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HORACE I. 22.

WHO is free from life's contagion

Never, Fuscus, need he fear

Poisoned arrow, clever archer,

Never dread the Maurian spear;

If he roam through shifting Syrtes,

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Caucasus' unfriendly shores,

Or where India's affluent river

Gold in every torrent pours.

I was humming "My Lelage,"

Straying on without a care,

In my Sabine wood I wandered,

When a wolf sprang from its lair.

But he fled, and such an omen

Heaven-sent must be, I know:

Mauritania, Greece, Numidia, -

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