I.
[3]To his border's guardian Power
When he spreads the vernal feast.
Then bleeds the kid, in lucky hour,
From the hungry wolf releas'd[4];
Then round the primal lamb's sweet flesh is seen
The crisp salubrious herbage of the green;
And, from loaded boughs descending,
Unctuous olives richly blending;—
These form the dainties of his festal day,
When every heart expands, and every face is gay.
II.
Circled by a jocund train,
With joy the new-shorn Flock he hears
Come bleating homeward o'er the russet plain;
While slow, with languid neck, the weary Steers
Th' inverted ploughshare drag along,
Mindless of the Shepherd's song;
Then, round his smiling Household-Gods, surveys
A numerous, menial Group, the proof of prosperous days.
I.
'T was thus, amidst his ill-got wealth,
The Roman Usurer justly thought,
Resolv'd to purchase peace and health,
And live, at length, as Nature taught;
No more with subtle avarice to lend,
Oppressive foe beneath the name of friend!
Now grasping views, for once, rejected,
He on the [5]Ides his sums collected,
But on the [6]Calends, lo! with anxious pain,
On the same interest vast, he sends them forth again.
II.
Thus can lust of gold controul,
Tho' the Heart urge a wiser choice,
By force of habit lord it o'er the Soul,
And stifle e'en Conviction's powerful voice.
See, with sighs the Miser yield
The promis'd joys of wood, and field;
Against experienc'd disappointment, try
With Gold to purchase that, which Gold can never buy!
[1]: The Reader will remember, that in the course of these Paraphrases the design has been avowed of stretching the pictures of Horace upon a wider canvass, of filling up what are so often mere outlines. If learned eyes ever glance over this Ode, it is hoped they will not frown upon the many circumstances and reflections which have been added, upon a presumption, induced by the pleasing nature of the subject, since the Roman customs and manners are preserved with fidelity. Those customs and manners, resulting from their festal, gay, and picturesque Religion, cannot surely be presented without proving interesting. Yet, to create this interest, stronger and more circumstantial description seems required than can be found in Horace, if the Paraphraser may be allowed to judge of the poetic feelings of others by her own. It was doubtless sufficient for his contemporary Readers, and for those of some succeeding Generations, that he slightly alluded to events and ceremonies, which were familiar to their recollection. In our day more precision is demanded, at least by those who have poetic taste without knowledge of the dead languages, or intimacy with the national and domestic customs of that Time, and of that People. Also, to strengthen this necessary interest in the mind of the Reader, it must be eligible to infuse a more liberal portion of those sentiments and ideas, which speak to the Heart in every Age, and in every Climate.
To Scholars the fascinating music of the Latin tones and measures, and the elegance with which Horace knew to select, and to regulate them, recompense the obscurity which is so frequent in his allusions, and in the violence of his transitions from one subject to another, between which the line of connexion is with difficulty traced. What is called a faithful translation of these Odes cannot, therefore, be interesting to unlearned Lovers of Verse, how alive soever they may be to poetic beauty.—A literal translation in the plainest prose, will always shew the precise quantity of real poetic matter, contained in any Production, independent of the music of its intonation, and numbers, and the elegance of its style.—The prose translations of Horace' Odes evince that their merit does not consist in the plenitude of poetic matter, or essence, constituted by circumstances of startling interest, by exalted sentiment, impassioned complaint, or appeal, distinct and living imagery, happy apposite allusion, and sublime metaphor; but in certain elegant verbal felicities and general charm of style, produced by the force and sweetness of the Latin Language, subservient to the fine ear, the lively and exquisite taste of Horace. These are the graces which we find so apt to evaporate in Translation, while genuine POETIC MATTER, as defined above, is capable of being transfused into any other Language without losing a particle of its excellence, provided the Chemist, who undertakes the operation, has genius and skill. The more this POETIC MATTER in an Author abounds, the more close and faithful a Translator, who has judgment, may venture to render his version—but to transfuse merely verbal felicities into another Language is an attempt scarcely less fruitless than to clasp the Rainbow. A kindred nothingness, as to poetic value, ensues. There is, however, a considerable, though not abounding quantity of poetic matter, or essence in Horace; but it bears no proportion to the profusion of those evanescent glories, which will not bear the grasp of another Language. To give that essence in increased quantity, and in the freedom of unimitative numbers, is attempted in this selection. Dryden and Pope translated upon that plan, and hence their Paraphrases have the spirit of original Poems.