Ivy, the reward of learned brows, equals me with the gods above: the
cool grove, and the light dances of nymphs and satyrs, distinguish me
from the crowd; if neither Euterpe withholds her pipe, nor Polyhymnia
disdains to tune the Lesbian lyre. But, if you rank me among the lyric
poets, I shall tower to the stars with my exalted head.

* * * * *



ODE II.

TO AUGUSTUS CAESAR


Enough of snow and dreadful hail has the Sire now sent upon the earth,
and having hurled [his thunderbolts] with his red right hand against the
sacred towers, he has terrified the city; he has terrified the nations,
lest the grievous age of Pyrrha, complaining of prodigies till then
unheard of, should return, when Proteus drove all his [marine] herd to
visit the lofty mountains; and the fishy race were entangled in the elm
top, which before was the frequented seat of doves; and the timorous
deer swam in the overwhelming flood. We have seen the yellow Tiber, with
his waves forced back with violence from the Tuscan shore, proceed to
demolish the monuments of king [Numa], and the temples of Vesta; while
he vaunts himself the avenger of the too disconsolate Ilia, and the
uxorious river, leaving his channel, overflows his left bank,
notwithstanding the disapprobation of Jupiter.