And then, refreshed, our tasks resume again, If other tasks we yet are bound unto, Combing the hoary tresses of the main With sharp swift keel anew.”
O heroes, that had once a nobler aim, O heroes, sprung from many a godlike line, What will ye do, unmindful of your fame, And of your race divine?
But they, by these prevailing voices now Lured, evermore draw nearer to the land, Nor saw the wrecks of many a goodly prow, That strewed that fatal strand;
Or seeing, feared not—warning taking none From the plain doom of all who went before, Whose bones lay bleaching in the wind and sun, And whitened all the shore.
“QUIN huc,” fremebant, “dirigimus ratem: Hic, dote læti divitis insulæ, Paullisper hæremus, futuri Nec memores operis, nec acti:
“Curas refecti cras iterabimus, Si qua supersunt emeritis novæ Pexisse pernices acuta Canitiem pelagi carina.”
O rebus olim nobilioribus Pares: origo Dî quibus ac Deæ Heroës! oblitine famiæ Hæc struitis, generisque summi?
Atqui propinquant jam magis ac magis, Ducti magistra voce, solum: neque Videre prorarum nefandas Fragmina nobilium per oras;
Vidisse seu non poenitet—ominis Incuriosos tot præëuntium, Quorum ossa sol siccantque venti, Candet adhuc quibus omnis ora.
“Quicquid agunt homines, nostri est farrago libelli.”