Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Fame is no plant that grows on mortal foil,
Nor in the glift'ring foil

Set off to th' world, nor in broad rumor lies, 80
But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes,
And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
As he pronounces laftly on each deed,

Of so much fame in Heav'n expect thy meed.

O fountain Arethufe, and thou honor'd flood, 85 Smooth-fliding Mincius, crown'd with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood:

But now my oat proceeds,

And liftens to the herald of the sea

That came in Neptune's plea ;

90

He afk'd the waves, and ask'd the fellon winds,
What hard mishap had doom'd this gentle swain?
And question'd every guft of rugged wings,
That blows from off each beaked promontory;
They knew not of his story,

And fage Hippotades their answer brings,
That not a blast was from his dungeon stray'd,
The air was calm, and on the level brine
Sleek Panope with all her fifters play'd.
It was that fatal and perfidious bark
Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark,
That funk fo low that facred head of thine.

95

100

Next Camus, reverend fire, went footing flow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 105

[blocks in formation]

Like to that fanguin flow'r inscrib'd with woe.

Ah! Who hath reft (quoth he) my deareft pledge? Laft came, and last did go,

The pilot of the Galilean lake,

Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, (The golden opes, the iron fhuts amain)

110

He shook his miter'd locks, and ftern befpake, How well could I have spar'd for thee young fwain, Enow of fuch as for their bellies fake

Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold? 115 Of other care they little reck'ning make,

(hold

121

Than how to fcramble at the fhearers feast,
And shove away the worthy bidden guest;
Blind mouths! that fcarce themselves know how to
A sheep-hook, or have learn'd ought else the least
That to the faithful herdman's art belongs!
What recks it them? What need they? They are sped;
And when they lift, their lean and flashy songs,
Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched ftraw;
The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed;
But fwoln 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
Stands ready to fmite once, and smite no more.
Return Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
That shrunk thy ftreams; return Sicilian Muse,

125

130

And

135

And call the vales, and bid them hither caft
Their bells, and flourets of a thousand hues.
Ye Valleys low, where the mild whispers use
Of shades, and wanton winds, and gufhing brooks,
On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks,
Throw hither all your quaint enamel'd eyes,
That on the green turf fuck the honied fhowers, 140
And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
The tufted crow-toe, and pale jeffamine,
The white pink, and the panfy freakt with jet,
The glowing violet,

The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine,
With cowflips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flow'r that fad embroidery wears :
Bid amarantus all his beauty shed,
And daffadillies fill their cups with tears,
To ftrow the laureat herse where Lycid lies.
For so to interpose a little ease,

145

150

Let our frail thoughts dally with falfe furmise.
Ay me! Whilft thee the fhores, and founding seas
Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurl'd, 155
Whether beyond the flormy Hebrides,
Where thou perhaps under the whelming tide
Vifit'ft the bottom of the monftrous world;
Or whether thou to our moift vows deny'd,
Sleep'ft by the fable of Bellerus old,

160

Where the great vifion of the guarded mount

Looks

Looks tow'ard Namancos and Bayona's hold; Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth: And, O ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

166

171

Weep no more, woeful Shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your forrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watry floor; So finks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: So Lycidas funk low, but mounted high, Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves, Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpreffive nuptial fong, In the bleft kingdoms meek of joy and love. There entertain him all the Saints above, In folemn troops, and fweet focieties,

175

That fing, and finging in their glory move, 180
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Now, Lycidas, the fhepherds weep no more;
Henceforth thou art the genius of the fhore,
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
To all that wander in that perilous flood.

185

Thus fang the uncouth fwain to th' oaks and rills, While the still morn went out with fandals gray, He touch'd the tender ftops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay :

And

And now the fun had stretch'd out all the hills, 190
And now was dropt into the western bay;

At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue:
To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.

XVIII.

The Fifth ODE of Horace, Lib. I. Quis multa gracilis te puer in rofa, rendred almost word for word without rime, according to the Latin meafure, as near as the language will permit.

HAT flender youth bedew'd with liquid odors

WHAT

Courts thee on roses in fome pleasant cave,

Pyrrah? for whom bind'ft thou

In wreaths thy golden hair,

Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he

On faith and changed Gods complain, and feas Rough with black winds and ftorms

Unwonted shall admire!

Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold,

Who always vacant always amiable

Hopes thee, of flattering gales

Unmindful. Hapless they

5

10

Towhom thou untry'd seem'ft fair. Me in my vow'd

Picture the facred wall declares t' have hung

My dank and dropping weeds

To the ftern God of fea.

15

Ad

« AnteriorContinuar »