Horace
You ask me, friend,Why I don't sendThe long since due-and-paid-for numbers--Why, songless, IAs drunken lieAbandoned to Lethaean slumbers.
Long time ago(As well you know)I started in upon that carmen;My work was vain--But why complain?When gods forbid, how helpless are men!
Some ages back,The sage AnackCourted a frisky Samian body,Singing her praiseIn metered phraseAs flowing as his bowls of toddy.
'Till I was hoarseMight I discourseUpon the cruelties of Venus--'Twere waste of timeAs well of rhyme,For you've been there yourself, Maecenas!
Perfect your bliss,If some fair missLove you yourself and not your minae;I, fortune's sport,All vainly courtThe beauteous, polyandrous Phryne!
Words in this poem
- songless a.
- Destitute of the power of song; without song; as, songless birds; songless woods.
- samian a.
- Of or pertaining to the island of Samos. [L. Samius.]
- toddy n.
- A juice drawn from various kinds of palms in the East Indies; or, a spirituous liquor procured from it by fermentation. [Formed from Hind. ta the juice of the palmyra tree, popularly, toddy, fr. ta the palmyra tree, Skr. tala.]
- beauteous a.
- Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
- polyandrous a.
- Belonging to the class Polyandria; having many stamens, or any number above twenty, inserted in the receptacle.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Horace is in the public domain. This text is taken from Hoosier Lyrics, Project Gutenberg ebook #36150; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Eugene Field, Horace, in Hoosier Lyrics (1905), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #36150, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/field-poems/horace.html, id L11603.
Form and metre
Horace is 30 lines in 5 stanzas of 6 lines each. The commonest rhyme scheme is AABCCB, in 2 of the 5 stanzas; the rest vary or could not be confirmed. The metre is iambic dimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 89%). 94% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 5.6 syllables. 7 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 40% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic dimeter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 AABCCB friendA · sendA · numbersB · iC · lieC · slumbersB
- 2 AABBBB agoA · knowA · carmenB · vainB · complainB · menB
- 3 AABCCB backA · anackA · bodyB · praiseC · phraseC · toddyB
- 4 AA-BB- hoarseA · discourseA · venus · timeB · rhymeB · maecenas
- 5 AA-BB- blissA · missA · minae · sportB · courtB · phryne
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic dimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| You ask me, friend, | 4 | ···· |
| Why I don't send | 4 | ···· |
| The long since due-and-paid-for numbers-- | 9 | ·······/˘ |
| Why, songless, I | 4 | ·/˘· |
| As drunken lie | 4 | ·/˘· |
| Abandoned to Lethaean slumbers. | 8 | ˘/˘···/˘ |
| Long time ago | 4 | ··˘/ |
| (As well you know) | 4 | ···· |
| I started in upon that carmen; | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| My work was vain-- | 4 | ···· |
| But why complain? | 4 | ··˘/ |
| When gods forbid, how helpless are men! | 9 | ··˘/·/˘·· |
| Some ages back, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| The sage Anack | 4 | ···· |
| Courted a frisky Samian body, | 10 | /˘·/˘/˘˘/˘ |
| Singing her praise | 4 | /˘·· |
| In metered phrase | 4 | ·/˘· |
| As flowing as his bowls of toddy. | 9 | ·/˘····/˘ |
| 'Till I was hoarse | 4 | ···· |
| Might I discourse | 4 | ··/˘ |
| Upon the cruelties of Venus-- | 8 | ···/˘·/˘ |
| 'Twere waste of time | 4 | ···· |
| As well of rhyme, | 4 | ···· |
| For you've been there yourself, Maecenas! | 9 | ····˘/··· |
| Perfect your bliss, | 4 | ˘/·· |
| If some fair miss | 4 | ···· |
| Love you yourself and not your minae; | 8 | ··˘/···· |
| I, fortune's sport, | 4 | ·/˘· |
| All vainly court | 4 | ·/˘· |
| The beauteous, polyandrous Phryne! | 9 | ·/˘˘·˘/˘· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.