Classic Poem

Ode XXII.

AD ARISTIUM FUSCUM .

Aristius! if thou canst secure
A conscience calm, with morals pure,
Look upwards for defence! abjure
All meaner craft—
The bow and quiver of the Moor,
And poisoned shaft.

What though thy perilous path lie traced
O'er burning Afric's boundless waste.…
Of rugged Caucasus the guest,
Or doom'd to travel
Where fabulous rivers of the East
Their course unravel!…

Under my Sabine woodland shade,
Musing upon my Grecian maid,
Unconsciously of late I strayed
Through glen and meadow,
When, lo! a ravenous wolf, afraid,
Fled from my shadow.

No monster of such magnitude
Lurks in the depth of Daunia's wood,
Or roams through Lybia unsubdued
The land to curse—
Land of a fearful lion-brood
The withered nurse.

Waft me away tOdeserts wild,
Where vegetation never smiled,
Where sunshine never once beguiled
The dreary day,
But winters upon winters piled
For aye delay.

Place me beneath the torrid zone,
Where man to dwell was never known,
I'd cherish still one thought alone,
Maid of my choice!
The smile of thy sweet lip—the tone
Of thy sweet voice!