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YE wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twins of Jove,
TO THE MOON.
DAUGHTERs of Jove, whose voice is melody,
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 she grows, 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, t 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.
TO THE SUN.
Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once more
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.
TO THE EARTH, MOTHER OF ALL.
O UNIVERSAL mother, who dost keep
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.
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
Silenus. 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 AEtnean 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
In a cave neat and clean. Even now I see
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Chorus of SATYRs. sTrophe. Where has he of raee divine Wandered in the winding rocks? Here the air is calm and fine For the father of the flocks;– Here the grass is soft and sweet, And the river-eddies meet In the trough beside the cave, Bright as in their fountain wave.— Neither here, nor on the dew Of the lawny uplands feeding? Oh, you come!—a stone at you Will I throw to mend your breeding;Get along, you horned thing, Wild, seditious, rambling !
Epode.* An Iacchic melody To the golden Aphrodite Will I lift, as erst did I Seeking her and her delight With the Maenads, whose white feet To the music glance and fleet. Bacchus, O beloved, where, Shaking wide thy yellow hair, Wanderest thou alone, afar? To the one-eyed Cyclops, we, Who by right thy servants are, Minister in misery, In these wretched goat-skins clad, Far from thy delights and thee.
The Antistrophe is omitted