Odes 2.16 (Creech): Otium Divos

FOr ease the Seaman asks the Gods
When tost in the Egaean Floods;
When darkness spreads to heighten fears,
And not one friendly Star appears:

For ease the Warlike Thracians plead,
The Persian and the quiver'd Mede;
For ease too precious to be sold
For costly Gems, or bought with Gold:

For neither Power nor Wealth controul
The sad disorders of the Soul,
Nor yet remove the Cares that wait
About the Palace of the Great:

Blest he with little, on whose thrifty Board
That Salt still shines that call'd his Father Lord,
No vexing fears his Breast can seize,
No sordid Lust will break his ease:

Why these extended Cares, and Strife,
And trouble for so short a Life?
Why do we ply our Sails and Oars,
And fondly visit forreign Shores?
Can he that flies his Country find
That he can leave himself behind?

"For baneful Care will still prevail,
"And overtake us under sail;
It dogs the Horseman close behind,
More swift than Roes, or Stormy Wind:

A man contented with his present doom
Hates to look on for what's to come;
With mirth he sweetens bitter Fate;
There is no perfect happy State:

The stout Achilles dy'd in hast,
Long Age did old Tithonus wast;
Those years swift time denies to Thee
Perhaps his hand shall reach to me:

Round Thee ten thousand Heifers low,
Stout Oxen bend beneath thy Plow;
In his gilt Coach neigh generous Mares,
The Purple dies what e're he wears.

A Farm as large as my desire
With some few heats of Lyrick fire
On me hath stubborn Fate bestow'd,
With Pride enough to Scorn the Crowd: