(_Fam._, XXIV, 10)
O thou whom the Italian world hails as prince of the lyric song, to
whom the Lesbian muse entrusted her lyre with its harmonious strings;
O thou whom the Tyrrhenian Sea stole from the Adriatic, and Etruria
from Apulia, and whom the Tiber claimed as its own, heeding not the
cries of the Aufidus, nor spurning thy obscure and humble origin;
sweet is it now to follow thee through secluded woodlands, to gaze
upon the spring water bubbling up in the dimly lighted dales, to
admire the purple hills and the verdant meadows, the cool lakes and
the dewy grottos.[93]
It is sweet to go with thee, whether thou dost propitiate Faunus
with his roaming flocks; or eagerly hasten to visit the impetuous
and fiery Bromius; or perform the secret rites of the golden goddess
related to the ivy-crowned Bacchus; or sing of Venus ever in need
of both. ’Tis a joy to accompany thee when thou singest of the
playful Nymphs and nimble Satyrs and of the Graces with their rosy,
naked bodies; or when thou dost sing the name and labors of the
indomitable Hercules; or of the helmeted Mars, another offspring
of incestuous Jove. ’Tis joyful to hear thee sing of the Aegis of
Minerva, spreading terror far and wide with its Gorgon-head; or of
the children of Leda, who sink beneath the waves and are the kind,
protecting constellation of mariners; or of Mercury, the illustrious
inventor of the lyre. How pleasing is it, when thou dost strike the
praises of golden-haired Apollo, and dost bathe his glorious locks
in the waters of the Xanthus; to hearken when thou dost extol his
sister, distinguished by the quiver and striking terror to the hearts
of the forest denizens, and when thou dost disclose the sacred dances
of the Pierides.[94]
Thou dost chisel out the characters of the ancient heroes as though
in material more lasting than marble. If thou but befriendest one,
thou dost pen in his behalf fresh words of everlasting and enduring
praise, such as time cannot erase. The spiritual spark of poets is
of itself sufficient, when kindled by favorable impulses, to create
undying pictures of men. It is due to these pen pictures that we
see, as though yet alive, those demigods Drusus and Scipio and the
rest through whose agency far-renowned Rome imposed her yoke upon
subjugated races. Among these heroes, like a sun gleaming with living
light, there shines forth pre-eminently the race of the Caesars.[95]
Be thou my leader, for I am eager to hear thee sing these strains.
Take me whither thou wilt. Lead me over the broad expanse of the sea
dotted with sails; to the cloud-encompassed peaks of mountains. Take
me from the channel of the flowing Tiber to where the Anio with its
banks cuts its way through the fields--a region pleasing to thee
formerly, when thou wert still of the living, and where I, musing, am
weaving this chaplet for thee, O Flaccus, our glory. Lead me whither
thou wilt: through forbidding forest darknesses, to the cold Algidus,
to the warm waters of Baiae, the Sabine Lake, the fields strewn with
flowers, and to Soracte’s peak white with snows. Bear me with thee to
Brundisium by the devious by-paths. I shall weary not; I shall gladly
guide my slow footsteps in the company of such bards. Neither time
nor tide will swerve me from my purpose. I shall march with equal
vigor, if mother Earth be great with crops yet unharvested, or the
dew be dried by the scorching rays of the sun, or the branches bend
beneath their weight of fruit, or the earth be stiff and slow with
cold. Under thy leadership I shall visit the shores of the Cyclades,
the roaring waves of Thracian Bosporus, the lonely deserts of torrid
Lybia, and the cold, stormy regions of far-off Caucasus.[96]
Wherever thou goest, whatever thou doest, pleases me. I am pleased
when thou dost so carefully rouse thy faithful friends by giving
virtue its due reward; when thou rendest vice with gnashing teeth,
and when, smiling, thou dost artfully peck at folly. I am pleased
when, singing sweetly, thou fillest thy song with tender words of
love; when with sharp and vigorous pen thou upbraidest the riotous
living of the old wanton; or when thou dost arraign the guilty city
and dost accurse the drawn swords and savage frenzy of the Quirites.
I rejoice when Maecenas is the burden of thy song--throughout thy
work the first and last; when thou dost criticise the poets of the
older school and dost disdain to tread in their footsteps; when thou
pourest into the ears of magnanimous Caesar praises of his newly
won honors. I am glad when, in one of thy poems, thou explainest to
Florus thy reasons for declining to write any more satires or lyrics;
when thou describest to Fuscus the joys of a country life and the
evils of a turbulent city, and explainest to him why the warlike
steed is the servant of man; glad, when thou teachest Crispus the
true use of wealth. I am pleased when thou dost tear Vergil away from
his unending grief and gently dost urge him to enjoy some relaxation
and a few moments of pleasure at the coming of spring; when thou
admonishest Hirpinus of the flight of time. I am pleased when thou
remindest Torquatus and, in a similar ode, Postumus of the fleeting
days and nights; when thou writest of old age stealthily creeping
upon us all with noiseless tread, of the shortness of life which is
gone even as we write, or of death which hastens after us with flying
feet.[97]
Who would not enraptured listen when thou assignest Augustus (though
still alive) to a place among the stars? or when, in accoutering
Mars, thou declarest the inadequacy of iron and hast recourse to
adamant? or when, as a conqueror, thou drivest along the Sacred Way
and Hill, dragging bands of foreign princes bound to the triumphal
chariots with fetters of gold, a victorious pomp which, feared
and detested by a certain proud queen, caused her to welcome the
inexorable sting of the asp? Who would not lend thee a willing ear,
when thou recountest how the laws of hospitality were dishonored by
the treacherous shepherd of Phrygia, and how from the quieted waves
there came to Paris the threatening prophecy of Nereus? or how Danae
is deceived by the shower of gold? or how the royal maiden, in spite
of her grievous laments, is borne away on the back of the horned
adulterer?[98]
Whether happy or alarmed, whether sad or angered, under any and all
conditions thou dost give pleasure: either when thou frettest the
anxious lover with manifold suspicions; or hurlest just imprecations
on the snake-haired, poisonous hags and on the vulgar herd; when,
free from cares, thou singest of Lalage; or when alone and with
unruffled brow thou dost put to flight that desperate wolf; or when
thou escapest the fall of the ill-omened tree, and the waves which
had been lashed to fury by Aeolian winds.[99]
When I saw thee reclining upon the fresh turf, hearkening to the
bubbling of the springs and to the songs of the birds, when I saw
thee plucking the flowerets from the matted field, weaving the
vinesprigs with the pliant osiers, touching the lyre with gentle
fingers, changing the measures with splendid mastery, and soothing
heaven itself with thy varied song--when I saw all this my eager mind
suddenly became the prey of a noble desire, which spared me not till
I had followed thee through all the recesses of the heaving sea, over
cliffs and crags, ’mid the perils of sea and land. On the remotest
confines of India I saw arise the gleaming steeds of the sun, and
then did I behold them sink in the Western Ocean. In thy company
I have roamed across the regions of the north wind and across the
regions of the south wind. And now, whether thou leadest me to the
Islands of the Blessed, or draggest me to wave-resounding Antium, or
takest me to the citadels of Romulus, I shall follow thee with most
eager mind, so happily am I drawn captive by the chords of thy lyre,
so soothing is to me the bitter sweetness of thy pen.[100]