The wanton youths less violently shake thy fastened windows with their
redoubled knocks, nor do they rob you of your rest; and your door, which
formerly moved its yielding hinges freely, now sticks lovingly to its
threshold. Less and less often do you now hear: "My Lydia, dost thou
sleep the live-long night, while I your lover am dying?" Now you are an
old woman, it will be your turn to bewail the insolence of rakes, when
you are neglected in a lonely alley, while the Thracian wind rages at
the Interlunium: when that hot desire and lust, which is wont to render
furious the dams of horses, shall rage about your ulcerous liver: not
without complaint, that sprightly youth rejoice rather in the verdant
ivy and growing myrtle, and dedicate sapless leaves to Eurus, the
companion of winter.

* * * * *



ODE XXVI.

TO AELIUS LAMIA.


A friend to the Muses, I will deliver up grief and fears to the wanton
winds, to waft into the Cretan Sea; singularly careless, what king of a
frozen region is dreaded under the pole, or what terrifies Tiridates. O
sweet muse, who art delighted with pure fountains, weave together the
sunny flowers, weave a chaplet for my Lamia. Without thee, my praises
profit nothing. To render him immortal by new strains, to render him