D. A. West, in Horace Odes I: Carpe Diem, Oxford 1995, 6-7:
In Horace the tone is often elusive. Perhaps the nearest thing in English is the parody [of Odes 1.1] by Kipling in ‘A Diversity of Creatures’:
There are whose study is of smells,
Who to attentive schools rehearse
How something mixed with something else
Makes something worse.
Some cultivate in broths impure
The clients of our body; these,
Increasing without Venus, cure
Or cause disease.
Others the heated wheel extol,
And all its offspring, whose concern
Is how to make it farthest roll
And fastest turn.
Me, much incurious if the hour
Present, or to be paid for, brings
Me to Brundisium by the power
Of wheels or wings,
Me, in whose breast no flame has burned
Life long, save that by Pindar lit,
Such lore leaves cold; nor have I turned
Aside for it,
More than when, sunk in thought profound
of what the unaltered Gods require,
My steward (friend but slave) brings round
Logs for my fire.