Lauriger Horatius

From the Medieval Latin

Translated by John Addington Symonds

LAUREL-CROWNED Horatius,

True, how true thy saying!

Swift as wind flies over us

Time, devouring, slaying.

Where are, oh! those goblets full

Of wine honey-laden,

Strifes and loves and bountiful

Lips of ruddy maiden?

Grows the young grape tenderly,

And the maid is growing;

But the thirsty poet, see,

Years on him are snowing!

What ’s the use on hoary curls

Of the bays undying,

If we may not kiss the girls,

Drink while time ’s a-flying?