TO MELPOMENE.
Horace
Him, O Melpomene, upon whom at his birth thou hast once looked with
favoring eye, the Isthmian contest shall not render eminent as a
wrestler; the swift horse shall not draw him triumphant in a Grecian
car; nor shall warlike achievement show him in the Capitol, a general
adorned with the Delian laurel, on account of his having quashed the
proud threats of kings: but such waters as flow through the fertile
Tiber, and the dense leaves of the groves, shall make him distinguished
by the Aeolian verse. The sons of Rome, the queen of cities, deign to
rank me among the amiable band of poets; and now I am less carped at by
the tooth of envy. O muse, regulating the harmony of the gilded shell! O
thou, who canst immediately bestow, if thou please, the notes of the
swan upon the mute fish! It is entirely by thy gift that I am marked
out, as the stringer of the Roman lyre, by the fingers of passengers;
that I breathe, and give pleasure (if I give pleasure), is yours.
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