Echoes from the Sabine Farm | Page 2

given to the world--and this has been taken to
mean more than was intended, and much unearned praise has been
bestowed. But, in allusion to the original issue of the Odes, Field added,
"in this charming guise," which places quite another construction upon
the matter.

It may be that the enthusiasm displayed not only pleased Field, and
incited him and his brother Roswell to perform that which, otherwise,
might have been indefinitely deferred, but there is no question but that
they intended to publish the Horatian odes at some time or another.
Field was greatly delighted with the reception of this work, and I once
heard him say it would outlive all his other books. He came naturally
by his love of the classics. His father was a splendid scholar who
obliged his sons to correspond with him in Latin. Field's favorite ode
was the Bandusian Spring, the paraphrasing of which in the styles of
the various writers of different periods gave him genuine joy and is
perhaps the choice bit of the collection. The Echoes from the Sabine
Farm was the most ambitious work Field had attempted up to the time
of its issue. He was not at all sure that the public for whom he wrote,
what following he then felt was his own, would accept his efforts in
this direction with any sort of acclaim. Unquestionably, Field, at all
times, believed in himself and in his power ultimately to make a name,
as every man must who achieves success, but he was as far from
believing that the public would accept him as an interpreter of Horatian
odes as was Edward Fitzgerald with respect to Omar Khayyám. In short,
he looked upon his work in the original publication of Echoes from the
Sabine Farm as a labor of love--an effort from which some reputation
might come, but certainly no monetary remuneration. It was because he
so regarded it that he permitted the work to be first issued under the
bolstering influence of a patron. It was, so he thought, an excellent
opportunity to show his friends and acquaintances that his Pegasus was
capable of soaring to classic heights, and he little dreamed that the
paraphrasing of the Odes of Horace over which "Rose and I have been
fooling" would be required for a popular edition. With the
announcement of the Scribner edition of The Sabine Echoes came also
the intelligence of Field's death.
I have found people who were somewhat puzzled as to the exact
intentions of the Fields with respect to these translations and
paraphrases. However, there can be no chance for mistake even to the
veriest embryonic reader of Horace, if he will but remember that, while
some of these transcriptions are indeed very faithful reproductions or
adaptations of the original, others again are to be accepted as the very

riot of burlesque verse-making.
The last stanza in the epilogue of this book reads:
Or if we part to meet no more
This side the misty Stygian river,
Be
sure of this: On yonder shore
Sweet cheer awaiteth such as we--
A
Sabine pagan's heaven, O friend--
And fellowship that knows no end.
FRANCIS WILSON.
January 22, 1896.
TO M.L. GRAY.
Come, dear old friend, and with us twain
To calm Digentian groves
repair;
The turtle coos his sweet refrain
And posies are a-blooming
there;
And there the romping Sabine girls
Bind myrtle in their
lustrous curls.
I know a certain ilex-tree
Whence leaps a fountain cool and clear.

Its voices summon you and me;
Come, let us haste to share its cheer!

Methinks the rapturous song it sings
Should woo our thoughts
from mortal things.
But, good old friend, I charge thee well,
Watch thou my brother all
the while,
Lest some fair Lydia cast her spell
Round him
unschooled in female guile.
Those damsels have no charms for me;

Guard thou that brother,--I'll guard thee!
And, lo, sweet friend! behold this cup,
Round which the garlands
intertwine;
With Massic it is foaming up,
And we would drink to
thee and thine.
And of the draught thou shalt partake,
Who lov'st us
for our father's sake.
Hark you! from yonder Sabine farm
Echo the songs of long ago,

With power to soothe and grace to charm
What ills humanity may

know;
With that sweet music in the air,
'T is Love and Summer
everywhere.
So, though no grief consumes our lot
(Since all our lives have been
discreet),
Come, in this consecrated spot,
Let's see if pagan cheer be
sweet.
Now, then, the songs; but, first, more wine.
The gods be with
you, friends of mine!
E.F.
The Contents of this Book
WRITTEN IN COLLABORATION WITH ROSWELL MARTIN
FIELD
TO M.L. GRAY E.F. AN INVITATION TO MÆCENAS. Odes, III.
29 E.F. CHLORIS PROPERLY REBUKED. Odes, III. 15 R.M.F. TO
THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA. Odes, III. 13 E.F.
TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA.