Odes 2.20 (Gladstone): Non Usitata

No weak, no vulgar wing shall bear
Me, poet-bird, through upper air,
As, quitting earth for good, I so
Leave envy and the towns below.

If of poor parentage I came,
I, whom 'beloved 'thou deign'st to name,
Maecenas, such can never lie
In Stygian depths, such cannot die.

Mine under-limbs a roughened skin,
White, and a bird's, to show begin;
And downy feathers of a wing
From fingers and from shoulder spring.

The moaning Bosporus to espy,
I will th' Icarian flight outfly,
A bird of song; the Syrtes pass,
And farthest fields of Boreas.

Dacia, that masks her fear of Rome,
Colchian, and far Gelonian home,
Who dwells in Spain, who drinks of Rhone,
Shall know me, and my fame shall own.

So let mine empty funeral show
Nor plaint, nor dirge, nor moaning know:
Dispense with futile noise; and save
All idle honours of the grave.