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Document Max. Freq Min. Freq
Herodotus, The Histories (ed. A. D. Godley) 12 0 Browse Search
Pausanias, Description of Greece 10 0 Browse Search
Euripides, The Trojan Women (ed. E. P. Coleridge) 8 0 Browse Search
Euripides, Helen (ed. E. P. Coleridge) 6 0 Browse Search
Diodorus Siculus, Library 6 0 Browse Search
Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War 4 0 Browse Search
E. T. Merrill, Commentary on Catullus (ed. E. T. Merrill) 4 0 Browse Search
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington) 4 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More) 4 0 Browse Search
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley) 4 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington). You can also browse the collection for Aegean or search for Aegean in all documents.

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Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington), Book 2, Poem 16 (search)
For ease, in wide Aegean caught, The sailor prays, when clouds are hiding The moon, nor shines of starlight aught For seaman's guiding: For ease the Mede, with quiver gay: For ease rude Thrace, in battle cruel: Can purple buy it, Grosphus? Nay, Nor gold, nor jewel. No pomp, no lictor clears the way 'Mid rabble-routs of troublous feelings, Nor quells the cares that sport and play Round gilded ceilings. More happy he whose modest board His father's well-worn silver brightens; No fear, nor lust for sordid hoard, His light sleep frightens. Why bend our bows of little span? Why change our homes for regions under Another sun? What exiled man From self can sunder? Care climbs the bark, and trims the sail, Curst fiend! nor troops of horse can 'scape her, More swift than stag, more swift than gale That drives the vapour. Blest in the present, look not forth On ills beyond, but soothe each bitter With slow, calm smile. No suns on earth Unclouded glitter. Achilles' light was quench'd at noon; A
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington), Book 3, Poem 29 (search)
unks uptorn, And waveworn crags, and farms, and stock, In chaos blent, while hill and wood Reverberate to the enormous shock, When savage rains the tranquil flood Have stirr'd to madness. Happy he, Self-centred, who each night can say, “My life is lived: the morn may see A clouded or a sunny day: That rests with Jove: but what is gone, He will not, cannot turn to nought; Nor cancel, as a thing undone, What once the flying hour has brought.” Fortune, who loves her cruel game, Still bent upon some heartless whim, Shifts her caresses, fickle dame, Now kind to me, and now to him: She stays; 'tis well: but let her shake Those wings, her presents I resign, Cloak me in native worth, and take Chaste Poverty undower'd for mine. Though storms around my vessel rave, I will not fall to craven prayers, Nor bargain by my vows to save My Cyprian and Sidonian wares, Else added to the insatiate main. Then through the wild Aegean roar The breezes and the Brethren Twain Shall waft my little boat ash