Odes 1.11 (Creech): Tu Ne Quaesieris

AH do not strive too much to know
My dear Luconoe,
What the kind Gods design to do
With Me and Thee.
Ah do not You consult the Stars,
Contented bear thy doom,
Rather than thus increase thy fears
For what will come:

Whether they'l give one Winter more,
Or else make this thy last;
Which breaks the Waves on Tyrrhene shore
With many a blast,

Be Wise, and Drink; cut off long Cares
From thy contracted Span,
Nor stretch extensive hopes and fears
Beyond a Man:

E'en whil'st we speak the Envious time
Doth make swift hast away,
Then seize the present, use thy prime,
Nor trust another Day.