LET US HAVE PEACE
| In maudlin spite let Thracians fight Above their bowls of liquor; But such as we, when on a spree, Should never brawl and bicker! These angry words and clashing swords Are quite de trop, I'm thinking; Brace up, my boys, and hush your noise, And drown your wrath in drinking. Aha, 't is fine,—this mellow wine With which our host would dope us! Now let us hear what pretty dear Entangles him of Opus. I see you blush,—nay, comrades, hush! Come, friend, though they despise you, Tell me the name of that fair dame,— Perchance I may advise you. O wretched youth! and is it truth You love that fickle lady? I, doting dunce, courted her once; Since when, she's reckoned shady! |
TO QUINTUS DELLIUS
|
Be tranquil, Dellius, I pray; For though you pine your life away With dull complaining breath, Or speed with song and wine each day, Still, still your doom is death. Where the white poplar and the pine In glorious arching shade combine, And the brook singing goes, Bid them bring store of nard and wine And garlands of the rose. Let's live while chance and youth obtain; Soon shall you quit this fair domain Kissed by the Tiber's gold, And all your earthly pride and gain Some heedless heir shall hold. One ghostly boat shall some time bear From scenes of mirthfulness or care Each fated human soul,— Shall waft and leave its burden where The waves of Lethe roll. So come, I prithee, Dellius mine; Let's sing our songs and drink our wine In that sequestered nook Where the white poplar and the pine Stand listening to the brook. |