Book III.12 of The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace

XII.

How unhappy are the maidens who with Cupid may not play,
Who may never touch the wine-cup, but must tremble all the day
At an uncle, and the scourging of his tongue!
Neobule, there's a robber takes your needle and your thread,
Lets the lessons of Minerva run no longer in your head;
It is Hebrus, the athletic and the young!
O, to see him when anointed he is plunging in the flood!
What a seat he has on horseback! was Bellerophon's as good?
As a boxer, as a runner, past compare!
When the deer are flying blindly all the open country o'er,
He can aim and he can hit them; he can steal upon the boar,
As it couches in the thicket unaware.

Miserarum Est.

Miserarum est neque amori dare ludum neque dulci
mala uino lauere aut exanimari
metuentis patruae uerbera linguae.

Tibi qualum Cythereae puer ales, tibi telas
operosaeque Mineruae studium aufert, 5
Neobule, Liparaei nitor Hebri,

simul unctos Tiberinis umeros lauit in undis,
eques ipso melior Bellerophonte,
neque pugno neque segni pede uictus;

catus idem per apertum fugientis agitato 10
grege ceruos iaculari et celer arto
latitantem fruticeto excipere aprum.

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