Come, dear old friend, and with us twain To calm Digentian groves repair; The turtle coos his sweet refrain And posies are a-blooming there; And there the romping Sabine girls Bind myrtle in their lustrous curls. I know a certain ilex-tree Whence leaps a fountain cool and clear. Its voices summon you and me; Come, let us haste to share its cheer! Methinks the rapturous song it sings Should woo our thoughts from mortal things. But, good old friend, I charge thee well, Watch thou my brother all the while, Lest some fair Lydia cast her spell Round him unschooled in female guile. Those damsels have no charms for me; Guard thou that brother,—I'll guard thee! And, lo, sweet friend! behold this cup, Round which the garlands intertwine; With Massic it is foaming up, And we would drink to thee and thine. And of the draught thou shalt partake, Who lov'st us for our father's sake. Hark you! from yonder Sabine farm Echo the songs of long ago, With power to soothe and grace to charm What ills humanity may know; With that sweet music in the air, 'T is Love and Summer everywhere. So, though no grief consumes our lot (Since all our lives have been discreet), Come, in this consecrated spot, Let's see if pagan cheer be sweet. Now, then, the songs; but, first, more wine. The gods be with you, friends of mine!

E.F.

AN INVITATION TO MÆCENAS

Dear, noble friend! a virgin cask Of wine solicits your attention; And roses fair, to deck your hair, And things too numerous to mention. So tear yourself awhile away From urban turmoil, pride, and splendor, And deign to share what humble fare And sumptuous fellowship I tender. The sweet content retirement brings Smoothes out the ruffled front of kings. The evil planets have combined To make the weather hot and hotter; By parboiled streams the shepherd dreams Vainly of ice-cream soda-water. And meanwhile you, defying heat, With patriotic ardor ponder On what old Rome essays at home, And what her heathen do out yonder. Mæcenas, no such vain alarm Disturbs the quiet of this farm! God in His providence obscures The goal beyond this vale of sorrow, And smiles at men in pity when They seek to penetrate the morrow. With faith that all is for the best, Let's bear what burdens are presented, That we shall say, let come what may, "We die, as we have lived, contented! Ours is to-day; God's is the rest,— He doth ordain who knoweth best." Dame Fortune plays me many a prank. When she is kind, oh, how I go it! But if again she's harsh,—why, then I am a very proper poet! When favoring gales bring in my ships, I hie to Rome and live in clover; Elsewise I steer my skiff out here, And anchor till the storm blows over. Compulsory virtue is the charm Of life upon the Sabine farm!

CHLORIS PROPERLY REBUKED

Chloris, my friend, I pray you your misconduct to forswear; The wife of poor old Ibycus should have more savoir faire. A woman at your time of life, and drawing near death's door, Should not play with the girly girls, and think she's en rapport. What's good enough for Pholoe you cannot well essay; Your daughter very properly courts the jeunesse dorée,— A Thyiad, who, when timbrel beats, cannot her joy restrain, But plays the kid, and laughs and giggles à l'Américaine. 'T is more becoming, Madame, in a creature old and poor, To sit and spin than to engage in an affaire d'amour. The lutes, the roses, and the wine drained deep are not for you; Remember what the poet says: Ce monde est plein de fous!

TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA

O fountain of Bandusia! Whence crystal waters flow, With garlands gay and wine I'll pay The sacrifice I owe; A sportive kid with budding horns I have, whose crimson blood Anon shall dye and sanctify Thy cool and babbling flood. O fountain of Bandusia! The Dog-star's hateful spell No evil brings into the springs That from thy bosom well; Here oxen, wearied by the plow, The roving cattle here Hasten in quest of certain rest, And quaff thy gracious cheer. O fountain of Bandusia! Ennobled shalt thou be, For I shall sing the joys that spring Beneath yon ilex-tree. Yes, fountain of Bandusia, Posterity shall know The cooling brooks that from thy nooks Singing and dancing go.

TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA

O fountain of Bandusia! more glittering than glass, And worthy of the pleasant wine and toasts that freely pass; More worthy of the flowers with which thou modestly art hid, To-morrow willing hands shall sacrifice to thee a kid. In vain the glory of the brow where proudly swell above The growing horns, significant of battle and of love; For in thy honor he shall die,—the offspring of the herd,— And with his crimson life-blood thy cold waters shall be stirred. The Dog-star's cruel season, with its fierce and blazing heat, Has never sent its scorching rays into thy glad retreat; The oxen, wearied with the plow, the herd which wanders near, Have found a grateful respite and delicious coolness here. When of the graceful ilex on the hollow rocks I sing, Thou shalt become illustrious, O sweet Bandusian spring! Among the noble fountains which have been enshrined in fame, Thy dancing, babbling waters shall in song our homage claim.

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