Classic Poem

C ARM . II. 14.

A H me, my friend: how fast away
Fly the fleet years! no holy spell
Time or Time's wrinkles can repel,
Or Death's resistless march delay
Pile up each day your hecatomb —
Pluto heeds not! The giant brood,
Vast Geryon, floating many a rood,
And Tityos writhe in ruthless doom,
Confined by that grim gulf below;
And all who taste of earthly food
Must cross that melancholy flood —
Princes and peasants all must go.
In vain from bloody wars we fly,
And Hadria's roaring breakers shun:
In vain shrink from the autumnal sun
And south winds breathing balefully;
That murky slow meandering river,
Cocytus named, we all must view,
And Danaus' dishonoured crew,
And him who heaves the stone for ever:
Abandoned land and home must be,
And your sweet wife; of all your trees
None but the hateful cypresses
May bear their brief lord company;
All your Caecubian hoards your heir,
Though guarded by a hundred doors,
Shall waste, and stain his gorgeous floors
With finer wine than pontiffs share.