
The poem describes a scene where Horace, a Roman poet, is sitting at his Sabine farm, surrounded by nature and contemplating the fleeting nature of human life. He reflects on how people are often distracted by worldly pursuits and neglect their spiritual well-being. The poem conveys a sense of melancholy and introspection, urging the reader to focus on what truly matters in life.
By Eugene Field · First published 1896 · Genre: Poetry, Satire, Classical Literature · 228 words
You ask me, friend, / Why I don't send / The long since due-and-paid-for numbers -- / Why, songless, I / As drunken lie / Abandoned to Lethaean slumbers.
Long time ago / (As well you know) / I started in upon that carmen; / My work was vain -- / But why complain? / When gods forbid, how helpless are men!
Some ages back, / The sage Anack / Courted a frisky Samian body, / Singing her praise / In metered phrase / As flowing as his bowls of toddy.
'Till I was hoarse / Might I discourse / Upon the cruelties of Venus -- / 'Twere waste of time / As well of rhyme, / For you've been there yourself, Maecenas!
Satire · Poetry · Ancient_Roman_Reference · Humor · Irony · Social_Commentary · Moral_Reflections · Wit · Sarcasm · Cynicism · Critique_of_Society · Roman_Influence
HORACE. (Epode XIV.) is listed on Textopian as a poem by Eugene Field, dated 1896 CE.
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