Page:Satires, Epistles, Art of Poetry of Horace - Coningsby (1874).djvu/154

In quest of bliss beyond a bath or stove:
And you, though tossed just now by a stiff breeze,
Don't therefore sell your vessel beyond seas.
But what are Rhodes and Lesbos, and the rest,
E'en let a traveller rate them at their best?
No more the wants of healthy minds they meet
Than does a jersey in a driving sleet,
A cloak in summer, Tiber through the snow,
A chafing-dish in August's midday glow.
So, while health lasts, and Fortune keeps her smiles,
We'll pay our devoir to your Grecian isles,
Praise them on this condition--that we stay
In our own land, a thousand miles away.
Seize then each happy hour the gods dispense,
Nor fix enjoyment for a twelvemonth hence.
So may you testify with truth, where'er
You're quartered, 'tis a pleasure to be there:
For if the cure of mental ills is due
To sense and wisdom, not a fine sea-view,
We come to this; when o'er the world we range
'Tis but our climate, not our mind we change.
What active inactivity is this,
To go in ships and cars to search for bliss!
No; what you seek, at Ulubræ you'll find,
If to the quest you bring a balanced mind.