Odes and Carmen Saeculare — Book III - X - Extremum Tanain

EXTREMUM TANAIN.

Ah Lyce!

though your drink were Tanais, Your husband some rude savage, you would weep To leave me shivering, on a night like this, Where storms their watches keep.

Hark!

how your door is creaking!

how the grove In your fair court-yard, while the wild winds blow, Wails in accord!

with what transparence Jove Is glazing the driven snow!

Cease that proud temper: Venus loves it not: The rope may break, the wheel may backward turn: Begetting you, no Tuscan sire begot Penelope the stern.

O, though no gift, no "prevalence of prayer," Nor lovers' paleness deep as violet, Nor husband, smit with a Pierian fair, Move you, have pity yet!

O harder e'en than toughest heart of oak, Deafer than uncharm'd snake to suppliant moans!

This side, I warn you, will not always brook Rain-water and cold stones.

XI.