2 MARCH 1872, Page 14

POETRY.

HORACE—ODES, IL, 3. r" EQUAll HEMENTO REBUS IN ARMS:1 STILL calm, 0 mortal son of earth In trouble keep thy soul, nor yet, When kinder Fortune smiles, forget

To guard thee well from wanton mirth t Still calm, if lifelong care be thine, Or happier lot, to while away, On lawn retired, each festal day With rich Falernum's choicest wine.

For thee unite in sheltering nook Tall pine and white-leaved aspen tree Their friendly boughs, and leaps for thee Down its steep bed the hurrying brook. Bring wine and scent; bring roses' bloom, The pleasant rose that fades too fast, While fate allows, nor youth is past, Nor spun the three dark Sisters' doom.

Wide be thy glades, thy mansion fair, Stately thy seat on Tiber's shore, Thou leavest all : pile high thy store, 'Tis gathered for a stranger heir.

Rich art thou, sprung of royal race, Or some poor outcast, meanest thing Beneath the sky,—Hell's ruthless King Still claims his prey ; to one dread place We all are driven, where the urn Is shaken still,—till, soon or late, Leaps forth the lot that bears our fate, The exile from which none return.

ALFRED CHURCH.