PRAISE Vulcan, now Muse; whom Fame gives the prize

For depth and facture of all forge-devise; Who, with the sky-eyed Pallas, first did give

Men rules of buildings, that before did live

In caves and dens, and hills, like savage beasts;

Of all these Powers that are with Deity blest.

That far-off doth his dreadful voice diffuse, And, being King of all, doth all conduce To all their ends. Who (shut from all Gods else

ends (the year),

tells)

Given his fair grought, far from his father's view,

In caves from whence eternal odours flew.
And in high number of the Deities placed;
Yet when the many-hymn-given God had
past

His Nurses' cares, in ivies and in bays
All over thicketed, his varied ways
To sylvan coverts evermore he took
With all his Nurses; whose shrill voices
shook

Thickets, in which could no foot's entry fall;

And he himself made captain of them all. And so, O grape-abounding Bacchus, be

Ever saluted by my Muse and me.

Give us to spend with spirit our hours out here;

And every hour extend to many a year.

Her birth gave way to, that abroad she flew,

And stood, in gold arm'd, in her Father's view,

Shaking her sharp lance. All Olympus shook

So terribly beneath her, that it took
Up in amazes all the Deities there.

All earth resounded with vociferous fear.
The sea was put up, all in purple waves,
And settled suddenly her rudest raves.
Hyperion's radiant son his swift-hooved
steeds

A mighty time stay'd, till her arming weeds,

As glorious as the Gods', the blue-eyed Maid

Took from her deathless shoulders; but then stay'd

All these distempers; and heaven's counsellor, Jove,

Rejoiced that all things else his stay could

move.

So I salute thee still; and still in praise Thy fame, and others', shall my memory raise.

TO VESTA AND MERCURY.

VESTA I sing, who, in bequest of fate,
Art sorted out an everlasting state
In all th' Immortals' high-built roofs, and
all

Those of earth-dwelling men, as general And ancient honours given thee for thy gift

Of free-lived chastity, and precious thrift. Nor can there amongst mortals banquets be,

In which, both first and last, they give not thee

Their endless gratitudes in pour'd-out wine,
As gracious sacrifice to thy divine
And useful virtues; being invoked by all,
Before the least taste of their festival
In wine or food affect their appetites.
And thou, that of th' adorn'd with all
delights

Art the most useful angel; born a God
Of Jove and Maia; of heaven's golden rod
The sole sustainer; and hast power to
bless

With all good all men, great Argicides,
Inhabit all good houses; seeing no wants
Of mutual minds' love in th' inhabitants.
Join in kind blessing with the bashful
maid

And all-loved virgin, Vesta; either's aid
Combined in every hospitable house :
Both being best seen in all the gracious
House-works of mortals. Jointly follow
then,

Even from their youths, the minds of dames and men.

Hail then, old Daughter of the oldest God

And thou great bearer of Heaven's golden rod!

Yet, not to you alone my vows belong; Others as well claim th' homage of my song.

Wing'd expeditions; of thy bounties eat; Fair children, and fair fruits, thy labour's sweat ;

O great in reverence; and referr'd to thee
For life and death is all the pedigree
Of mortal humans. Happy then is he
Whom the innate propensions of thy mind
Stand bent to honour. He shall all things
find

In all abundance; all his pastures yield
Herds in all plenties; all his roofs are fill'd
With rich possessions: he, in all the sway
Of laws best order'd, cuts out his own way
In cities shining with delicious dames;
And takes his choice of all those striving
flames.

High happiness and riches, like his train, Follow his fortunes, with delights that reign

In all their princes. Glory invests his

sons;

His daughters, with their crown'd selections

Of all the city, frolic through the meads; And every one her call'd-for dances treads Along the soft-flower of the clover-grass. All this, with all those, ever comes to pass, That thy love blesses, Goddess full of grace,

And treasurous Angel t' all the human

race.

Hail, then, Great Mother of the Deified kind,

Wife to the cope of stars! sustain a mind

Propitious to me, for my praise; and give

(Answering my mind) my vows fit means to live.

TO THE SUN.

THE radiant Sun's divine renown diffuse
(Jove's daughter, great Calliope, my Muse),
Whom ox-eyed Euryphaëssa gave birth
To the bright seed of starry Heaven and
Earth.

For the far-famed Hyperion took to wife
His sister Euryphaëssa, that life

Of his high race gave to these lovely three:

Aurora, with the rosy wrists, and she That owns th' enamouring tresses (the bright Moon)

Together with the never-wearied Sun. Who (his horse mounting) gives both mortals light

And all th' Immortals. Even to horror, bright

A blaze burns from his golden burgonet
Which to behold exceeds the sharpest set
Of any eyes' intention; beams so clear
It all ways pours abroad. The glorious
cheer

Of his far-shining face up to his crown Casts circular radiance; that comes streaming down

About his temples, his bright cheeks, and all
Retaining the refulgence of their fall.
About his bosom flows so fine a weed
As doth the thinness of the wind exceed
In rich context: beneath whose deep folds
fly

His masculine horses round about the sky;
Till in this hemisphere he renders stay
T' his gold-yoked coach and coursers; and
his way,

Let down by heaven, the heavenly coachman makes

Down to the ocean, where his rest he takes.
My salutations then, fair King, receive,
And, in propitious returns relieve
My life with mind-fit means; and then
from thee,

And all the race of complete Deity,
My song shall celebrate those half-God
states,

That yet sad death's condition circulates. And whose brave acts the Gods show men, that they

As brave may aim at, since they can but die.

TO THE MOON.

THE MOON, now, Muses, teach me to resound,

Whose wide wings measure such a world of ground.

Jove's daughter, deck'd with the mellifluous tongue,

And seen in all the sacred art of song. Whose deathless brows when she from heaven displays,

All earth she wraps up in her orient rays. A heaven of ornament in earth is raised When her beams rise. The subtle air is saised

Of delicate splendour from her crown of gold;

And when her silver bosom is extoll'd, Wash'd in the ocean, in day's equall'd

noon

Is midnight seated; but when she puts on Her far-off - sprinkling - lustre - evening weeds,

(The month in two cut; her high-breasted steeds

TO CASTOR AND POLLUX.

JOVE's fair Sons, father'd by th' Oebalian king,

Muses well-worth-all men's beholdings, sing:

The dear birth, that bright-ankled Leda bore;

Horse-taming Castor; and, the conqueror Of tooth-tongued Momus, Pollux; whom beneath

Steep-brow'd Taygetus she gave half-god breath,

In love mix'd with the black-clouds' King of heaven :

Who, both of men and ships (being tempest driven,

When Winter's wrathful empire is in force Upon th' implacable seas), preserve the

course.