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All plausible delusions ;—these to you “ Him will I not deceive, but will assist ;
I give ;—if you enquire, they will not stutter ;
Delight your own soul with them :-any man
But he who comes relying on such birds
As chatter vainly, who would strain and twist
You would instruct may profit if he can.
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 “Take these and the fierce oxen, Maia's child-
His gifts deposit. Yet, O son of May,
O'er many a horse and toil enduring mule, I have another wondrous thing to say :
O'er jagged-jawed lions, and the wild
White-tusked boars, o'er all, by field or pool,
Of cattle which the mighty Mother mild “ There are three Fates, three virgin Sisters, who, Nourishes in her bosom, thou shalt rule
Rejoicing in their wind-outspeeding wings, Thou dost alone the veil of death uplift-
Their heads with our snowed over white and new, Thou givest not—yet this is a great gift.”
Sit in a vale round which Parnassus flings
Its circling skirts—from these I have learned true
Vaticinations of remotest things.
My father cared not. Whilst they search out dooms, Thus King Apollo loved the child of May
They sit apart and feed on honeycombs.
In truth, and Jove covered them with love and joy.
Hermes with Gods and men even from that day
Mingled, and wrought the latter much annoy,
“ They, having eaten the fresh honey, grow And little profit, going far astray
Drunk with divine enthusiasm, and utter
Through the dun night. Farewell, delightful Boy, With earnest willingness the truth they know ; Of Jove and Maia sprung, --never by me,
But, if deprived of that sweet food, they mutter Nor thou, nor other songs, shall unremembered be.
Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twins of Jove,
Whom the fair-ancled Leda mixed in love
With mighty Saturn's heaven-obscuring Child,
On Taygetus, that lofty mountain wild,
Brought forth in joy, mild Pollux void of blame,
And steel-subduing Castor, heirs of fame.
These are the Powers who earth-born mortals
And ships, whose flight is swift along the wave.
When wintry tempests o'er the savage sea
Are raging, and the sailors tremblingly
Call on the Twins of Jove with prayer and vow,
Gathered in fear upon the lofty prow,
And sacrifice with snow-white lambs, the wind
And the huge billow bursting close behind,
Even then beneath the weltering waters bear
The staggering ship—they suddenly appear,
On yellow wings rushing athwart the sky,
And lull the blasts in mute tranquillity,
And strew the waves on the white ocean's bed,
Fair omen of the voyage; from toil and dread,
The sailors rest, rejoicing in the sight,
And plough the quiet sea in safe delight.
DAUGHTERS of Jove, whose voice is melody,
Muses, who know and rule all minstrelsy!
Sing the wide-winged Moon. Around the earth,
From her immortal head in Heaven shot forth,
Far light is scattered-boundless glory springs,
Where'er she spreads her many-beaming wings
The lampless air glows round her golden crown,
But when the Moon divine from Heaven is gone
Under the sea, her beams within abide,
Till, bathing her bright limbs in Ocean's tide,
Clothing her form in garments glittering far,
And having yoked to her immortal car
The beam-invested steeds, whose necks on high
Curve back, she drives to a remoter sky
A western Crescent, borne impetuously.
Then is made full the circle of her light,
And as shegrows, her beams more bright and bright,
Are poured from Heaven, where she is hovering
A wonder and a sign to mortal men. (then,
The Son of Saturn with this glorious Power
Mingled in love and sleep—to whom she bore,
Pandeia, a bright maid of beauty rare
Among the Gods, whose lives eternal are.
Hail Queen, great Moon, white-armed Divinity,
Fair-haired and favourable, thus with thee,
My song beginning, by its music sweet
Shall make immortal many a glorious feat
Of demigods, with lovely lips, so well
Which minstrels, servants of the muses, tell.
OFFSPRING of Jove, Calliope, once more
To the bright Sun, thy hymn of music pour ;
Whom to the child of star-clad Heaven and Earth
Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, brought forth ;
Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair,
Of great Hyperion, who to him did bear
A race of loveliest children ; the young Morn,
Whose arms are like twin roses newly born,
The fair-haired Moon, and the immortal Sun,
Who, borne by heavenly steeds his race doth run
Unconquerably, illuming the abodes
Of mortal men and the eternal gods.
Fiercely look forth his awe-inspiring eyes,
Beneath his golden helmet, whence arise
And are shot forth afar, clear beams of light;
His countenance with radiant glory bright,
Beneath his graceful locks far shines around,
And the light vest with which his limbs are bound,
Of woof etherial, delicately twined
Glows in the stream of the uplifting wind.
His rapid steeds soon bear him to the west;
Where their steep flight his hands divine arrest,
And the fleet car with yoke of gold, which he
Sends from bright heaven beneath the shadowy sea.
The life of mortal men beneath thy sway Is held ; thy power both gives and takes
away Happy are they whom thy mild favours nourish, All things unstinted round them grow and flourish. For them, endures the life sustaining field Its load of harvest, and their cattle yield Large increase, and their house with wealth is filled. Such honoured dwell in cities fair and free, The homes of lovely women, prosperously; Their sons exult in youth's new budding gladness, And their fresh daughters free from care or sadWith bloom-inwoven dance and happy song, (ness, On the soft flowers the meadow-grass among, Leap round them sporting—such delights by thee Are given, rich Power, revered Divinity.
