ODES - IV.7 THE SNOWS ARE FLED AWAY ...
Horace (Q. Horatius Flaccus) trans. A.E. Housman
Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis
.......arboribusque comae;
mutat terra vices et decrescentia ripas
.......flumina praetereunt;

Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet
.......ducere nuda choros.
Inmortalia ne speres, monet annus et almum
.......quae rapit hora diem:

frigora mitescunt Zephyris, ver proterit aestas,
.......interitura simul
pomifer autumnus fruges effuderit, et mox
.......bruma recurrit iners.

Damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae:
.......nos ubi decidimus
quo pius Aeneas, quo Tullus dives et Ancus,
.......pulvis et umbra sumus.

Quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae
.......tempora di superi?
Cuncta manus avidas fugient heredis, amico
.......quae dederis animo.

Cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos
.......fecerit arbitria,
non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te
.......restituet pietas

Infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum
.......liberat Hippolytum,
nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro
.......vincula Pirithoo.
The snows are fled away, leaves on the shaws
And grasses in the mead renew their birth,
The river to the river-bed withdraws,
And altered is the fashion of the earth.

The Nymphs and Graces three put off their fear
And unapparelled in the woodland play.
The swift hour and the brief prime of the year
Say to the soul, Thou wast not born for aye.

Thaw follows frost; hard on the heel of spring
Treads summer sure to die, for hard on hers
Comes autumn, with his apples scattering;
Then back to wintertide, when nothing stirs.

But oh, whate'er the sky-led seasons mar,
Moon upon moon rebuilds it with her beams:
Come we where Tullus and where Ancus are,
And good Aeneas, we are dust and dreams.

Torquatus, if the gods in heaven shall add
The morrow to the day, what tongue has told?
Feast then thy heart, for what thy heart has had
The fingers of no heir will ever hold.

When thou descendest once the shades among,
The stern assize and equal judgment o'er,
Not thy long lineage nor thy golden tongue,
No, nor thy righteousness, shall friend thee more.

Night holds Hippolytus the pure of stain,
Diana steads him nothing, he must stay;
And Theseus leaves Pirithöus in the chain
The love of comrades cannot take away.

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