ODE III.

TO QUINTUS DELLIUS.


O Dellius, since thou art born to die, be mindful to preserve a temper
of mind even in times of difficulty, as well an restrained from insolent
exultation in prosperity: whether thou shalt lead a life of continual
sadness, or through happy days regale thyself with Falernian wine of the
oldest date, at case reclined in some grassy retreat, where the lofty
pine and hoary poplar delight to interweave their boughs into a
hospitable shade, and the clear current with trembling surface purls
along the meandering rivulet. Hither order [your slaves] to bring the
wine, and the perfumes, and the too short-lived flowers of the grateful
rose, while fortune, and age; and the sable threads of the three sisters
permit thee. You must depart from your numerous purchased groves; from
your house also, and that villa, which the yellow Tiber washes, you must
depart: and an heir shall possess these high-piled riches. It is of no
consequence whether you are the wealthy descendant of ancient Inachus,
or whether, poor and of the most ignoble race, you live without a
covering from the open air, since you are the victim of merciless Pluto.
We are all driven toward the same quarter: the lot of all is shaken in
the urn; destined sooner or later to come forth, and embark us in
[Charon's] boat for eternal exile.

* * * * *