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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington). Search the whole document.

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Egypt (Egypt) (search for this): book 1, poem 37
Now drink we deep, now featly tread A measure; now before each shrine With Salian feasts the table spread; The time invites us, comrades mine. 'Twas shame to broach, before today, The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame Threaten'd our power in dust to lay And wrap the Capitol in flame, Girt with her foul emasculate throng, By Fortune's sweet new wine befool'd, In hope's ungovern'd weakness strong To hope for all; but soon she cool'd, To see one ship from burning 'scape; Great Caesar taught her dizzy brain, Made mad by Mareotic grape, To feel the sobering truth of pain, And gave her chase from Italy, As after doves fierce falcons speed, As hunters 'neath Haemonia's sky Chase the tired hare, so might he lead The fiend enchain'd; she sought to die More nobly, nor with woman's dread Quail'd at the steel, nor timorously In her fleet ships to covert fled. Amid her ruin'd halls she stood Unblench'd, and fearless to the end Grasp'd the fell snakes, that all her blood Might with the cold black venom
Italy (Italy) (search for this): book 1, poem 37
le spread; The time invites us, comrades mine. 'Twas shame to broach, before today, The Caecuban, while Egypt's dame Threaten'd our power in dust to lay And wrap the Capitol in flame, Girt with her foul emasculate throng, By Fortune's sweet new wine befool'd, In hope's ungovern'd weakness strong To hope for all; but soon she cool'd, To see one ship from burning 'scape; Great Caesar taught her dizzy brain, Made mad by Mareotic grape, To feel the sobering truth of pain, And gave her chase from Italy, As after doves fierce falcons speed, As hunters 'neath Haemonia's sky Chase the tired hare, so might he lead The fiend enchain'd; she sought to die More nobly, nor with woman's dread Quail'd at the steel, nor timorously In her fleet ships to covert fled. Amid her ruin'd halls she stood Unblench'd, and fearless to the end Grasp'd the fell snakes, that all her blood Might with the cold black venom blend, Death's purpose flushing in her face; Nor to our ships the glory gave, That she, no vulga