Fleuron from 'Poems on Several Occasions' by William Broome, 2nd edition published in 1739
THE
FIRST ODE
OF
HORACE
TRANSLATED.
Mæcenas, whose high Lineage springsFrom a long Race of antient Kings,Patron, and Friend! thy honour'd NameAt once is my Defence, and Fame.
There are, who with fond Transport praiseThe Chariot thund'ring in the Race;Where Conquest won, and Palms bestow'd,Lift the proud Mortal to a God.
The Man, who courts the People's Voice,And doats on Offices and Noise;Or they, who till the peaceful Fields,And reap what bounteous Nature yields,Unmov'd, the Merchants Wealth behold,Nor hazard Happiness for Gold;Untempted by whole Worlds of GainTo stem the Billows of the Main.
The Merchant, when the Storm invades,Envies the Quiet of the Shades;But soon relaunches from the Shore,Dreading the Crime of being Poor!
Some careless waste the mirthful DayWith generous Wines, and wanton Play,Indulgent of the genial HourBy Spring, or Rill, in Shade, or Bow'r.
Some hear with Joy the clanging JarOf Trumpets, that alarm to War,While Matrons tremble at the BreathThat calls their Sons to Arms and Death.
The Sportsman, train'd in Storms, defiesThe chilling Blast, and freezing Skies:Unmindful of his Bride, in vainSoft Beauty pleads! along the PlainThe Stag he chases, or beguilesThe furious Boar into his Toyles.
For [1]you the blooming Ivy grows,Proud to adorn your learned Brows;Patron of Letters you arise,Grow to a God, and mount the Skies.
Humbly in breezy Shades I strayWhere Silvans dance, and Satyrs play;Contented to advance my Claim,Only o'er Men without a Name;Transcribing what the Muses singHarmonious to the Pipe or String.
But if indulgently you deignTo rank me with the Lyric Train,Aloft the tow'ring Muse shall riseOn bolder Wings, and gain the Skies.
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