LXXVII.

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And their delight is dance, and the blithe noise
Of song and everflowing poesy;

And sweet, even as desire, the liquid voice
Of pipes, that fills the clear air thrillingly;
But never did my inmost soul rejoice

In this dear work of youthful revelry,
As now I wonder at thee, son of Jove;
Thy harpings and thy song are soft as love.

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LXXVIII.

Now since thou hast, although so very small, Science of arts so glorious, thus I swear, And let this cornel javelin, keen and tall,

Witness between us what I promise here,— That I will lead thee to the Olympian Hall,

Honoured and mighty, with thy mother dear, And many glorious gifts in joy will give thee, And even at the end will ne'er deceive thee."

LXXIX.

To whom thus Mercury with prudent speech :

I

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Wisely hast thou inquired of my skill :

envy thee no thing I know to teach

Even this day :-for both in word and will I would be gentle with thee; thou canst reach All things in thy wise spirit, and thy sill Is highest in heaven among the sons of Jove, Who loves thee in the fulness of his love.

LXXX.

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The Counsellor Supreme has given to thee
Divinest gifts, out of the amplitude

Of his profuse exhaustless treasury;

By thee, 'tis said, the depths are understood

Of his far voice; by thee the mystery

Of all oracular fates,-and the dread mood Of the diviner is breathed up, even I

A child-perceive thy might and majesty—

LXXXI.

"Thou canst seek out and compass all that wit Can find or teach ;-yet since thou wilt, come, take The lyre-be mine the glory giving it—

Strike the sweet chords, and sing aloud, and wake Thy joyous pleasure out of many a fit

Of tranced sound-and with fleet fingers make
Thy liquid-voiced comrade talk with thee,-
It can talk measured music eloquently.

LXXXII.

"Then bear it boldly to the revel loud,
Love-wakening dance, or feast of solemn state,
A joy by night or day-for those endowed
With art and wisdom who interrogate

It teaches, babbling in delightful mood,

All things which make the spirit most elate, Soothing the mind with sweet familiar play, Chasing the heavy shadows of dismay.

LXXXIII.

"To those who are unskilled in its sweet tongue,
Though they should question most impetuously
Its hidden soul, it gossips something wrong—
Some senseless and impertinent reply.

But thou who art as wise as thou art strong,
Can'st compass all that thou desirest. I
Present thee with this music-flowing shell,
Knowing thou canst interrogate it well,

LXXXIV.

And let us two henceforth together feed

On this green mountain slope and pastoral plain, The herds in litigation-they will breed

Quickly enough to recompense our pain,

If to the bulls and cows we take good heed ;-
And thou, though somewhat overfond of gain,
Grudge me not half the profit."-Having spoke,
The shell he proffered, and Apollo took.

LXXXV.

And gave him in return the glittering lash,
Installing him as herdsman ;-from the look
Of Mercury then laughed a joyous flash;

And then Apollo with the plectrum strook
The chords, and from beneath his hands a crash
Of mighty sounds rushed up, whose music shook
The soul with sweetness, and like an adept
His sweeter voice a just accordance kept.

LXXXVI.

The herd went wandering o'er the divine mead,
Whilst these most beautiful Sons of Jupiter
Won their swift way up to the snowy head
Of white Olympus, with the joyous lyre
Soothing their journey; and their father dread
Gathered them both into familiar

Affection sweet,-and then, and now,

and ever,

Hermes must love Him of the Golden Quiver,

LXXXVII.

To whom he gave the lyre that sweetly sounded, Which skilfully he held and played thereon. He piped the while, and far and wide rebounded The echo of his pipings; every one

Of the Olympians sat with joy astounded,
While he conceived another piece of fun,
One of his old tricks-which the God of Day
Perceiving, said:"I fear thee, Son of May;-

LXXXVIII.

"I fear thee and thy sly chamelion spirit,

Lest thou shouldst steal my lyre and crooked bow;
This glory and power thou dost from Jove inherit,
To teach all craft upon the earth below;
Thieves love and worship thee-it is thy merit
To make all mortal business ebb and flow

By roguery-now, Hermes, if
you dare
By sacred Styx a mighty oath to swear,

LXXXIX.

That you will never rob me, you will do
A thing extremely pleasing to my heart."
Then Mercury sware by the Stygian dew,

That he would never steal his bow or dart,
Or lay his hands on what to him was due,
Or ever would employ his powerful art
Against his Pythian fane. Then Phoebus swore
There was no God or man whom he loved more.

XC.

"And I will give thee as a good-will token
The beautiful wand of wealth and happiness;
A perfect three-leaved rod of gold unbroken,
Whose magic will thy footsteps ever bless;
And whatsoever by Jove's voice is spoken
Of earthly or divine from its recess,
It like a loving soul to thee will speak,
And more than this do thou forbear to seek :

XCI.

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'For, dearest child, the divinations high

Which thou requirest, 'tis unlawful ever That thou, or any other deity,

Should understand-and vain were the endeavour; For they are hidden in Jove's mind, and I,

In trust of them, have sworn that I would never Betray the counsels of Jove's inmost will

To any God-the oath was terrible.

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XCII.

'Then, golden-wanded brother, ask me not
To speak the fates by Jupiter designed;
But be it mine to tell their various lot

To the unnumbered tribes of human kind.
Let good to these and ill to those be wrought
As I dispense-but he who comes consigned
By voice and wings of perfect augury
To my great shrine, shall find avail in me.

XCIII.

"Him will I not deceive, but will assist ;
But he who comes relying on such birds
As chatter vainly, who would strain and twist
The purpose of the Gods with idle words,
And deems their knowledge light, he shall have mist
His road—whilst I among my other hoards

His gifts deposit. Yet, O son of May,

I have another wondrous thing to say:

XCIV.

"There are three Fates, three virgin Sisters, who,
Rejoicing in their wind-outspeeding wings,
Their heads with flour snowed over white and new,
Sit in a vale round which Parnassus flings