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SOPHOCLES.
old home. Horace describes his farewell banquet, and his spirited address to the companions of his voyage:
"Where fortune bears us, than my sire more kind,
There let us go, my own, my gallant crew:
'Tis Teucer leads, 'tis Teucer breathes the wind;
No more despair; Apollo's word is true.
Another Salamis in kindlier air
Shall yet arise. Hearts, that have borne with me
Worse buffets! drown, to-day, in wine your care;
To-morrow we recross the wide, wide sea!"[1]
- ↑ Odes, I. 7 (Conington's Transl.)
