Haec pagina emendata et bis lecta est
(Horace, Car. iii. 1. 17-21)
- When o’er a guilty head there hangs
- A naked sword suspended high,
- In vain the sumptuous banquet’s spread,
- No dulcet strain will close the eye.
(Horace, Car. iii. 5. 18-22)
- In Punic shrines mine eye hath seen
- Standards and arms by cravens lost;
- Mine eye hath seen on freemen’s backs
- With shameful bonds the forearms crossed.
(Horace, Car. iii. 2. 17-24)
- True worth, that knoweth not defeat,
- Shines on with fadeless glory blest,
- Nor takes nor lays aside its crown
- At the capricious crowd’s behest.
- True worth, for the Immortal few
- To heaven points out a shining way,
- And mounting on aspiring wing,
- Spurns sordid mob and sodden clay.
(Horace, Car. i. 9. 1-4)
- See how Soracte rears his head
- With snowy crown of dazzling white,
- While forests scarce sustain their load;
- Congealed the very streams in flight!