Odes 1.26 (Martin): Musis Amicus

Beloved by and loving the Muses
I fling all my sorrow and care
To the wind, that wherever it chooses
The troublesome freight it may bear.
I care not — not I — not a stiver,
Who in Scythia frozen and drear
'Neath the scourge of a tyrant may shiver,
Or who keeps Tiridates in fear.

O thou in pure springs who delightest,
Twine flowers of the sunniest glow,
Twine, gentle Pimplea, the brightest
Of wreaths for my Lamia's brow.
Without thee unskill'd are my numbers;
Then thou and thy sisterly choir
Wake for him the rare music that slumbers
Unknown in the Lesbian lyre!