Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) trans. John Addington Symonds
Aequam memento rebus in arduis
seruare mentem, non secus in bonis
ab insolentia temperatam
laetitia, moriture Delli,

seu maestus omni tempore uixeris,
seu te in remoto gramine per dies
festos reclinatum bearis
interiore nota Falerni.

Quo pinus ingens albaque populus
umbram hospitalem consociare amant
ramis? Quid obliquo laborat
lympha fugax trepidare riuo?

Huc uina et unguenta et nimium breuis
flores amoenae ferre iube rosae,
dum res et aetas et sororum
fila trium patiuntur atra.

Cedes coemptis saltibus et domo
uillaque flauus quam Tiberis lauit,
cedes et exstructis in altum
diuitiis potietur heres.

Diuesne prisco natus ab Inacho
nil interest an pauper et infima
de gente sub diuo moreris,
uictima nil miserantis Orci.

Omnes eodem cogimur, omnium
uersata urna serius ocius
sors exitura et nos in aeternum
exsilium impositura cumbae.
In trouble keep your courage high
And calm, but yet in happier fate
Be not with rapture too elate -
For one day, Dellius, you must die.

Whether through dreary days you pine,
Or on the far sequestered grass
Luxurious holidays you pass
Quaffing your old Falernian wine:

I know the spot - by poplar pale
And lofty pines a friendly shade
With intertwining brances made;
And hard by struggles through the vale

The winding water: - there we'll set
Wines and rich perfumes; boys shall bring
Roses, too briefly blossoming;
While youth and Fortune smile, while yet

Their dark threads spin the sisters three.
Ah me! your parks, your pleasant home
Washed by the Tiber's tawny foam
You'll leave; and all your wealth shall be

But for your heir. If rich and one
Of Inachus' old line and name,
Or poor and basest born, the same
Your doom to Orcus pitying none.

To the grim ferry all must go;
Our lots are cast into one urn,
And soon or late comes out our turn
For endless banishment below.

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