Odes 4.4 (Martin): Qualem Ministrum

Like as the thunder-bearing bird,
(On whom o'er all the fowls of air
Dominion was by Jove conferr'd,
Because with loyal care
He bore away to heaven young Ganymede the fair,)

Whom native vigour and the rush
Of youth have spurr'd to quit the nest,
And skies of blue, in springtide's flush
Entice aloft to breast
The gales he fear'd before his lordly plumes were drest,

Now swooping, eager for his prey,
Spreads havoc through the flutter'd fold, —
Straight, fired by love of food and fray,
In grapple fierce and bold
The struggling dragons rends ev'n in their rocky hold:

Or like the lion's whelp, but now
Wean'd from his tawny mother's side,
By tender kidling on the brow
Of some green slope espied,
Whose unflesh'd teeth she knows will in her blood be dyed;

So dread, so terrible In war
Our noble Drusus shew'd, when through
The Rhaetian Alpine glens afar
His conquering eagles flew,
And swiftly the appall'd Vindelici o'erthrew.

Whence came their custom, — in the night
Of farthest time it flourish'd there, —
With Amazonian axe to fight,
To question I forbear;
Nor everything to know, may any mortal dare;

But this I know; their hosts, that still,
Where'er they came, victorious fought,
In turn by that young hero's skill
Revanquish'd, have been taught
To feel what marvels may of enterprise be wrought

By valiant heart and vigorous head.
In home auspicious train'd to power,
What by the noble spirit fed
In Nero's sons by our
Augustus, who on them a father's care did shower.

'Tis of the brave and good alone
That good and brave men are seed;
The virtues, which their sires have shewn,
Are found in steer and steed;
Nor do the eagles fierce the gentle ringdove breed.

Yet training quickens power inborn,
And culture nerves the soul for fame;
But he must live a life of scorn,
Who bears a noble name,
Yet blurs it with the soil of infamy and shame.

What thou, Rome, dost the Neros owe,
Let dark Metaurus' river say,
And Asdrubal, thy vanquish'd foe,
And that auspicious day,
Which through the scatter'd gloom broke forth with smiling ray.

When joy again to Latium came,
Nor longer through her towns at ease
The fatal Lybian swept, like flame
Among the forest trees;
Or Eurus' headlong gust across Sicilian seas.

Thenceforth, for with success they toil'd,
Rome's youth in vigour wax'd amain,
And temples ravaged and despoil'd
By Punic hordes profane
Upraised within their shrines beheld their gods again.

Till spoke false Hannibal at length;
"Like stags, of ravening wolves the prey,
Why rush to grapple with their strength,
From whom to steal away
The loftiest triumph is, they leave for us to-day?

"That race, Inflexible as brave,
From Ilium quench'd in flames who bore
Across the wild Etruscan wave
Their babes, their grandsires hoar,
And all their sacred things, to the Ausonian shore,

"Like oak, by sturdy axes lopp'd
Of all its boughs, which once the brakes
Of shaggy Algidus o'ertopp'd,
Its loss its glory makes,
And from the very steel fresh strength and spirit takes.

"Not Hydra, cleft through all its trunk,
With fresher vigour wax'd and spread,
Till even Alcides' spirit shrunk;
Nor yet hath Colchis dread,
Or Echionean Thebes more fatal monster bred.

"In ocean plunge it, and more bright
It rises; scatter it, and lo!
Its unscathed victors it will smite
With direful overthrow,
And Rome's proud dames shall tell of many a routed foe.

"No messengers in boastful pride
Will I to Carthage send again;
Our every hope, it died, it died,
When Asdrubal was slain,
And with his fall our name's all-conquering star did wane.

"No peril, but the Claudian line
Will front and master it, for they
Are shielded by Jove's grace divine,
And counsels sage alway
Their hosts through war's rough paths successfully convey!"