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TRANSLATIONS FROM THEOCRITUS

AMARYLLIS:

Ah, why am I from empty joys debarrd?

For kisses are but empty when compard.
OR,

I rave, and in my raging ôt shall tear
THE THIRD IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS, The garland, which I wove for you to wear,

Of parsly, with a wreath of ivy bound,
PARAPHRASED.

And border'd with a rosy edging round.

What pangs I feel, unpity'd and unheard! To Amaryllis Love compels my way, Since I must die, why is my fate deferr'd!

My browzing goats upon the mountains stray: I strip my body of my shepherd's frock: O Tityrus, tend them well, and see them fed Behold that dreadful downfall of a rock, In pastures fresh, and to their watering led; Where yon old fisher views the waves from high? And 'ware the ridgling with his budding head. 'Tis that convenient leap I mean to try. Ah, beauteous nymph! can you forget your love, You would be pleas'd to see me plunge to sbore, The conscious grottos, and the shady grove; But better pleas'd if I should rise no more. Where stretch'd at ease your tender limbs were laid, I might have read my fortune long ago, Your nameless beauties nakedly display'd ? When, seeking my success in love to know, Then I was call'd your darling, your desire, I try'd th' infallible prophetic way, With kisses such as set my soul on fire:

A poppy-leaf upon my palm to lay: But you are chang'd, yet I am still the same; I struck, and yet no lucky crack did follow; My heart maintains for both a double flame; Yet I struck hard, and yet the leaf lay hollow : Griev'd, but unmov'd, and patient of your scorn: And which was worse, if any worse could prove, So faithful I, and you so much forsworn!

The withering leaf foreshow'd your withering love. I die, and death will finish all my pain;

Yet farther (ah, how far a lover dares!)
Yet, ere I die, behold me once again :

My last recourse I had to sieve and sheers;
Am I so much deform'd, so chang'd of late? And told the witch Agreo my disease :
What partial judges are our love and hate! Agreo, that in barvest us'd to lease :
Ten wildings have I gather'd for my dear;

But harvest done, to chare-work did aspire ;
How ruddy, like your lips, their streaks appear! Meat, drink, and two-pence, was her daily hire.
Far off you view'd them with a longing eye To work she went, her charms she mutter'd o'er,
Upon the topmost branch (the tree was high): And yet the resty sieve wagg'd ne'er the more;
Yet nimbly up, from bough to bough I swerv'd, I wept for woe, the testy beldame swore,
And for to-morrow have ten more reserv'd. And, foaming with her god, foretold my fate;
Look on me kindly, and some pity show,

That I was doom'd to love, and you to hate. Or give me leave at least to look on you.

A milk-white goat for you I did provide ; Some god transforni me by his heavenly power Two milk-white kids ran frisking by my side, Ev'n to a bee to buzz withiu your bower,

For which the nut-brown lass, Erithasis, The winding ivy-chaplet to invade,

Full often offer'd many a savoury kiss, And folded fern that your fair forehead shade. Hers they shall be, since you refuse the price: Now to my cost the force of Love I find;

What madman would o'erstand his market twice! The heavy hand it bears on human-kind.

My right eye itches, some good luck is Bear, The milk of tigers was his infant food,

Perhaps my Amaryllis may appear; Taught from his tender years the taste of blood; I'll set up such a note as she shall hear. His brother whelps and he ran wild about the What nymph but my melodious voice would more! wood.

She must be flint, if she refuse my love. Ah, nymph, train'd up in his tyrannic court, Hippomenes, who ran with noble strife To make the sufferings of your slaves your sport! To win his lady, or to lose his life, Unheeded ruin! treacheous delight!

(What shift some men will make to get a wife!) O polish'd hardness softend to the sight!

Threw down a golden apple in her way; Whose radiant eyes your ebon brows adorn, For all her haste she could not choose but stay: Like midnight those, and these like break of morn! Renown said, “ Run;" the glittering bribe cry'd, Smile once again, revive me with your charms;

“ Hold ;" And let me die contented in your arms.

The man might have been hang'd, but for his gold. I would not ask to live another day,

Yet some suppose 'twas Love (some few indeed)* Might I but sweetly kiss my soul away.

