Odes 1.10 (Gladstone): Mercuri Facunde

Grandson of Atlas, Mercury, 'twas thine,
The new-born man's rude manners to refine,
By speech to school the mind, by gracious game
To shape the frame.

Envoy of gods and mighty Jove their sire,
I sing thy praise, thou parent of the lyre;
A pilferer too, whene'er it pleased thy will,
With merry skill.

Thee yet a child Apollo threatened sore
Unless thou wouldst th' ill-gotten herd restore:
But when he found his quiver too was gone,
He smiled anon.

So Priam, carrying forth the Trojan wealth,
The proud Atridae and their camp by stealth
Eluded, and their watchfires all defied
With thee for guide.

In seats of bliss thou lodgest pious souls;
Thy wand the shadowy herd of ghosts controls,
Thou welcome guest, for gods to Hades given,
And gods of heaven.