In secret shall I own my fond alarms,
And boldly clasp the stranger in these arms?
Oh! were he lost-would that event bestow
A pause from love-a remedy for woe?
Would not the soul, enamour'd of her grief,、
Pursue his image, and disclaim relief?
Farewell, decorum! farewell, every joy!
Let his existence all my thoughts employ,
Whatever destiny for me remains,
Fair youth, in safety fly where fate ordains.
Mayst thou but know, that from Medea's power
Protection follow'd in that fearful hour,
And I am satisfied. Pursue thy fate;
Leave thy deliverer to misfortune's hate.
His conflict over, death shall end my care;
Whether I perish pendulous in air,
Or rest from pain the' envenom'd potion give.
But shall not then the tale of shame survive?
Scorn and derision shall attend my fall,
And taunts resound within this peopled wall.
Each Colchian female shall her death deride,
Who, slave of passion, for a stranger died.
A wanton, heedless of her virgin fame,
Who stain'd her parents and her house with shame.
O foul offence, no language can defend!
Disgrace to womanhood, that ne'er shall end!
No; better here resign this hated breath,
And fly reproach, so multiplied, in death.
This very chamber, and this very time,
Present a refuge from the monstrous crime.'
'She ceased-and rising for a coffer sought,
With potent drugs of various influence fraught;
Some genial; some, with operation dark,
Could sense perturb, and quench the vital spark.
Upon her knees the hoarded philtres rest;
While tears, a ceaseless torrent, bathed her breast:
From grief and love unequal'd they descend,
While for those sufferings she prepares an end.
The friendly bane determined now to taste,
She touch'd the bands that held the coffer fast;
And thought the balm of all her cares to find,
When sudden terrors rush'd upon her mind.
She paused astonish'd. For, before her eyes
The forms of death, in all their terrors, rise.
And in succession, blandishing, appears
All that allures the wish, and life endears;
Each darling child of hope and fancy bright,
That bids the senses teem with young delight;
And every joy that to the' expanded heart
The mutual wish and social hours impart.
Sudden a fairer face all nature show'd,
In streams more gay the solar radiance flow'd.
Again the coffer on her knees she placed,
While various objects in her soul she traced;
For Juno's influence in her bosom wrought,
And gave the final bias to her thought.
No more she doubts, by warring motives drawn,
With settled aim she wishes for the dawn;
That Jason she might meet, gaze on his charms,
And drugs impart to guard the youth from harms.
Oft she unbarr'd her portals through the night;
And look'd, and look'd, to mark approaching light.
Ah, wretched maid! nor song nor sport had power
To fix attention in the sportive hour.
Sport seem'd impertinent, and harsh the strain, Through music's varied soul pursued in vain;
The varied melodies displease alike,
No chord composure to the soul can strike.
Scarce can her train allure the wandering eye,
To different objects thought and wishes fly.
Absent she sat, in meditation drown'd,
And gazed on all the distant pathways round;
Intent with eager eyes and head reclined,
At sound of trampling foot or sighs of wind;
The fluttering heart seem'd wing'd to leave her
And painful throbs the glowing breath suppress'd.
He comes the subject of her fond alarms—
He comes in all the majesty of charms;
With footsteps light, exulting o'er the plain,
And bright as Sirius rising from the main;
All beauteous from the briny surge he springs,
But death and mourning to the fold he brings;
Such fatal splendour Jason's charms impart,
Joy to the sight, but sorrow to the heart:
Sad interview, from thee the maid shall know
A direful tissue of reproach and woe!
Her hurried heart within her bosom flies,
A sudden darkness veils her swimming eyes;
Her burning cheek the deepest blush suffused,
Her trembling knees to bear her frame refused.
To fly or to proceed, vain, vain her toil;
Her feet beneath are rooted to the soil.
Now quickly vanish'd all the' attendant train,
Silent the hero and the maid remain.
No limb they moved; but, in astonish'd mood,
With gaze delighted, near each other stood;
Nor sounds nor gestures animation show,
Like oaks or firs that on the mountains grow;
Whose peaceful heads all motionless arise,
While not a breeze is stirring in the skies;
But, when the tempests agitate the steep,
They wave, they bellow, as the whirlwinds sweep.
Thus stood the youthful pair, ordain'd to prove
A mighty change, beneath the storms of love;
Ordain'd that flowing eloquence to find,
That passion dictates to the' enamour'd mind.
FROM THE GREEK OF PINDAR.
THE happy mortal who these treasures shares,
Well knows what fate attends his generous cares;
Knows that beyond the verge of life and light,
In the sad regions of infernal night,
The fierce, impracticable, churlish mind,
Avenging gods and penal woes shall find;
Where strict inquiring justice shall bewray
The crimes committed in the realms of day.
The' impartial judge the rigid law declares,
No more to be reversed by penitence or prayers.
But in the happy fields of light,
Where Phoebus with an equal ray
Illuminates the balmy night,
And gilds the cloudless day,
In peaceful unmolested joy,
The good their smiling hours employ.
Them no uneasy wants constrain
To vex the' ungrateful soil,
To tempt the dangers of the billowy main, And break their strength with unabating toil, A frail disastrous being to maintain.
But in their joyous calm abodes,
The recompense of justice they receive;
And in the fellowship of gods
Without a tear eternal ages live.
While, banish'd by the Fates from joy and rest,
Intolerable woes the impious soul infest.
But they who, in true virtue strong,
The third purgation* can endure;
And keep their minds from fraudful wrong
And guilt's contagion pure;
They through the starry paths of Jove
To Saturn's blissful seat remove;
Where fragrant breezes, vernal airs,
Sweet children of the main,
Purge the bless'd island from corroding cares, And fan the bosom of each verdant plain; Whose fertile soil immortal fruitage bears:
Trees, from whose flaming branches flow, Array'd in golden bloom, refulgent beams;
And flowers of golden hue that blow
On the fresh borders of their parent streams. These by the bless'd in solemn triumph worn, Their unpolluted hands and clustering locks adorn.
* Pindar in this follows the opinion of Pythagoras, who held the transmigration of the soul; according to which doctrine the several bodies, into which the soul successively passes, were so many purgatories, that served to refine and purify it by degrees, till it was at last rendered fit to enter into the Fortunate Islands, the Paradise of the Ancients
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