Odes 1.34 (Gladstone): Parcus Deorum

I rare and stingy worshipper,
In silly sapience while I err,
Now face about, my steps retrace,
And paths too long forgotten pace.

For Jove, whose common use enshrouds
His lightning fire in folded clouds,
Once now his thunder-steeds hath driven
And lightning-car through cloudless heaven,

Then wayward streams, and solid ground,
Then Atlas from his farthest bound,
Shake; aye and Styx the tale can tell,
And lowest depths of hateful hell.

God can reverse the high and low,
Can greatest lessen, darkest show,
And Fortune's hissing swoop may veer,
Departing thence, alighting here.