Odes 4.8 (Gladstone): Donarem Pateras

Goblets and vases would I freely give
To them that with me, Censorinus, live;
And tripods, prize of valiant Greeks. Nor worst
Would be thy portion, did my store-rooms burst
With what Parrhasius or what Scopas wrought,
Through colours one, and one through marble taught
Or gods or men in likeness to present.
But such are not my treasures, nor thy bent.
Not these delights thou cravest; but for song,
Which I can give (and name the price), dost long.
True, words on marbles graven by the State
Grant life and breath to the departed great;
Yet neither these, nor worsted foes' alarms,
Nor to have baffled Hannibal in arms,
Nor impious Carthage, burned by him who bore
His well-earned name from Afric's conquered shore-
None more avails than our Calabrian Muse.
If History fail, good deeds their guerdon lose.
But for our voice, if niggardly it were,
How would the son of Mars and Ilia fare?
How Aeacus, whom might of minstrels rare,
Their grace, their favour, saved from the abyss?
Men worthy praise the Muse from dying frees,
And plants in heaven. So sturdy Hercules
Sits at the feasts on high by Jove's decrees:
So Leda's twins, bright-shining, at their beck
Oft have delivered stricken barks from wreck:
And so, with vine-clad brows, doth Bacchus bless
His votary's prayer, and bring it to success.