That stopt the fatal fury of her speed :

OF

She saw, she sigh'd; her nimble feet refuse Betwixt two sheets thou shalt enjoy her bare, Their wonted speed, and she took pains to lose. With whom no Grecian virgin can compare; A prophet some, and some a poet cry,

So soft, so sweet, so balıny, and so fair. (No matter which, so peither of them lie)

A boy, like thee, would make a kingly line:
From steepy Othrys' top to Pylus drove

But oh, a girl like her must be divine.
His herd; and for his pains enjoy'd his love: Her equals, we, in years, but not in face,
If such another wager should be laid,

Twelvescore viragoes of the Spartan race,
I'll find the man, if you can find the maid.

While naked to Eurota's banks we bend,
Why name I men, when Love extended finds And there in manly exercise contend,
His power on high, and in celestial minds; When she appears, are all eclips'd and lost,
Venus the shepherd's homely habit took,

And hide the beauties that we made our boast.
And manag'd something else besides the crook; So, when the night and winter disappear,
Nay, when Adonis died, was heard to roar, The purple morning, rising with the year,
And never frum her heart forgave the boar. Salutes the spring, as her celestial eyes
How blest was fair Endymion with his Moon, Adorn the world, and brighten all the skies:
Who sleeps on Latmos' top from night to noon! So beauteous Helen shines among the rest,
What Jason from Medea's love possest,

Tail, slender, straight, with all the graces blest. You shall not hear, but know 'tis like the rest. As pines the mountains, or as fields the corn, My aking head can scarce support the pain; Or as Thessalian steeds the race adorn; This cursed love will surely turn my brain : So rosy-colour'd Helen is the pride Peel bow it shoots, and yet you take no pity ;

Of Lacedæmon, and of Greece beside. Nay then 'tis time to end my doleful ditty.

Like her no nymph can willing osiers bend A clammy sweat does o'er my temples creep;

In basket-works, which painted streaks commend: My heary eyes are urg'd with iron sleep: With Pallas in the loom she may contend. I lay me down to gasp my latest breath,

But none, ah! none can animate the lyre, The wolves will get a breakfast by my death; And the mute strings with vocal souls inspire; Yet scarce enough their hunger to supply,

Whether the learn'd Minerva be her theme,
For Love bas made me carrion ere I die.

Or chaste Diana bathing in the stream:
None can record their heavenly praise so well
As Helen, in whose eyes ten thousand Cupids

dwell,
THE EPITHALAMIUM

O fair, O graceful! yet with maids enrolld,
But whom to-inorrow's Sun a matron shall be-

hold! HELEN AND MENEL AUS.

Yet ere to-morrow's Sun shall show his head,

The dewy paths of meadows we will tread, FROM THE EIGHTEENTH IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS.

For crowns and chaplets to adorn thy head. TWELVE Spartan virgins, noble, young, and fair, Where all shall weep and wish for thy return, With violet wreaths adorn'd their flowing hair; As bleating lambs their absent mother mourn. And to the pompous palace did resort,

Our noblest maids shall to thy name bequeath Where Menelaus kept his royal court.

The boughs of lotos, form'd into a wreath. There hand in hand a comely choir they led ; This monument, thy inaiden beauty's (lue, To sing a blessing to his nuptial bed, (bespread. High on a plane-tree shall be hung to view: With curious needles wrought, and painted flowers On the smooth rind the passenger shall see Jove's beauteous daughter now his bride must be, Thy name engravid, and worship Helen's tree: And Jove himself was less a god than he:

Balm, from a silver-box distill’d around, For this their artful hands instruct the lute to Shall all bedew the roots, and scent the sacred sound,

[ground.

ground. Their feet assist their hands, and justly beat the The balm, 'tis true, can aged plants prolong, This was their song: “ Why, happy bridegroom, But Helen's name will keep it ever young. Ere yet the stars are kindled in the sky, (why, Hail bride, hail bridegroom, son-in-law to Jove! Ere twilight shades, or evening dews are shed, With fruitful joys Latona bless your love; Why dost thou steal so soon away to bed? Let Venus furnish you with full desires, Has Somnus brush'd thy eye-lids with his rod, Add vigour to your wills, and fuel to your fires : Or do thy legs refuse to bear their load,

