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Document | Max. Freq | Min. Freq | ||
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Herodotus, The Histories (ed. A. D. Godley) | 202 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Polybius, Histories | 132 | 0 | Browse | Search |
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley) | 56 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Pausanias, Description of Greece | 44 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Diodorus Siculus, Library | 34 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Apollodorus, Library and Epitome (ed. Sir James George Frazer) | 28 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Strabo, Geography | 20 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Richard Hakluyt, The Principal Navigations, Voyages, Traffiques, and Discoveries of the English Nation | 18 | 0 | Browse | Search |
P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (ed. Theodore C. Williams) | 16 | 0 | Browse | Search |
Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War | 14 | 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 Libya (Libya) or search for Libya (Libya) in all documents.
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Maecenas, born of monarch ancestors,
The shield at once and glory of my life!
There are who joy them in the Olympic strife
And love the dust they gather in the course;
The goal by hot wheels shunn'd, the famous prize,
Exalt them to the gods that rule mankind;
This joys, if rabbles fickle as the wind
Through triple grade of honours bid him rise,
That, if his granary has stored away
Of Libya's thousand floors the yield entire;
The man who digs his field as did his sire,
With honest pride, no Attalus may sway
By proffer'd wealth to tempt Myrtoan seas,
The timorous captain of a Cyprian bark.
The winds that make Icarian billows dark
The merchant fears, and hugs the rural ease
Of his own village home; but soon, ashamed
Of penury, he refits his batter'd craft.
There is, who thinks no scorn of Massic draught,
Who robs the daylight of an hour unblamed,
Now stretch'd beneath the arbute on the sward,
Now by some gentle river's sacred spring;
Some love the camp, the clarion's joyous ring,
And ba
The silver, Sallust, shows not fair
While buried in the greedy mine:
You love it not till moderate wear
Have given it shine.
Honour to Proculeius! he
To brethren play'd a father's part;
Fame shall embalm through years to be
That noble heart.
Who curbs a greedy soul may boast
More power than if his broad-based throne
Bridged Libya's sea, and either coast
Were all his own.
Indulgence bids the dropsy grow;
Who fain would quench the palate's flame
Must rescue from the watery foe
The pale weak frame.
Phraates, throned where Cyrus sate,
May count for blest with vulgar herds,
But not with Virtue; soon or late
From lying words
She weans men's lips; for him she keeps
The crown, the purple, and the bays,
Who dares to look on treasure-heaps
With unblench'd gaze.