The First Book of the Odes of Horace.
Ode iii. To the Ship, in Which Virgil Was About to Sail to Athens.
Ode xvi. To a Young Lady Horace Had Offended.
Ode xxxiii. To Albius Tibullus.
Ode xxxiv. Against the Epicurians.
Ode xxxvii. To His Companions.
The Second Book of the Odes of Horace.
Ode ii. To Crispus Sallustius.
Ode xv. Against the Luxury of the Romans.
Ode xviii. Against Avarice and Luxury.
A Dithyrambic, or Drinking Song.
The Third Book of the Odes of Horace.
Ode ii. Against the Degeneracy of the Roman Youth.
Ode iii. On Steadiness and Integrity.
Ode v. On the Recovery of the Standards From Phraates.
Ode xiii. To the Bandusian Fountain.
Ode xxvii. To Galatea, Upon Her Going to Sea.
The Fourth Book of the Odes of Horace.
Ode viii. To Marcius Censorinus.
Ode xv. To Augustus, on the Restoration of Peace.
The Book of the Epodes of Horace.
Ode ii. The Praises of a Country Life.
Ode v. The Witches Mangling a Boy.
Ode vi. Against Cassius Severus.
Ode viii. Upon a Wanton Old Woman.
Ode xii. To a Woman Whose Charms Were Over.
Dialogue Between Horace and Canidia.
The Secular Poem of Horace. To Apollo and Diana.
The First Book of the Satires of Horace.
Satire i. That all, but especially the covetous, think their own condition the hardest.
Satire ii. Bad men, when they avoid certain vices, fall into their opposite extremes.
Satire v. He describes a certain journey of his from Rome to Brundusium with great pleasantry.
Satire vii. He humorously describes a squabble betwixt Rupilius and Persius.
Satire ix. He describes his sufferings from the loquacity of an impertinent fellow.
The Second Book of the Satires of Horace.
Satire viii. A smart description of a miser ridiculously acting the extravagant.
The First Book of the Epistles of Horace.
Epistle v. To Torquatus. He invites him to a frugal entertainment, but a cleanly and cheerful one.
Epistle vi. To Numicius. That a wise man is in love with nothing but virtue.
Epistle ix. To Claudius Tiberius Nero. He recommends Septimius to him.
The Second Book of the Epistles of Horace.
Horace's Book Upon the Art of Poetry. To the Pisos.
It by no means, O Pectius, delights me as heretofore to write Lyric verses, being smitten with cruel love: with love, who takes pleasure to inflame me beyond others, either youths or maidens. This is the third December that has shaken the [leafy] honors from the woods, since I ceased to be mad for Inachia. Ah me! (for I am ashamed of so great a misfortune) what a subject of talk was I throughout the city! I repent too of the entertainments, at which both a languishing and silence and sighs, heaved from the bottom of my breast, discovered the lover. As soon as the indelicate god [Bacchus] by the glowing wine had removed, as I grew warm, the secrets of [my heart] from their repository, I made my complaints, lamenting to you, "Has the fairest genius of a poor man no weight against wealthy lucre? Wherefore, if a generous indignation boil in my breast, insomuch as to disperse to the winds these disagreeable applications, that give no ease to the desperate wound; the shame [of being overcome] ending, shall cease to contest with rivals of such a sort." When I, with great gravity, had applauded these resolutions in your presence, being ordered to go home, I was carried with a wandering foot to posts, alas! to me not friendly, and alas! obdurate gates, against which I bruised my loins and side. Now my affections for the delicate Lyciscus engross all my time; from them neither the unreserved admonitions, nor the serious reprehensions of other friends can recall me [to my former taste for poetry]; but, perhaps, either a new flame for some fair damsel, or for some graceful youth who binds his long hair in a knot, [may do so].