ODE XIX.

TO TELEPHUS.


How far Codrus, who was not afraid to die for his country, is removed
from Inachus, and the race of Aeacus, and the battles also that were
fought at sacred Troy--[these subjects] you descant upon; but at what
price we may purchase a hogshead of Chian; who shall warm the water [for
bathing]; who finds a house: and at what hour I am to get rid of these
Pelignian colds, you are silent. Give me, boy, [a bumper] for the new
moon in an instant, give me one for midnight, and one for Murena the
augur. Let our goblets be mixed up with three or nine cups, according to
every one's disposition. The enraptured bard, who delights in the
odd-numbered muses, shall call for brimmers thrice three. Each of the
Graces, in conjunction with the naked sisters, fearful of broils,
prohibits upward of three. It is my pleasure to rave; why cease the
breathings of the Phrygian flute? Why is the pipe hung up with the
silent lyre? I hate your niggardly handfuls: strew roses freely. Let the
envious Lycus hear the jovial noise; and let our fair neighbor,
ill-suited to the old Lycus, [hear it.] The ripe Rhode aims at thee,
Telephus, smart with thy bushy locks; at thee, bright as the clear
evening star; the love of my Glycera slowly consumes me.

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ODE XX.