Eugene Field is fed up with prim scholars who paint the Roman poet Horace as a stuffy moralist. He jumps in with both feet, insisting that Horace was a lively, love-chasing troublemaker whose poems are full of real escapades, not tame metaphors. The speaker’s tone is playfully indignant—he calls these critics "fossils" and "crazy," and he winks at the reader with slang like "raising Hades" and calling Horace a "daisy." You can almost hear him scoffing: why whitewash someone who so clearly enjoyed himself? The poem barrels along with a catchy, almost sing-song rhythm that makes the argument feel like a barroom toast. The mood is comic, irreverent, and warm—Field wants to rescue Horace from the lecture hall and remind us that great poetry often comes from someone who knew how to live it up, with Maecenas happily footing the bill.
The Truth About hHorace — Summary
It is very aggravating To hear the solemn prating Of the fossils who are stating That old Horace was a prude; When we know that with the ladies He was always raising Hades, And with many an escapade his Best productions are imbued.
There's really not much harm in a Large number of his carmina, But these people find alarm in a Few records of his acts; So they'd squelch the muse caloric, And to students sophomoric They d present as metaphoric What old Horace meant for facts.
We have always thought 'em lazy; Now we adjudge 'em crazy! Why, Horace was a daisy That was very much alive! And the wisest of us know him As his Lydia verses show him,-- Go, read that virile poem,-- It is No. 25.
He was a very owl, sir, And starting out to prowl, sir, You bet he made Rome howl, sir, Until he filled his date; With a massic-laden ditty And a classic maiden pretty He painted up the city, And Maecenas paid the freight!