Epigram XXVI. — On Augustus

Phoebus, thou lord of song and thou, Tritonia, queen of war, thou also, Victory, down-swooping in dizzy flight, deck with a two-fold diadem an unknitted brow; bring garlands, those which are gifts in peace, those which are prizes in fight. Mighty in war and eloquence, Augustus-' doubly wins renown, so that he claims a two-fold title, since by the Muses' aid he allays wars and by Apollo's restrains the Getic Mars. 'Midst arms and Huns ferocious and Sauromatae dangerous in stealthy whatever rest he has from hours of war, in camp he lavishes it all upon the Clarian Muses. Scarce has he laid aside his swift arrows, those whirring darts: 'tis to the Muses' shafts he turns his hand, repose lie knows not, and setting the reed to new employ essays a song: yet 'tis a song not soft of strain; the frightful wars of Odrysian Mars and the prowess of the Thracian warrior-maid he treats anew. Rejoice, thou son of Aeacus! Thou art sung once more by a lofty bard and thou art blessed with a Roman Homer.