Carm. 2. 9.

C ARM . II. 9.

Not ceaselessly the raincloud pours.
Down on the tangled fields, nor yet
Do squalls the Caspian always fret,
Nor always on Armenian shores
Stands the stiff ice, nor all the year
Reel the stout oaks to winds that rave
Round Gargan heights, nor ash trees wave
Their leafless boughs for ever sere.
Why then lament with endless lay
Of Mystes reft? the star of eye
Shines on your grief, and still you grieve
When Hesper flies the hurrying day.
Not for his dear Antilochus
Mourned the old sire through livelong years
Nor Phrygian sisters poured their tears
Incessant o'er young Troilus.
Cease then, my Valgius, chaunt not ever
Those tender plaints; come change the string —
Of Caesar's latest triumphs sing,
Niphates, and the Median river
Bound like the rest with Roman chains
And taught with tamer tide to flow,
And the Gelonians forced to know
Their bounds and ride o'er narrower plains.
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Author of original: 
Horace
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