Living
To His Attendant
From Translations from Horace
Living
I hate the Persian’s costly pride:
The wreaths with bands of linden tied--
These, boy, delight me not;
Nor where the lingering roses bide
Seek thou for me the spot.
For me be naught but myrtle twined--
The modest myrtle, sweet to bind
Alike thy brows and mine,
While thus I quaff the bowl, reclined
Beneath th’ o’erarching vine.
✦ ✦ ✦
Codex Note
Translated by Felicia Hemans from Horace, Odes, Book I, Ode 38.
Cite this poem
MLA
Hemans, Felicia. “To His Attendant.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/hemans/602/.
Chicago
Hemans, Felicia. “To His Attendant.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/hemans/602/.
Read this poem with the Codex →