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It was usual to sacrifice to Faunus, the Latin representative of the Greek Pan, in spring, though his great festival did not take place until the nones of December.

FAUNUS, who lovest nymphs that flee,
My bounds and sunny property
Deign to pace over tenderly,

Leaving unhurt these lambs of mine;

Since on the year's last day is killed
A kid: with fragrance thence distilled,
Smokes thine old altar: and are filled
Love's boon-companion cups with wine.

The whole flock sports on grassy mead
When back December's nones are led;
With idling kine the fields are spread,
And villagers in festal round.

The wolf 'mid fearless lambkins plays,
The forest strews for thee its sprays,
The ditcher his delight displays,
Thrice smiting the detested ground.


FAUNE, Nympharum fugientum amator,
Per meos fines et aprica rura
Lenis incedas, abeasque parvis
Aequus alumnis :

Si tener pleno cadit haedus anno,
Larga nec desunt Veneris sodali
Vina craterae, vetus ara multo
Fumat odore.

Ludit herboso pecus omne campo, Cum tibi Nonae redeunt Decembres;

Festus in pratis vacat otioso

Cum bove pagus.

Inter audaces lupus errat agnos:
Spargit agrestes tibi silva frondes:
Gaudet invisam pepulisse fossor

Ter pede terram.

To enter into the spirit of this lively effusion we may suppose Horace to have been invited to an entertainment given in honour of Murena's installation in the college of augurs, and the host to have kept the party waiting for supper while he treated them to long prosy stories out of Greek mythology, which Horace suddenly interrupted by bursting forth with the following strain. The cyathus referred to in lines 11-15 was a ladle with which the drink was passed from the bowl to the cups. I imagine that cups of various sizes were on the table, some large enough for nine, others for only three cyaths, and that Horace, when calling for bumpers, bade the servant give to each guest a goblet, of three or nine cyaths according to his taste.

By how much later lived than Inachus
Codrus, for fatherland not fearing death,
You prate, and of the house of Aeacus,
And wars waged sacred Ilium beneath :
But at what price per cask is Chian sold,
Who shall unchill the water, who afford
Us house-room; at what hour, from cold
Relieved, we shall have supper, not a word.
Bumpers, boy, bumpers; look alive!
One for new moon, for midnight one,
One for Murena, augur, give:
Into the goblets, thereupon,
Ladles-full pouring, nine or three,
As may with several taste agree.

The bard who the uneven Muses

Enamoured courts, three tripled chooses.


QUANTUM distet ab Inacho

Codrus, pro patria non timidus mori, Narras, et genus Aeaci,

Et pugnata sacro bella sub Ilio: Quo Chium pretio cadum

Mercemur; quis aquam temperet ignibus;

Quo praebente domum, et quota

Pelignis caream frigoribus, taces.

Da lunae propere novae,

Da noctis mediae, da, puer, auguris Murenae; tribus aut novem

Miscentur cyathis pocula commodis. Qui Musas amat impares,

Ternos ter cyathos attonitus petet

Vates. Tres prohibet supra

Rixarum metuens tangere Gratia

Each of the naked sister Graces,

Fearful of broils that leave their traces,
Consent to more than three refuses.
Madness be mine! Why, Phrygian flute,

Why cease its breathings? Wherefore mute
Hang up together pipe and lute?

I hate your niggard handfuls.


Shower roses. Let the jovial sound
Of revel, envious Lycus hear,

And her, the old fellow's ill-matched dear.
Thou, Teleph, rich in glossy hair,
Thou, as the star of evening fair,
Thou art well-ripened Rhode's aim;
While I of Glycera's love despair
Consuming with a lingering flame.

Good judges pronounce the picture here represented to be very happily painted. The subject, however, is not a pleasant one to contemplate.

SEE you not, Pyrrhus, at what risk you ravish
From the Gaetulic lioness her young ones?
Presently will you, spiritless despoiler,

Slink from the struggle,

When the opposing bands of youthful hunters
She shall break through, seeking her fair Nearchus.
Fierce the dispute, whether to you or her fall

More of the booty.

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