Page:Q Horati Flacci Carminum librum quintum.djvu/47

 From Greece, though her prowess has perished, Not yet had her nightingales flown When her conquerors honoured and cherished Her music and made it their own. But scorning these delicate treasures Our minstrels have turned to the East For ragged and barbarous measures At dance and at feast.

No longer content with the mellow And exquisite tones of the lute They take for their model the bellow And howl of the man-eating brute. And, enamoured of mammoth dimensions, To strengthen the strings and the wind They borrow the monstrous inventions Of Egypt and Ind.

And still, as they rabidly rush on To spread the dominion of din, They multiply means of percussion— Brass, iron, and copper, and skin. For melodies simple and tender They reckon as infantile joys, And worship the strenuous splendour Of absolute Noise.

From trumpets that pierce like an arrow, And freeze all the brains in my skull, From cymbals that curdle my marrow I long for a merciful lull. 49