Epodes 1 (Creech): Ibis Liburnis

MY Lord, my best, and dearest Friend,
The chiefest Bulwark of the State;
In tall Liburnian Ships defend
Great Caesar's Cause, and prop his Fate.

Before his danger thrust your own:
But what shall He that breaths in You,
That scorns to live when You are gone,
What shall forsaken Horace do?

Shall I sit down and take my Ease?
But without You what joys delight?
Or steel my softness, stem the Seas,
Or bolder grow, and dare to fight?

Or shall I arm my feeble breast,
And wait on You thro Alpine Snow,
Or farthest Regions of the West,
Where Caesar bids the Valiant go?

You ask why thus I boldly press,
And what should feeble I do there,
My fear, My Lord, will be the less;
For absence still increases fear.

Thus Birds on Wing are most affraid
That Snakes will come when they're away,
Tho present they're too weak to aid,
And save the easy Callow prey.

I would be stout, discard my fears,
The greatest dangers bravely prove,
And venture this or other Wars
In hopes, my Lord, to keep your Love.

But not to have more Oxen groan
Beneath my Plows, nor feed more Swains;
Nor yet as Heat or Cold comes on,
To drive my Sheep to other Plains:

Not to enlarge my Country Seat,
Or get vast heaps of shining Ore;
Your bounty, Sir, hath made me great,
And furnish'd with sufficient store.

I do not heaps of Gold desire,
To hide, and have no heart to use,
As Chremes did; nor Wealth require
On baser Lusts to be profuse.