Chapter XXVIII: Book IV: ODE I. To Venus

No more of War:--Dread Cytherea, cease;
Thy feeble soldier sues for peace.
Alas! I am not now that man of might,
As when fair Cynara bade me fight.
Leave, Venus, leave! consider my gray hairs
Snow'd on by fifty tedious years.
My forts are slighted, and my bulwarks down:
Go, and beleaguer some strong town.
Make thy attempts on Maximus; there's game
To entertain thy sword and flame. 10
There Peace and Plenty dwell: He's of the Court,
Ignorant what 'tis to storm a fort:
There sound a charge; he's generous and young,
He's unconcern'd, lusty, and strong:
He of thy silken banners will be proud,
And of thy conquests talk aloud.
His bags are full: the lad thou mayst prefer
To be thy treasurer in war.
He may erect gold statues to thy name,
And be the trumpet of thy fame: 20
Thy Deity the zealous youth will then invoke,
And make thy beauteous altars smoke.
With voice and instruments thy praise shall sound,
Division he, and Love the ground;
There, twice a day the gamesome company
Of lads and lasses in debvoir to thee,
Like Mars's priests their numbers shall advance,
And sweetly sing, and nimbly dance.
But as for me! I'm quite dispirited,
I court nor maid, nor boy to bed! 30
I cannot drink, nor bind a garland on,
Alas! my dancing days are done!
But hold--Why do these tears steal from my eyes?
My lovely Ligurinus, why?
Why does my falt'ring tongue disguise my voice
With rude and inarticulate noise?
O Ligurin! 'tis thou that break'st my rest,
Methinks I grasp thee in my breast:
Then I pursue thee in my passionate dreams
O'er pleasant fields and purling streams. 40

[IV. i. 7 'slighted' = 'razed,' the original sense of 'to make
level'.]

[Line: 24 I confess this line beat me at first. But no doubt
it has a musical sense, for in music both 'division' (notes
run together) and 'ground' (a recurrent motive) have technical
meanings. The punctuation above, Mr. Simpson's, makes this
clearer.]

[Line: 26 'De_b_voir' is worth keeping.]

BOOK IV. ODE X. _To Ligurinus, a beauteous Youth._

'Tis true, thou yet art fair, my Ligurine,
No down as yet environs cheek or chin:
But when those hairs which now do flow, shall fall,
And when thy rosy cheeks turn wan and pale:
When in thy glass another Ligurine thou
Shalt spy, and scarce thy bearded self shall know;
Then thou (despis'd) shalt sing this piteous song;
Why am I old? or why was ever young?