#AmericanWriters
What time I read your mighty line… O Mr. Q. Horatius Flaccus, In praise of many an ancient wine— You twanged a wickid lyric to Bac… I wondered, like a Yankee hick,
Horace: Book III, Ode 3 “Carminis interea nostri redæmus… Let us return, then, for a time, To our accustomed round of rhyme; And let my songs’ familiar art
The rich man has his motor-car, His country and his town estate. He smokes a fifty-cent cigar And jeers at Fate. He frivols through the livelong da…
AFTER HENLEY Where are the wheezes they essayed And where the smiles they made to… Where’s Caron’s seltzer siphon la… A squirt from which laid Herbert…
Shall I, lying in a grot, Die because the day is hot? Or declare I can’t endure Such a torrid temperature? Be it hotter than the flames
Before I was a travelled bird, I scoffed, in my provincial way, At other lands; I deemed absurd All nations but these U.S.A. And—although Middle-Western born—
I saw him lying cold and dead Who yesterday was whole. “Why,” I inquired, “hath he expir… And why hath fled his soul? ”but yesterday," his comrade said,
Horace: Book III, Ode 13 "O fons Bandisiæ, splendidior vit… WORTHY of flowers and syrups sw… O fountain of Bandusian onyx, To-morrow shall a goatling’s bleat
When the Festal Board, as the pap… Groans 'neath the weight of a lot… At breakfast, Fruhstuck or dejeun… (As a bard tri-lingual I’m rather… At breakfast, then, if I may repe…
Man hath harnessed the lightning; Man hath soared to the skies; Mountain and hill are clay to his… Skillful he is, and wise. Sea to sea hath he wedded,
Horace: Book I, Ode 19 “Mater sæva Cupidinum” Venus, the cruel mother of The Cupids (symbolising Love), Bids me to muse upon and sigh
[And here is a suggestion: Did you ever try dictating your stories or articles to the dictaphone for the first draft? I would be glad to have you come down and make the experiment.—From...
The Passionate Householder to his… Come, live with us and be our cook… And we will all the whimsies brook That German, Irish, Swede, and S… And all the dear domestics have.
Horace: Book III, Ode 9 “Donec eram gratus tibi—” HORACE, PVT.—TH INFANTR… While I was fussing you at home You put the notion in my dome
Horace: Book I, Ode 11 “Tu ne quaesieris—scire nefas —quem mihi; quem tibi—” AD LEUCONOEN Nay querry not, Leuconoë, the fin…
