Page:Pastorals Epistles Odes (1748).djvu/140

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TRANSLATIONS.
But let me now the rider raise,And crown him with Æolian lays, 180The victor's due: and I confide,Though every welcome guest were try'd,Not one, in all the concourse, would be foundFor fairest knowledge more renown'd,Nor yet a master more to twine, 185In lasting hymns, each wreathing line.The guardian god, who watchful guidesThy fortunes, Hiero, presidesO'er all thy cares with anxious pow'r:And soon, if he does not deny 190His needful aid, my hopes run highTo sing more pleasing, in the joyful hour,
EPODE IV.Measures 16.
On thy chariot, triumphant when thou shalt appear,And fly o'er the course with a rapid career,Tracing paths of language fair, 195As I to Cronion's sunny mount repair.Even now the muse prepares to raise,Her growth, the strongest dart of praise,For me to wield. Approv'd in other things,Do others rise, conspicuous: only Kings, 200

High

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