Almighty Jove augment your wealthy store, With flowing bowls of a more generous god ? Give much to you, and to his grandsons more. If gentle slumber on thy temples creep,

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From generous loins a generous race will spring, (Buit, naughty man, thou dost not mean to sleep) Each girl, like her, a queen; each boy, like you, Betake thee to thy bed, thou drowsy drone,

a king. Sleep by thyself, and leave thy bride alone: Now sleep, if sleep you can; but while you rest, Go, leave her with her maiden mates to play, Sleep close, with folded arms, and breast to At sports more harmless till the break of day :

breast: Give us this evening; thou hast morn and night, Rise in the morn; but oh! before you rise, And all the year before thee, for delight.

Forget not to perform your morning sacrifice. O happy youth! to thee, among the crowd, We will be with you ere the crowing cock Of rival princes, Cupid sneez'd aloud;

Salutes the light, and struts before his feather'd And every lucky omen sent before,

flock. To meet thee landing on the Spartan shore. Hymen, oh Hymen, to thy triumphs run, Of all our heroes thou canst boast alone,

And view the mighty spoils thou hast in battle That Jove, wbene'er he thunders, calls thee son:

won."

THEOCRITUS.

THE DESPAIRING LOVER. The rose is fragrant, but it fades in time;
FROM THE TWENTY-THIRD IDYLLIUM OF

The riolet sweet, but quickly past the prime;
White lilies hang their heads, and soon decay,

And whiter snow in minutes melts away:
WITH inauspicious love, a wretched swain Such is your blooming youth, and withering so:
Pursued the fairest nymph of all the plain;

The time will come, it will, when you shall knos Fairest indeed, but prouder far than fair,

The rage of love; your haughty heart shall burn She plung'd him hopeless in a deep despair:

In flames like mine, and meet a like retura. Her heavenly form too haughtily she priz'd,

Obdurate as you are, oh! hear at least His person hated, and his gifts despiad;

My dying prayers, and grant my last request. Nor knew the force of Cupid's cruel darts,

When first you ope your doors, and, passing by, Nor feard his awful power on human hearts;

The sad ill-omen'd object meets your eye, But either from her hopeless lover fled,

Think it not lost, a moment if you stay; Or with disdainful glances shot bim dead.

The breathiess wretch, su made by you, survey: No kiss, no look, to cheer the drooping boy;

Some cruel pleasure will from thence arise, No word she spoke, she scorn'd ev'n to deny.

To view the mighty ravage of your eyes.
But, as a bunted panther casts about [scout,

I wish (but oh! my wish is vain, I fear)
Her glaring eyes and pricks her listening ears to The kind oblation of a falling tear :
So she, to shun bis toils, her cares employ'd,

Then loose the knot, and take me from the place,
And fiercely in her savage freedom joyd. [frown, And spread your mantle o'er my grizly face;
Her mouth she writh'd, her forehead taught to Upon my livid lips bestow a kiss:
Her eyes to sparkle fires to love unknown : O envy not the dead; they feel not bliss !
Her sallow cheeks her envious mind did shew, Nor fear your kisses can restore my breath;
And every feature spoke aloud the curstness of a Ev'n you are not more pityless than Death.
Yet could not he his obvious fate escape: (shrew. Then for my corpse a homely grave provide,
His love still dress'd her in a pleasing shape;

Which love and me from public scorn may hide. And every sullen frown, and bitter scorn,

Thrice call upon my name, thrice beat your But fann'd the fuel that too fast did burn.

breast, Long time, unequal to his mighty pain,

And hail me thrice to everlasting rest: He strove to curb it, but he strove in vain :

Last let my tomb this sad inscription bear: At last his woes broke out, and begg'd relief

“A wretch whom love has kill'd lies buried here; With tears, the dumb petitioners of grief: O passengers, Aminta's eyes beware.” With tears so tender as adorn'd his love,

Thus having said, and furious with his love, And any heart, but only bers, would move. He heav'd with more than human force to more Trembling before ber bolted doors he stood, A weighty stone (the labour of a team) And there pour'd out th’unprofitable flood;

And rais'd from thence he reach'd the neighbouring Staring his eyes, and haggard was his louk;

beam: Then, kissing tirst the threshold, thus be spoke :

