Aeneid lines 1.102-123

For (Aeneas) saying such things, the storm, shrieking with the Aquilo, strikes the sail crossways, and lifts the waves to the stars. Oars break, then prows turn and give side to the waves, a steep mountain of water follows the mass. These hang at the top of the wave; the cleaving wave opens the earth between the waves for them, the boiling surge rages upon the sands. Notus twists three snatched (ships) onto hidden rocks (the Italians call the rocks which are in the middle of the waves the Aras [Altars], a huge ridge on the surface of the sea), the Eurus drives three from the sea into the shallows and the reefs, wretched to see, and dashes them on the shoals and encircles (them) with a mound of sand. One, which bore the Lycians and faithful Orontes, the huge sea from the summit strikes on the stern before the eyes of (Aeneas) himself: the pilot is shaken off and rolls headlong, leaning forward, but in the same place three times a wave twists that (ship), driving (it) around and swift whirlpool swallows (it) in the sea. Scattered men, swimming in the vast abyss, appear through the waves, arms of men and tablets and Trojan treasure. Now the storm defeated the stout ship of Ilioneus, now of brave Achates, and (the one) on which Abas was carried, and on which aged Aletes; all receive hostile rain by the open joints of their sides and they gape with cracks.

Aeneid lines 1.50-101

Pondering with herself such things in her enflamed heart, the goddess comes into the country of the clouds, the places pregnant with raging (south) winds. Here in his vast cave the king Aeolus presses the struggling winds and the howling storms and he reins (them) with chains and prison. Those, angry, roar around the barriers of the mountain with a great rumble; holding his powers, Aeolus sits in his lofty citadel, he both sooths their spirits and calms their angers. If he should not do, indeed the swift (winds) would bear both the lands and the boundless sky with them and (would) sweep (them) through the airs; but the father almighty hid (them) in black caves fearing this and put mass and high mountains above, and he gave (them) a king who knew with sure treaty both how to control and to give loose reins, having been so ordered. To whom then Juno as a suppliant used these words: “Aeolus (for the father of the gods and the king of men gave to you both to soften and to lift the waves by the winds), a race hateful to me sails the Tyrrhenian Sea, carrying Troy and beaten household gods into Italy: strike force into the winds and crush sunken ships, or drive (them) scattered and disperse their bodies on the sea. I have [there are for me] twice seven Nymphs, of excellent body, of whom Deiopea, who (is) most beautiful in shape, I will join in stable marriage and will call your own so that she passes all the years with you and makes you a parent with beautiful offspring for such favors.”

Aeolus in response to these: “Your work, o queen, (is) to search out what you wish; it is right for me to perform the orders. You unite me to this whatever of a kingdom, you (unite me to) the powers and Jove, you give that I recline at the feasts of the gods, and you make me powerful over the clouds and storms.”

{81} When these words (have been) said, he strikes the hollow mountain in the side with his reversed spear; and the winds rush the gates where given, just as if a column has been formed, and blow over the lands in a whirlwind. The fell upon the sea and the Eurus [east wind] and the Notus [south wind] and the Africus [southwest wind], thick with storms, together rush the whole (sea) and turn vast waves to the shores. Both a shout of men and a screech of ropes follow; the clouds suddenly seize both sky and day from the eyes of the Teucrians; black night falls upon the sea; the skies thunder and the upper air flashes with frequent fires and everything threatens present death to men. Immediately the limbs of Aeneas are loosened with cold; he groans and, holding both hands to the stars, bears such things with his voice: “O three and four times blessed, whom it befell to die before the faces of their parents under the high walls of Troy! O son of Tydeus [Diomedes], bravest of the race of the Greeks! Was I not able to die on Trojan plains and pour out my spirit on your right hand, where savage Hector lay by the spear of Achilles, where huge Sarpedon (died), where the Simois rolled so many snatched shields of men and helmets and brave bodies under the waves!”

