POETRY.

Evening Post, Volume LXVIII, Issue 128, 26 November 1904, Page 11

POETRY.

•'INTEGER VIT^3." HORACE, ODES 1—22. (Translated for the Wellington Liedertafel by J. W. Joynt, M.A., to suit 1 music.) He walking blameless, loathing vices shameless, No danger heedethy sword nor quiver needeth ; •- Safe and undaunted, scorneth weapons vaunted By rude barbarian. "What though he drifteth where the quicksand shifteth, O'er crag or mountain, or where Eastern fountain, Fabled in story, laveth regions hoary, Nought can alaim him. Careless I wandered, in deep woodlands pondered, Love's rapture's singing, spells around me flinging ; Love's shelter o'er me, fled a wolf before me, Fierce and death-bringing. None more terrific rears that land prolific, Bold warriors breeding, beasts in oakgroves feeding ; Less awful wonder^ spreadeth lion's thunder O'er Afric's sand-waste. Where skies are weeping, ice-bound fields \ are sleeping, Winds' dreary moanin? summer-breath i disowning; • Or. where rays beating desert plains are heating . \ ' By man forsaken; Love, still undying, clime and change defying. Lingereth near me, through the world to cheer, me ; One ' smiling maiden, voice with music laden,' ,< ' Wand'ring I cherish.