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(notes by Philip Holberton) |
the poem
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The man who is pure of life, and free of sin,Kipling, who had greatly admired Horace from an early age, wrote a cheerfully mocking gloss on this:
has no need, dear Fuscus, for Moorish javelins,
nor a bow and a quiver, fully loaded
with poisoned arrows.
While I was wandering, beyond the boundaries
of my farm, in the Sabine woods, and singing
free from care, lightly-defended, of my Lalage,
a wolf fled from me.
Set me down in a land denied habitation,
where the sun’s chariot rumbles too near the earth:
I’ll still be in love with my sweetly laughing,
sweet talking Lalage.
[Tr. by A. S. Kline]
To Aristius Fuscus[line 2] Rimini a port on the eastern Adriatic coast of Italy
The Pure and Perfect Bore
Goes scatheless evermore
Arrows and Poison never
Yet destroyed him.
Such is the Mantle thrown
By Dullness o’er Her Own
That, when He sings, the
Very Beasts avoid Him.
So He pervades the Earth
Adsorbed in His Own Worth –
No Tact restrains – no Grace – no Humour move Him.
And yet – Oh Womankind! –
This God’s Own Ass can find
Some long-enduring Lalage to love Him!
[See Kipling's Horace, ed. Carrington, p. 7]
Till the Legions elected him Cæsar,The Legions elected Maximus as Caesar, Emperor of Rome. He crossed over to Gaul, after he had made himself Emperor of Britain, but was defeated by his rival Theodosius, and executed, as is told in "The Winged Hats".
And he rose to be master of all!
After the fight at Otterburn
Before the ravens came...