To Ibycus's Wife. - Translations From Horace.
OD. ii. 15. Spouse of penniless Ibycus, Thus late, bring to a close all thy delinquencies, All thy studious infamy:- Nearing swiftly the grave - (that not an early one) - Cease girls' sport to participate, Blurring stars which were else cloudlessly brilliant. What suits her who is beautiful Suits not equally thee: rightly devastates Thy fair daughter the homes of men, Wild as Thyad, who wakes stirred by the kettle-drums. Nothus' beauty constraining her, Like some kid at his play, holds she her revelry: Thy years stately Luceria's Wools more fitly become - not din of harpsichords, Not pink-petalled roseblossoms, Not casks drained by an old lip to the sediment.
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"OD. ii. 15...."
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