Book III: Ode VIII: Martiis Coelebs
The first of March! a man unwed!What can these flowers, this censer meanOr what these embers, glowing redOn sods of green?You ask, in either language skill'd!A feast I vow'd to Bacchus free,A white he-goat, when all but kill'dBy falling tree.So, when that holyday comes round,It sees me still the rosin clearFrom this my wine-jar, first embrown'dIn Tullus' year.Come, crush one hundred cups for lifePreserved, Maecenas; keep till dayThe candles lit; let noise and strifeBe far away.Lay down that load of state-concern;The Dacian hosts are all o'erthrown;The Mede, that sought our overturn,Now seeks his own;A servant now, our ancient foe,The Spaniard, wears at last our chain;The Scythian half unbends his bowAnd quits the plain.Then fret not lest the state should ail;A private man such thoughts may spare;Enjoy the present hour's regale,And banish care.
Words in this poem
- censer n.
- A vessel for perfumes; esp. one in which incense is burned. [For incenser, fr. OF. encensier, F. encensoir, fr. LL. incensarium, incensorium, fr. L. incensum incense. See Incense, and cf. Incensory.]
- holyday n.
- A religious festival.
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- dacian a.
- Of or pertaining to Dacia or the Dacians.
- spaniard n.
- A native or inhabitant of Spain.
- regale n.
- A prerogative of royalty. Johnson. [LL. regale, pl. regalia, fr. L. regalis: cf. F. régale. See Regal.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Book III: Ode VIII: Martiis Coelebs is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Odes and Carmen Saeculare, Project Gutenberg ebook #5432, the John Conington translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Horace, Book III: Ode VIII: Martiis Coelebs, in The Odes and Carmen Saeculare (1863), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #5432, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/horace-odes/book-iii-ode-viii-martiis-coelebs.html, id L13960.
Form and metre
Book III: Ode VIII: Martiis Coelebs is 28 lines in a single stanza. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 7.0 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 32% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
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 ABABCDCD-E-EFGFGHIHIJKJK-L-L unwedA · meanB · redA · greenB · skill'dC · freeD · kill'dC · treeD · round · clearE · embrown'd · yearE · lifeF · dayG · strifeF · awayG · concernH · o'erthrownI · overturnH · ownI · foeJ · chainK · bowJ · plainK · ail · spareL · regale · careL
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 tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| The first of March! a man unwed! | 8 | ······˘/ |
| What can these flowers, this censer mean | 8 | ···/·/˘· |
| Or what these embers, glowing red | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| On sods of green? | 4 | ···· |
| You ask, in either language skill'd! | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| A feast I vow'd to Bacchus free, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| A white he-goat, when all but kill'd | 8 | ········ |
| By falling tree. | 4 | ·/˘· |
| So, when that holyday comes round, | 8 | ···/˘˘·· |
| It sees me still the rosin clear | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| From this my wine-jar, first embrown'd | 8 | ········ |
| In Tullus' year. | 4 | ···· |
| Come, crush one hundred cups for life | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Preserved, Maecenas; keep till day | 8 | ˘/······ |
| The candles lit; let noise and strife | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Be far away. | 4 | ··˘/ |
| Lay down that load of state-concern; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The Dacian hosts are all o'erthrown; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| The Mede, that sought our overturn, | 8 | ····//˘· |
| Now seeks his own; | 4 | ···· |
| A servant now, our ancient foe, | 8 | ·/˘·//˘· |
| The Spaniard, wears at last our chain; | 8 | ·/˘···/· |
| The Scythian half unbends his bow | 8 | ·/˘··/·· |
| And quits the plain. | 4 | ···· |
| Then fret not lest the state should ail; | 8 | ········ |
| A private man such thoughts may spare; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Enjoy the present hour's regale, | 9 | ˘/·/˘/˘/˘ |
| And banish care. | 4 | ·/˘· |
Notes from the edition 1
John Conington's own notes to his translation of the Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace (3rd ed.; Project Gutenberg #5432).
- Line 17 Lay down that load of state-concern. I have translated generally; but Horace's meaning is special, referring to Maecenas' office of prefect of the city.
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