« PreviousContinue »
The pilot of the Galilean lake,
125 But swoll'n with wind, and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw Daily devours apace; and nothing said, But that two-handed engin at the door,
130 Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.
Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past, That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither caft Their bells, and flowrets of a thousand hues.
135 Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of Thades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks,
Throw hither all your quaint enamel'd eyes,
155 Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world; Or whether thou, to our moist vows deny’d, Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old,
160 Where the great vision of the guarded mount Looks tow’ard Namancos and Bayona's hold; Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth : And, ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth.
Weep no'more, woful Shepherds, weep no more, 165 For Lycidas your forrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; So finks the day-star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
locks he laves, 175
Thus sang the uncouth swain to th' oaks and rills, While the still morn went out with fandals gray, He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills, 190 And now was dropt into the western bay;
At lait he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue : - To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
The Fifth Ode * of HORACE, Lib. I.
Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa," Rendered almoft word for word without rhyme, ac
cording to the Latin measure, as near as the language will permit.
HAT slender youth bedew'd with liquid odors
Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,
In wreaths thy-golden hair,
S On faith and changed Gods complain, and seas
Rough with black winds and storms
Unwonted shall admire!
Hopes thee, of flattering gales
Unmindful? Hapless they To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my yow'd Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung My dank and dropping weeds
15 To the stern God of sea.
* First added in the edition of 1673.
Ad PYRRH A M.
Horatius ex Pyrrhæ illecebris tanquam è naufragio
enataverat, cujus amore irretitos, affirmat effe mia seros.
UIS multa gracilis te puer in rosa
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus,
Cui flavam religas comam
Nigris æquora ventis
Emirabitur infolens !
Sperat, nescius auræ
Fallacis ? Miseri quibus