Around its bulk a sliding knot he throws, “Ah nymph, more cruel than of human race! And fitted to his neck the fatal noose: Thy tigress beart belies thy angel face:

Then spurning backward took a swing, till Death Too well thou show dst thy pedigree from stone: Crept up, and stopt the passage of his breath. Thy granddame's was the first by Pyrrha thrown: The bounce burst ope the door; the scornful fair Unworthy thou to be so long desir'd;

Relentless look’d, and saw him beat his quivering But so my love, and so my fate requir'd.

feet in air; I beg pot now (for 'tis in vain) to live;

Nor wept his fate, nor cast a pitying eye, But take this gift, the last that I can give. Nor took bim down, but brush'd regardless by: This friendly cord shall soon decide the strife And, as she past, her chance or fate was such, Betwixt my lingering love and loathsome life: Her garments touch'd the dead, polluted by the This moment puts an end to all my pain;

touch: I shall no more de-pair, nor thou disdain. Next to the dance, thence to the bath did move; Farewell, ungrateful and unkind! I go

The bath was sacred to the god of love; Condemn'd by thee to those sad shades below. Whose injur'd image, with a wrathtul eye, I go th' extremest remedy to prore,

Stood threatening from a pedestal on high: To drink oblivion, and to drench my lore: Nodding a while, and watchful of his blow, There happily to lose my long desires :

He fell; and falling crush'd th' uugrateful nymph But ah! what draught so deep to quench my fires ? below: Farewell, ye never-opening gates, ye stones, Her gushing blood the parement all besmeard; And threshold guilty of my midnight moans. And this her last expiring voice was heard; What I have sufferid here, ye know too well; “ Lorers farewell, rerenge bas reach'd mr scom; What I shall do, the gods and I can tell. Thus warn'd, be wise, and love for love return."

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mish'd eyes:

DE
ELIGHT of human-kinds, and gods above, Sucks in with open lips thy balmy breath,

Parent of Rome, propitious queen of love, By turns restord to life, and plung'd in pleasing Whose vital power, air, earth, and sea supplies;

death. And breeds whate'er is born beueath the rolling There while thy curling limbs about him move, skies:

Involv'd and fetter'd in the links of love, For every kind, by thy prolific might,

When, wishing all, he nothing can deny, Springs, and beholds the regions of the light. Thy charms in that auspicious moment try; Thee, goddess, thee the clouds and tempests fear: With winning eloquence our peace implore, And at thy pleasing presence disappear:

And quiet to the weary world restore.
For thee the land in fragrant flowers is drest;
For thee the Ocean smiles, and smooths her wavy
breast;

[is blest, And Heaven itself with more serene and purer light For when the rising spring adorns the mead,

THE BEGINNING OF THE SECOND BOOK OF And a new scene of Nature stands display'd,

LUCRETIUS.
When teeming buds and cheerful greens appear,
And western gales unlock the lazy year;
The joyous birds thy welcome first express,

'T19 pleasant, safely to behold from shore, Whose native songs thy genial fire confess, The rolling ship, and hear the tempest roar: Then savage beasts bound o'er their slighted food,

Not that another's pain is our delight;
Struck with thy darts, and tempt the raging flood. But pains unfelt produce the pleasing sight.
All nature is thy gift; earth, air, and sea : 'Tis pleasant also to behold from far
Of all that breathes, the various progeny,

The moving legions mingled in the war:
Stang with delight, is goaded on by thee.

But much more sweet thy labouring steps to guide O'er barren mountains, o'er the flowery plain,

'To virtue's heights, with wisdom well supply'd, The leafy forest, and the liquid main,

And all the magazines of learning fortify'd: Extends thy uncontrol'd and boundless reign. From thence to look below on human-kind, Through all the living regions dost thou move,

Bewilder'd in the maze of life, and blind: And scatter'st, where thou go'st, the kindly seeds To see vain fools ambitiously contend of love.

