Page:The Bromsgrovian, 1883-06-08, New Series, Volume 2, Number 5.pdf/14

  This I have written deep
  In my reflective midriff,
  On tablets not of wax.
Nor with a stylus did I write it there,
For obvious reasons: Life, I say, is not
  Divested of uncertainty.
Not from the flight of omen-yelling fowls
  This truth did I discover,
Nor did the Delphian tripod bark it out,
    Nor yet Dodona.
Its native ingenuity sufficed
  My self-taught diaphragm.

[Antistrophe.    Why should I mention
The Inacheian daughter, loved of Zeus,
  Her whom of old the gods,
  More provident than kind,
Provided with four hoofs, two horns, one tail,
    A gift not asked for.
  And sent her forth to learn
  The unaccustomed science
  Of how to chew the cud?
She, therefore, all about the Argive fields,
Went cropping pale green grass and nettle tops,
  Nor did they disagree with her;
But yet, however wholesome, such repasts,
  Myself, I deem unpleasant.
Never may Cypris for her seat select
    My dappled liver!
Why should I mention Io, I repeat.
  I have no notion why.

[Epode.  Why does my boding heart
  Unhired, unaccompanied, sing
  A most displeasing tune?
  Nay even the palace appears
  To my yoke of circular eyes,