Horace Ode 4.7

Snows have scattered, now grasses return to the plains and leaves to the trees; earth changes its lot and the swelling rivers neglect their banks; the naked Grace with the Nymphs and her twin sisters dare to lead the choral dances. Lest you hope for eternal things, the year and the hour which seizes the nourishing day warns. Winters soften with the west winds, summer, also about to die, crushes spring, at the same time fruit-bearing autumn pours out crops, and soon stagnant winter returns. Yet swift moons repair celestial losses; we are dust and shadow when we have descended to where pious Aeneas, to where rich Tullus and Ancus (went). Who knows whether gods above might add tomorrow’s moments to today’s total? All which you give to a friendly mind will flee the greedy hands of an heir. When once you die and Minos has made his glittering judgments concerning you, Torquatus, no family, no eloquence, no piety will restore you; for neither does Diana free chaste Hippolytus from the infernal shades nor does Theseus prevail to break Lethean chains for his dear Pirithous.

Horace Ode 3.30

I have completed a monument more enduring than bronze and higher than the royal site of the Pyramids, which not devouring rain, not the wild north wind can destroy or the uncountable succession of the years and the flight of seasons. I will not wholly die, and a great part of me will avoid Libitina: I will grow fresh with following praise while the priest climbs the Capitoline with the silent maiden. Where violent Aufidus roars and where Daunus, poor in (lit. of) water, ruled the rustic peoples, I will be called, powerful from humble, first to have lead Aeolian song to Italian measures. Take the pride sought with merits and willingly ring my crown with Delphic laurel, Melpomene.

Horace Ode 3.13

O fountain of Bandusia, more glittering than glass, worthy of sweet wine not without flowers, tomorrow you will be honored with a kid-goat, whose forehead, swelling with first horns, destines both love and battles; in vain, for he will imbue your cold streams with red blood, offspring of the randy herd. The cruel hour of the blazing dog-star does not know to touch you, you offer pleasant chill to bulls wearied by the plow and to the wandering flock. You will become (one) of the noble fountains too, with me naming the oak set over the hollow rocks, whence your talkative waters jump down.

Horace Ode 3.9

“While I was pleasing to you nor was any more valued young man offering arms for your white neck, I flourished more blessed than the king of the Persians.”

“While you were not more inflamed by another and Lydia was not after Chloe, I, Lydia of great account, flourished more famous than Roman Ilia.”

“Now Thracian Chloe rules me, learned in sweet measures and expert of the lyre, for whom I will not fear to die, if the fates spare her life to go on.”

“Calais, son of Ornytus of Thurii, burns me with mutual torch, for whom I will endure to die twice, if the fates spare the boy to live on.”

“What if ancient Venus returns and forces those separated under the bronze yoke, if blond Chloe is shaken out and the door is open to rejected Lydia?”

“Although that man is fairer than a star, you are lighter than cork and more hot-tempered than the immoderate Adriatic, I would love to live with you, I would freely die with you.”

Horace Ode 3.1

I hate the uninitiated crowd and I keep (it) away; be propitious with your tongues: as priest of the Muses, for girls and boys I sing songs not before heard. Power of kings to be feared is over their own flocks, over the kings themselves is (the power) of Jove, famous for his triumph over the Giants, moving all thing by his eyebrow. It is for (one) man to arrange his trees more widely in his furrows than (another) man, (it is for) this man to go down to the Campus a more well-bread candidate, (it is for) this man to strive better in morals and reputation, (it is for) that man to have a larger crowd of clients: Necessity with fair rule sorts the famous and the lowest; her spacious urn moves every name. For whom a drawn sword hangs over his impious neck, Sicilian feasts will not enhance sweet flavor, the song of birds and the lyre will not lead back sleep: gentle sleep does not scorn the lowly homes of men and the shady bank, not Tempe shaken by the west winds. Neither the turbulent sea nor the savage attack of falling Arcturus or of rising Haedus worries the one desiring what is enough, not vines beaten by hail and a lying farm, with a tree blaming now the waters, now the stars parching the fields, now unfair winters. Fish feel seas narrowed with masses thrown into the deep; hither crowding the contractor throws down the rubble with his slaves and the master scornful of his land: but Fear and Threats climb to the same (place) as (lit. where) the master, nor does black Care leave the bronze-covered trireme, and she sits behind the knight. But if neither Phrygian stone nor the use, brighter than a star, of purples, nor Falernian vine and Achaemenid plant mollifies the man grieving, why with doorposts to be envied and with new rite am I to build a lofty entrance hall? Why am I to exchange troublesome riches for my Sabine vale?