For wit and power; their last endeavours bend Since then the race of every living thing

T'outshine each other, waste their time and health Obeys thy power; since nothing new can spring In search of honour, and pursuit of wealth. Without thy warmth, without thy influence bear,

O wretched man! in what a mist of life, Or beautiful, or lovesome can appear;

Enclos’d with dangers and with noisy strife, Be thou my aid, my tuneful song inspire,

He spends his little span; and overfeeds And kindle with thy own productive fire;

His cramm'd desires, with more than Nature needs! While all thy province, Nature, I survey,

For Nature wisely stints our appetite, And sing to Memmius an immortal lay

And craves no more than undisturb'd delight: Of Heaven and Earth, and every where thy won Which minds, unmix'd with cares and fears obdrous power display:

A soul serene, a budy void of pain. (tain; To Memmius under thy sweet influence born, So little this corporeal frame requires; Whom thou with all thy gifts and graces dost adorn.

So bounded are our natural desires, The rather then assist my Muse and me,

That, wanting all, and setting pain aside, Infusing verses worthy him and thee. [cease, With bare privation sense is satisfy'd. Meantime on land and sea let barbarous discord if golden sconces hang not on the walls, And lull the listening world in universal peace. To light the costly surpers and the balls; To thee mankind their soft repose must owe; If the proud palace shines not with the state For thou alone that blessing canst bestow; Of burnish'd bowls, and of redected plate;

If well-tup'd harps, nor the more pleasing sound These bugbears of the mind, this inward hell,
Of voices, from the vaulted roofs rebound; Na rays of outward sunshine can dispel;
Yet on the grass, beneath a poplar sladde,

But Nature and right Reason must display
By the cool stream, our careless limbs are lay'd; Their beams abroad, and bring the darksome soul
With cheaper pleasures innocently blest,

to day.
When the warm spring with gaudy flowers is drest.
Nor will the raging fever's fire abate,
With golden canopies and beds of state :
But the poor patient will as soon be found

FROM THE FIFTH BOOK OT
On the hard mattress, or the mother ground.
Then since our bodies are not eas'd the more

LUCRETIUS.
By birth, or power, or Fortune's wealthy store,

Tum porrò puer, &c. 'Tis plain, these useless toys of every kind As little can relieve the labouring mind :

Thus, like a sailor, by a tempest hurl'd Unless we could suppose the dreadful sight Ashore, the babe is shipwreck'd on the world : Of marshal'd legious moving to the fight

Naked he lies, and ready to expire; Could, with their sound and terrible array, Helpless of all that human wants require; Expel our fears, and drive the thoughts of death | Expos'd upon unhospitable earth, But, since the supposition vain appears, [away. From the first moment of his hapless birth. Since clinging cares, and trains of inbred fears, Straight with foreboding cries he fills the rooms Are not with sounds to be affrighted thence, Too true presages of his future doom. But in the midst of pomp pursue the prince,

But flocks and herds, and every savage beast, Not aw'd by arms, but in the presence bold, By more indulgent Nature are increas'd. Without respect to purple, or to gold;

They want no rattles for their froward mood, Why should not we these pageantries despise, Nor nurse to reconcile them to their food, Whose worth but in our want of reason lies ? With broken words; nor winter blasts they fear, For life is all in wandering errours led;

Nor change their habits with the changing year: And just as children are surpris'd with dread, Nor, for their safety, citadels prepare, And tremble in the dark, so riper years

Nor forge the wicked instruments of war: Ev'n in broad day-light are possess'd with fears; Unlabour'd Earth her bounteous treasure grants, And shake at shadows fanciful and vain,

And Nature's lavish hand supplies their common As those which in the breasts of children reign.

wants.

TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE.

THE THIRD ODE

As thou, to whom the Muse commends,

The best of poets and of friends,
OF THE FIRST BOOK 0?

Dost thy committed pled e restore;

And land bim safely on the shore ;
HORACE.

And save the better part of me,

From perishing with him at sea. Inscribed to the earl of Roscommon, on his in- Sure he, who first the passage try'd, tended voyage to Ireland.

In harden'd oak his heart did hide,

And rib: of iron arm'd his side ; So may th’ auspicious queen of love,

Or his at least, in hollow wood And the twin stars, the seed of Jove,

Who tempted first the briny flood: And he who rules the raging wind,

Nor fear'd the winds contending roar, To thee, O sacred Ship, be kind;

Nor billows beatin, on the shore; And gentle breezes fill thy sails,

Nor Hyades p rtending rains Supplying soft Etesian gales :

Nor all the tyrants of the main

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