Proportion'd to the work; thou seest impartial,
How they those means employ. Each monarch rules
His different realm, accountable to thee,

Great ruler of the world: these only have
To speak and be obey'd; to those are given
Assistant days to ripen the design;

To some whole months; revolving years to some;
Others, ill-fated, are condemn'd to toil

Their tedious life, and mourn their purpose blasted With fruitless act, and impotence of council.

Hail! greatest son of Saturn, wise disposer Of every good thy praise what man yet born Has sung? or who that may be born shall sing? Again, and often hail! indulge our prayer, Great father! grant us virtue, grant us wealth: For without virtue, wealth to man avails not; And virtue without wealth exerts less power, And less diffuses good. Then grant us, gracious, Virtue and wealth; for both are of thy gift.

THE SECOND HYMN OF CALLIMACHUS.

TO APOLLO.

HAH! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,
And all the cavern shakes! far off, far off,
The man that is unhallow'd: for the god,
The god approaches. Hark! he knocks; the gates

Feel the glad impulse: and the sever'd bars
Submissive clink against their brazen portals.
Why do the Delian palms incline their boughs,
Self-mov'd: and hovering swans, their throats re-
leas'd,

From native silence, carol sounds harmonious?
Begin, young men, the hymn: let all your harps
Break their inglorious silence; and the dance,
In mystic numbers trod, explain the music.
But first by ardent prayer, and clear lustration,
Purge the contagious spots of human weakness:
Impure no mortal can behold Apollo.
So may ye flourish, favour'd by the god,
In youth with happy nuptials, and in age
With silver hairs, and fair descent of children;
So lay foundations for aspiring cities,
And bless your spreading colonies' increase.
Pay sacred reverence to Apollo's song;

Lest wrathful the far-shooting god emit

His fatal arrows.

Silent Nature stands

And seas subside, obedient to the sound

Of lö, lö Pean! nor dares Thetis

Longer bewail her lov'd Achilles' death;

;

For Phoebus was his foe. Nor must sad Niobe In fruitless sorrow persevere, or weep

E'en through the Phrygian marble. Hapless mother!

Whose fondness could compare her mortal offspring To those which fair Latona bore to Jove.

Iö! again repeat ye, lö Pean!

Against the deity 'tis hard to strive.
He that resists the power of Ptolemy,

Resists the power of heaven, for power from heaven
Derives; and monarchs rule by gods appointed.
Recite Apollo's praise, till night draws on,
The ditty still unfinish'd; and the day
Unequal to the godhead's attributes
Various, and matter copious of your songs.
Sublime at Jove's right hand Apollo sits,
And thence distributes honour, gracious king,
And theme of verse perpetual. From his robe
Flows light ineffable: his harp, his quiver,
And Lictian bow are gold: with golden sandals
His feet are shod; how rich! how beautiful!
Beneath his steps the yellow mineral rises;
And earth reveals her treasures. Youth and beauty
Eternal deck his cheek; from his fair head
Perfumes distil their sweets; and cheerful health,
His dutious handmaid, through the air improv'd,
With lavish hand diffuses scents ambrosial.

The spear-man's arm by thee, great God, directed,
Sends forth a certain wound. The laurel'd bard,
Inspir'd by thee, composes verse immortal.
Taught by thy art divine, the sage physician
Eludes the urn; and chains, or exiles death.

Thee, Nomian, we adore; for that from Heaven Descending, thou on fair Amphrysus' banks Didst guard Admetus's herds. Sithence the cow Produc'd an ampler store of milk; the she-goat Not without pain dragg'd her distended udder;

Carnean let me call thee! for my country
Calls thee Carnean! the fair colony

Thrice by thy gracious guidance was transported,
Ere settled in Cyrene; there w' appointed
Thy annual feasts, kind god, and bless thy altars
Smoking with hecatombs of slaughter'd bulls ;
As Carnus, thy high-priest and favour'd friend,
Had erst ordain'd; and with mysterious rites,
Our great forefathers taught their sons to worship.
lö Carnean Phoebus! Iö Pean!

The yellow crocus there, and fair narcissus
Reserve the honours of their winter-store,
To deck thy temple; till returning spring
Diffuses nature's various pride; and flowers
Innumerable, by the soft south-west

Open'd, and gather'd by religious hands,
Rebound their sweets from th' odoriferous pavement.
Perpetual fires shine hallow'd on thy altars,
When annual the Carnean feast is held:
The warlike Libyans, clad in armour, lead

The dance! with clanging swords and shields they beat

The dreadful measure: in the chorus join
Their women, brown but beautiful: such rites
To thee well pleasing. Nor had yet thy votaries,
From Greece transplanted, touch'd Cyrene's banks,
And lands determin'd for their last abodes;
But wander'd through Azilis' horrid forest
Dispers'd; when from Myrtusa's craggy brow,
Fond of the maid, auspicious to the city,