Quintus Horatius Flaccus, Epode XIII: Seize The Hour.
See gathering clouds obscure the sky,
The air seems melting from on high
In fleecy snow, or showers of rain.
What howling tempests sweep the main
And shake the woods! While in our power,
My friends, we'll seize the hour
While youth yet revels in our veins,
And unimpaired our strength remains.
The cares of age to age resign,
But hither bring the generous wine
Laid up in my Torquatus' year,
When first I breathed the vital air.
No more of adverse fate complain,
Perhaps the gods may smile again.
Let Achaemenian essence shed
Its spicy odours round your head,
And the Cyllenian lyre compose
With soft melodious strains your woes.
Thus Chiron to his pupil sung:
"Great hero from a goddess sprung,
Fame calls thee to the Trojan plain,
To old Assaracus' reign,
Where small Scamander slowly glides,
And Simois rolls his rapid tides;
There must thou fall by fate's decree,
Nor shall thy Mother of the sea
Her short-lived son again receive.
Then every anxious thought relieve
By wine or music's charms, for they
Can best the cares of life allay."
Translated by John Duncombe.
Music by Michael Levy.