Living
Odes 3.18: Faune, Nympharum
Translated by John Conington (3rd ed., before 1869) · From Odes, Book III
O wont the flying Nymphs to woo,
Good Faunus, through my sunny farm
Pass gently, gently pass, nor do
My younglings harm.
Each year, thou know'st, a kid must die
For thee; nor lacks the wine's full stream
To Venus' mate, the bowl; and high
The altars steam.
Sure as December's nones appear,
All o'er the grass the cattle play;
The village, with the lazy steer,
Keeps holyday.
Wolves rove among the fearless sheep;
The woods for thee their foliage strow;
The delver loves on earth to leap,
His ancient foe.
Cite this poem
MLA
Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus). “Odes 3.18: Faune, Nympharum.” Translated by John Conington. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/horace/73/.
Chicago
Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus). “Odes 3.18: Faune, Nympharum.” Translated by John Conington. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/horace/73/.
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