Odes 4.8

Poetry, the giver of immortality

by Horace

This ode has an emphatic position in Horace’s fourth book, bang in the middle, no. 8 of 15. He obviously sets a lot of store by its message: that it is poets who confer immortality on the men they celebrate. Once again, there are echoes of Pindar, famous for his lyrics in praise of great men and victors in sacred games. The message about survival comes as a foil immediately after the beautiful but melancholy ode 4.7 about the inevitability of death. The metre underlines its importance to Horace, who uses this form of Asclepiad only twice elsewhere, in his dedication to his patron Maecenas in the first poem of his first book, and in the last of his third book, in which he has proudly claimed immortality for himself on the strength of his lyric poetry.

Unfortunately something has gone wrong with the text, which seems awkward in places and is the only ode of all that cannot be divided neatly into four-line stanzas: scholars have debated for many years precisely what and where the problem is. Many have also been unhappy that a piece that looks as though it is to be a celebration of the achievements of Censorinus, the addressee, in the end does not say anything about them. Perhaps this matters less if the piece is read as a personal gift of poetry to one of the friends (“sodalibus”) that Horace mention at the beginning, rather than panegyric praising a public figure. There is plenty of that elsewhere in Book 4 of the Odes, especially in poems highlighting the achievements of members of the Emperor Augustus’s family.

Castor and Pollux, sons of Jupiter by Leda, were guardians of seafarers; in myth, Aeacus was a legendarily just king who was made a judge in the underworld after his death.

Metre: minor Asclepiad.

See the illustrated blog post here.

Reading coming soon.

To scroll the original and English translation of the poem at the same time - tap inside one box to select it and then scroll.

Donarem pateras grataque commodus,
Censorine, meis aera sodalibus,
donarem tripodas, praemia fortium
Graiorum, neque tu pessuma munerum
ferres, divite me scilicet artium
quas aut Parrhasius protulit aut Scopas,
hic saxo, liquidis ille coloribus
sollers nunc hominem ponere, nunc deum
sed non haec mihi vis, nec tibi talium
res est aut animus deliciarum egens.
gaudes carminibus; carmina possumus
donare et pretium dicere muneri.
non incisa notis marmora publicis,
per quae spiritus et vita redit bonis
post mortem ducibus, non celeres fugae
reiectaeque retrorsum Hannibalis minae
non incendia Karthaginis inpiae,
eius, qui domita nomen ab Africa
lucratus rediit, clarius indicant
laudes quam Calabrae Pierides neque,
si chartae sileant quod bene feceris,
mercedem tuleris. quid foret Iliae
Mavortisque puer, si taciturnitas
obstaret meritis invida Romuli?
ereptum Stygiis fluctibus Aeacum
virtus et favor et lingua potentium
vatum divitibus consecrat insulis.
dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori,
caelo Musa beat. sic Iovis interest
optatis epulis impiger Hercules,
clarum Tyndaridae sidus ab infimis
quassas eripiunt aequoribus ratis,
ornatus viridi tempora pampino
Liber vota bonos ducit ad exitus.

If I could, I would give my friends cups and charming bronzes, Censorinus, I would give them tripods, those trophies of the strong Greeks, and of course, you would not get the worst of my gifts, had I been rich in the arts that Scopas practised in stone or Parrhasius in flowing colours, so skilled at representing here a mortal and there a god. But I have no stock of such choice items, your wealth does not consist in them, and it is not in your character to want them. Lyric poetry is what you love: lyric poetry I can give you, and tell the value of the gift, too. It is not through marble carved with public pronouncements that life and spirit return to successful generals after their death; and swift routs and Hannibal’s threats hurled straight back on him, and the burning of impious Carthage do not set out the praises of [Scipio,] the general who returned from a conquered Africa rewarded with its name, more clearly than [the epic poet Ennius and his ] Calabrian Muses, nor, if the poetry books are mute about whatever you have done well, will you reap the reward for it. What would Romulus, child of Ilia and Mars be, if envious silence stood in the way of his deserts? It is the skill, the favour and the eloquence of mighty bards that have snatched Aeacus from the waters of Hades and consecrate him on the Isles of the Blessed. If a man is worthy of praise, the Muse forbids him to die: it is the Muse that gives blessings in the heavens. That is how Hercules, master of labours, finds himself among the longed-for feasts of Jupiter, and the bright star of Castor and Pollux saves stricken ships from a watery grave; Bacchus, his temples crowned with the green vine leaf, brings men’s vows to a successful end.

