Page:Odes and Carmen Saeculare.djvu/93

 For ever flow'd. At length have done With these soft sorrows; rather tell Of Cæsar's trophies newly won, And hoar Niphates' icy fell, And Medus' flood, 'mid conquer'd tribes Rolling a less presumptuous tide, And Scythians taught, as Rome prescribes, Henceforth o'er narrower steppes to ride.

ICINTUS, trust a seaman's lore: Steer not too boldly to the deep, Nor, fearing storms, by treacherous shore Too closely creep. Who makes the golden mean his guide, Shuns miser's cabin, foul and dark, Shuns gilded roofs, where pomp and pride Are envy's mark. With fiercer blasts the pine's dim height Is rock'd; proud towers with heavier fall Crash to the ground; and thunders smite The mountains tall. In sadness hope, in gladness fear 'Gainst coming change will fortify Your breast. The storms that Jupiter Sweeps o'er the sky