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Sappho, v. 1, issue 4, March 1944
Page 11
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SAPPHO - - the magazine of verse HORACE: BOOK III ODE IX Theobald's Translation Horace: Whilst I was pleasing to your taste, Nor liklier youths your neck embrac'd, I lived more happy on love's throne Than Persia's monarch on his own! Lydia: Whilst you did for no other burn, Nor Lydia's charms for Chloe's spurn I flourish'd with a lofty name, And envy'd not great Ilia's fame. Horace: To Thracian Chloe, skill'd in song And on the lyre, I now belong. For her I wou'd not fear to die, Would death, in payment, pass her by! Lydia: Now Calais kindles my desire With torch alight with equal fire; For him the tomb I twice cou'd dare, Would death the graceful youth but spare! Horace: What if old love at last be woke To bind us in its memory'd yoke? If golden Chloe reign no more, And Lydia face an open door? Lydia: Tho' he the brightest star outbeam Whilst you with froth and choler teem With you my days I'd willing spend, And glad with you wou'd greet the end! Courtesy R H Barlow F T Laney 11
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SAPPHO - - the magazine of verse HORACE: BOOK III ODE IX Theobald's Translation Horace: Whilst I was pleasing to your taste, Nor liklier youths your neck embrac'd, I lived more happy on love's throne Than Persia's monarch on his own! Lydia: Whilst you did for no other burn, Nor Lydia's charms for Chloe's spurn I flourish'd with a lofty name, And envy'd not great Ilia's fame. Horace: To Thracian Chloe, skill'd in song And on the lyre, I now belong. For her I wou'd not fear to die, Would death, in payment, pass her by! Lydia: Now Calais kindles my desire With torch alight with equal fire; For him the tomb I twice cou'd dare, Would death the graceful youth but spare! Horace: What if old love at last be woke To bind us in its memory'd yoke? If golden Chloe reign no more, And Lydia face an open door? Lydia: Tho' he the brightest star outbeam Whilst you with froth and choler teem With you my days I'd willing spend, And glad with you wou'd greet the end! Courtesy R H Barlow F T Laney 11
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