Odes 3.2 (Creech): Angustam Amice

LEt vigorous Boys be train'd to bear
The streights of Poverty in War;
Be hardly bred, improve thy Force,
And bravely gall the Parthian Horse;
And let the Persians tremble at his Spear:

And let him live, and lie abroad
Mid'st Dangers, Slaughters, Fears, and Blood;
Be tost with all the Storms of Fate,
And hard'ned up to prop the State;
His Country save, and rise into a God:

Him from their Walls, when fierce in War,
Let Tyrants Mothers view, and fear;
And let their Brides despairing sigh
Ah may not my unskilful Spouse
That furious Lion madly rouse,
How fierce He drives, and how our Armies fly!

He nobly Bleeds, he bravely Dies
That falls his Countries Sacrifice;
The flying Youth swift Fate o're takes
It strikes them thro the trembling backs,
And runs too fast for nimble Cowardice.

Vertue, unlearn'd to bear the base
And shameful baffle of disgrace,
Nor takes, nor quits the tottering Throne,
As fickle Crowds shall smile or frown;
Nor from their wavering Breath receives the place:

True Vertue that unbarrs the Skie
To those that are too brave to Die,
Thro wondrous ways doth upward go,
Scorns the base Earth and Crowd below;
And with a soaring Wing still mounts on high:

And just Rewards the Gods decree
For fair, obedient Piety;
Not He that scorns or scoffs His God,
Or blabs his Mysteries abroad,
Shall live in the same House, or sail with me:

Oft Jove doth heedless Thunder throw,
And mix the Good and Bad below:
But lame Revenge still stalks behind,
Do's slowly dodg the guilty mind,
And only stays to take the surer blow: