Ode 1.8
Lydia, prithee, say,
Why thus in haste, by all the gods above,
Sybaris with thy love
To wreck? Why loathes he Campus ground to-day
Who never flinched before from dust or sun's hot ray?
Why has he ceased to ride
With his compeers arrayed in martial band,
Subduing to his hand
With jagged bit his Gallic charger's pride?
Why shrinks he from the touch of Tiber's yellow tide?
Why oil with greater fear
Than if 'twere viper's blood does he refuse?
Why marked with not a bruise
His arms, that oft by cast of quoit or spear
Beyond the utmost bound had won full many a cheer?
Why does he lie concealed,
As ere the sad and fatal siege of Troy
Lay sea-born Thetis' boy
Disguised, lest man's apparel to the field
Of war 'gainst Lycian host should drag him forth revealed?
Why thus in haste, by all the gods above,
Sybaris with thy love
To wreck? Why loathes he Campus ground to-day
Who never flinched before from dust or sun's hot ray?
Why has he ceased to ride
With his compeers arrayed in martial band,
Subduing to his hand
With jagged bit his Gallic charger's pride?
Why shrinks he from the touch of Tiber's yellow tide?
Why oil with greater fear
Than if 'twere viper's blood does he refuse?
Why marked with not a bruise
His arms, that oft by cast of quoit or spear
Beyond the utmost bound had won full many a cheer?
Why does he lie concealed,
As ere the sad and fatal siege of Troy
Lay sea-born Thetis' boy
Disguised, lest man's apparel to the field
Of war 'gainst Lycian host should drag him forth revealed?
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