Mother of gods, thou wife of starry Heaven, Farewell ! be thou propitious, and be given A happy life for this brief melody, Nor thou nor other songs shall unremembered be.
TO THE EARTH, MOTHER OF ALL.
O UNIVERSAL mother, who dost keep
From everlasting thy foundations deep,
Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee ;
All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea,
All things that fly, or on the ground divine
Live, move, and there are nourished—these are
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
Athenian Pallas ! tameless, chaste, and wise,
Trilogenia, town-preserving maid,
Revered and mighty ; from his awful head
Whom Jove brought forth, in warlike armour drest,
Golden, all radiant ! wonder strange possessed
The everlasting Gods that shape to see,
Shaking a javelin keen, impetuously
Rush from the crest of Ægis-bearing Jove;
Fearfully Heaven was shaken, and did move
Beneath the might of the Cerulean-eyed;
Earth dreadfully resounded, far and wide,
And lifted from its depths, the sea swelled high
In purple billows, the tide suddenly
Stood still, and great Hyperion's son long time
Checked his swift steeds, till where she stood sub-
Pallas from her immortal shoulders threw [lime,
The arms divine ; wise Jove rejoiced to view.
Child of the Ægis-bearer, hail to thee, [be.
Nor thine nor others' praise shall unremembered
These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from thee Fair babes are born, and fruits on every tree Hang ripe and large, revered Divinity!
In a cave neat and clean. Even now I see
My children tending the flocks hitherward.
Ha! what is this? are your Sicinnian measures
Even now the same as when with dance and song
You brought young Bacchus to Athæa's halls ?
O Bacchus, what a world of toil, both now
And ere these limbs were overworn with age,
Have I endured for thee! First, when thou fled'st
The mountain-nymphs who nurst thee, driven afar
By the strange madness Juno sent upon thee;
Then in the battle of the sons of Earth,
When I stood foot by foot close to thy side,
No unpropitious fellow combatant,
And, driving through his shield my winged spear,
Slew vast Enceladus. Consider now,
Is it a dream of which I speak to thee?
By Jove it is not, for you have the trophies !
And now I suffer more than all before.
For, when I heard that Juno had devised
A tedious voyage for you, I put to sea
With all my children quaint in search of you,
And I myself stood on the beaked prow
And fixed the naked mast; and all my boys,
Leaning upon their oars, with splash and strain
Made white with foam the green and purple sea,-
And so we sought you, king. We were sailing
Near Malea, when an eastern wind arose,
And drove us to this wild /Etnean rock;
The one-eyed children of the Ocean God,
The man-destroying Cyclopses inhabit,
On this wild shore, their solitary caves ;
And one of these, named Polypheme, has caught us
To be his slaves; and so, for all delight
Of Bacchic sports, sweet dance and melody,
We keep this lawless giant's wandering flocks.
My sons indeed, on far declivities,
Young things themselves, tend on the youngling
But I remain to fill the water casks, (sheep,
Or sweeping the hard floor, or ministering
Some impious and abominable meal
To the fell Cyclops. I am wearied of it!
And now I must scrape up the littered floor
With this great iron rake, so to receive
My absent master and his evening sheep
I see a Grecian vessel on the coast,
And thence the rowers, with some general,
Approaching to this cave. About their necks
Hang empty vessels, as they wanted food,
And water-flasks.-0 miserable strangers !
Whence come they, that they know not what and who
My master is, approaching in ill hour
The inhospitable roof of Polypheme,
And the Cyclopian jaw-bone, man-destroying ?
Be silent, Satyrs, while I ask and hear,
Whence coming, they arrive the Ætnean hill.
Shepherds: no one obeys any in aught.
How live they? do they sow the corn of Ceres?
On milk and cheese, and on the flesh of sheep.
Friends, can you show me some clear water spring, Have they the Bromian drink from the vine's stream?
The remedy of our thirst? Will any one
Furnish with food seamen in want of it?
Ha! what is this? We seem to be arrived
Ah ! no; they live in an ungracious land.
At the blithe court of Bacchus. I observe
This sportive band of Satyrs near the caves.
And are they just to strangers ?-hospitable ? First let me greet the elder.—Hail !
They think the sweetest thing a stranger brings,
Hail thou, Is his own flesh. O Stranger! Tell thy country and thy race.
What ! do they eat man's flesh ?
The Ithacan Ulysses and the king
No one comes here who is not eaten up.
Oh! I know the man,
Wordy and shrewd, the son of Sisyphus.
The Cyclops now-where is he? Not at home?
The son of Bacchus, for your clearer knowledge.
* The wanton wretch! She was bewitched to see The many-coloured anklets and the chain Of woven gold which girt the neck of Paris, And so she left that good man Menelaus. There should be no more women in the world But such as are reserved for me alone. See, here are sheep, and here are goats, Ulysses ; Here are unsparing cheeses of pressed milk; Take them ; depart with what good speed ye may; First leaving my reward, the Bacchic dew Of joy-inspiring grapes.
Ah me! Alas! What shall we do? the Cyclops is at hand ! Old man, we perish ! whither can we fly?
Hide yourselves quick within that hollow rock.
'Twere perilous to Ay into the net.
Here is the cup, together with the skin.