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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
To Quintus Dellius
By Horace (65–8 B.C.)
 
Paraphrase from ‘Echoes from the Sabine Farm,’ by Eugene and Roswell Martin Field

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.        5
 
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.        10
 
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.        15
 
One ghostly boat shall sometime bear
From scenes of mirthfulness or care
    Each fated human soul,—
Shall waft and leave its burden where
    The waves of Lethe roll.        20
 
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.        25
 
 
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