Category: Poetry
Love is not blind, but I alone, who steer My wishes headlong unto death: Love is no child, but I; who in a breath Laugh and lament, and hope and fear: What folly then to speak of “flames of Love!” Love’s fire from untamed passion springs, High and presumptuous thoughts are Cup...
Sprung from the Etrurian kingly line Mecænas, thee my choicest wine Stored in a cask ne’er broach’d, my best Of unguents for thy hair exprest, With roses fresh, invite to stay;...
1. BOOK III.—ODE XXIX. 47Love is not blind, but I alone, who steer My wishes headlong unto death: Love is no child, but I; who in a breath Laugh and lament, and hope and fear: What folly then to speak o...
2. BOOK I.—ODE III.Thee, may the Cyprian queen divine, And Helen’s brethren, glittering sign, And Æolus, the winds’ stern sire, (Save Iapyx all his subjects bound,) Ship! prosperous guide; that sa...
4. BOOK I.—ODE IX.3. BOOK I.—ODE V.What slender youth, whom many roses crown, Whose hair rich liquid unguents steal adown, Wooes thee, coy Pyrrha, in some pleasant grot? For whom dost thou thy golden tresses knot...