ran praying through the streets at early light, ' Snatch me from death; grant me alone to live; No mighty boon; with ease the gods can give.' Sound were his senses, yet if he were sold, His master sure this weakness must have told; And if not fond a lawsuit to maintain, Must have confess'd the slave unsound of brain. This...
Page 177 - Come all, whose breasts witli bad ambition rise, Or the pale passion, that for money dies, With luxury, or superstition's gloom, Whate'er disease your health of mind consume. Compose your robes; in decent ranks draw near And, that ye all are mad, with reverence hear.
Page 15 - So wondrous rich he measured out his gold, Yet never dress'd him better than a slave, Afraid of starving ere he reach'd his grave : But a bold wench, of right virago strain, Cleft with an axe the wretched wight in twain.
Page 5 - The queftion concerning the merit of the day is foon decided, and we are not condemned to toil through half a folio, to be convinced that the writer has broke his promife. It is one among many reafons for which I purpofe to endeavour the entertainment of my countrymen...

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