ODE LXV.[1]

Like some wanton filly sporting,

Maid Of Thrace, thou flyest my courting.

Wanton filly! tell me why

Thou trip'st away, with scornful eye,

And seem'st to think my doating heart

Is novice in the bridling art?

Believe me, girl, it is not so;

Thou'lt find this skilful hand can throw

The reins around that tender form,

However wild, however warm.

Yes—trust me I can tame thy force,

And turn and wind thee in the course.

Though, wasting now thy careless hours,

Thou sport amid the herbs and flowers,

Soon shalt thou feel the rein's control,

And tremble at the wished-for goal!

[1] This ode, which is addressed to some Thracian girl, exists in Heraclides, and has been imitated very frequently by Horace, as all the annotators have remarked. Madame Dacier rejects the allegory, which runs so obviously through the poem, and supposes it to have been addressed to a young mare belonging to Polycrates.

Pierius, in the fourth book of his "Hieroglyphics," cites this ode, and informs us that the horse was the hieroglyphical emblem of pride.

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