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More Poems by Horace

  1. Europa’s lament
  2. Last love
  3. Lalage is too young
  4. Love a slave-girl? Oh, Xanthias!
  5. Horace returns to lyric poetry
  6. The Golden Mean
  7. A Prayer to the poetry-God
  8. The final ode
  9. A Farewell to arms
  10. Lovely mother, lovelier daughter
  11. The pleasures and dangers of wine
  12. A garland from the Muses
  13. Horace the peacemaker
  14. Horace’s Cleopatra ode
  15. Horace welcomes his army comrade
  16. Pyrrha
  17. Roman values for the new age
  18. Horace’s wine
  19. An oath to Maecenas
  20. The lust for money versus the simple life
  21. Be your age, Chloris!
  22. Don’t worry, be happy
  23. Some advice for Dellius
  24. Iccius goes soldiering
  25. A country sacrifice
  26. Soracte
  27. Horace, accepted bard of Rome
  28. Horace’s reverence to Bacchus
  29. A prayer to Faunus
  30. Unrequited love
  31. Lyce grows old
  32. The victories of Drusus and Tiberius
  33. Housman and Horace
  34. Caesar’s safe return
  35. Luxury versus the simple life
  36. Numida’s back
  37. Pollio’s histories of civil war
  38. Locked out
  39. Diffugere nives
  40. Horace’s monument
  41. Relief from care
  42. O Fons Bandusiae
  43. Jupiter’s authority, and Caesar’s
  44. Fortuna
  45. A divine inspiration
  46. The country is best
  47. The consolations of wine
  48. A day off for rain
  49. Gyges’s constancy
  50. Wealth should be used, not hoarded
  51. A dedication to Diana
  52. Celebrating Neptune’s feast day
  53. Horace rests from his labours
  54. Horace’s fame and Apollo’s gift
  55. The tug-of-war for Nearchus
  56. A call for a moral renaissance
  57. Jealousy
  58. Poscimur
  59. Mourning for a good man
  60. Horace’s Chloe
  61. Nereus prophesies the Trojan War
  62. A change of mind
  63. Stormy seas
  64. Love lost and found
  65. An invocation to the lyre
  66. Lydia’s tragedy
  67. What Roman youth should be
  68. Horace’s prayer to a wine-jar
  69. A plea for burial
  70. Leave the cares of state, Maecenas
  71. Augustus returns
  72. Late stirrings
  73. Postumus, the years slip by
  74. Here’s to Murena!
  75. Diana and Apollo: a hymn
  76. Licymnia
  77. Give me comfort, not riches
  78. A prayer to Venus
  79. Horace’s limitations
  80. A prayer to Mercury
  81. Horace’s first Ode
  82. Don’t trust Barine
  83. Gathering rosebuds: carpe diem
  84. Awe for the Gods
  85. Glycera
  86. Horace, the wolf and the upright life
  87. Rome: disaster and salvation
  88. Carpe diem, Sestius
  89. Tibur or Tarentum: a poet’s dilemma?
  90. Romulus in Heaven
  91. The fleeting years slip by
  92. Curse you, tree!
  93. Courage and decadence: the Regulus ode
  94. Valgius and Mystes
  95. Pindar and Augustus
  96. Horace the swan
  97. Romulus becomes a God
  98. New temples, new morals
  99. Augustus, master of the world
  100. Neobule
  101. An invitation to Maecenas

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