Ode CXVII: I have become sober, and lightness

I have become sober, and lightness has left me — by the life of thy father! — a long, long leaving:

No more am I ready in the strife of reviling, nor greedy to feed on the flesh of my friends.

Erstwhile there outstripped me no rival, though distant, in following up hatreds, when that was my bent ;

I wielded, to counter the chances of Fortune, an honour unblemished, a far-flashing sword,

And the stroke of a keen tongue as sharp as a spear-point, and a lance long of shaft, that vibrates to my hand,

And a full-flowing mail-coat, the best that men fashion, — thou mayst hear the swords ring as they smite it — in vain!

Like a pool which the by-sweeping West-wind has ruffled —flowing skirts trail behind its lord as he goes.