Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
109
Beautiful.
Lo!
Philomela enters richly gay;
But brighter far in Beauty than Array.
Charming, as Fame or Fiction can relate
The Dryads, walking thro' the Woods in State:
Fancy like her the Naïds would express,
Allowing them her Elegance of Dress.—
But brighter far in Beauty than Array.
Charming, as Fame or Fiction can relate
The Dryads, walking thro' the Woods in State:
Fancy like her the Naïds would express,
Allowing them her Elegance of Dress.—
Mean time the
Virgin flies, or seems to fly,
Swift as a Scythian Arrow cleaves the Sky:
Still more and more, the Youth her Charms admires:
The Race itself t' exalt her Charms conspires.
The golden Pinions, which her Feet adorn,
In wanton Flutt'rings by the Winds are born.
Down from her Head, the long, fair Tresses flow,
And sport with lovely Negligence below.
The waving Ribbons, which her Buskins tye,
Her snowy Skin with waving Purple dye:
As crimson Veils, in Palaces display'd,
To the white Marble lend a blushing Shade.—
Swift as a Scythian Arrow cleaves the Sky:
Still more and more, the Youth her Charms admires:
The Race itself t' exalt her Charms conspires.
The golden Pinions, which her Feet adorn,
In wanton Flutt'rings by the Winds are born.
Down from her Head, the long, fair Tresses flow,
And sport with lovely Negligence below.
The waving Ribbons, which her Buskins tye,
Her snowy Skin with waving Purple dye:
As crimson Veils, in Palaces display'd,
To the white Marble lend a blushing Shade.—
Æneas, now, adorn'd with ev'ry Grace,
Shone forth, in Shape and Features like a God:
For Venus with the rosy Bloom of Youth
Had flush'd her Son, with comely Locks adorn'd,
And breath'd a sparkling Lustre on his Eyes.
Such is the Beauty which the Artists Hand
To polish'd Iv'ry lends: So Silver shines,
Or Parian Stone, enchas'd in yellow Gold.—
Shone forth, in Shape and Features like a God:
For Venus with the rosy Bloom of Youth
Had flush'd her Son, with comely Locks adorn'd,
And breath'd a sparkling Lustre on his Eyes.
Such is the Beauty which the Artists Hand
To polish'd Iv'ry lends: So Silver shines,
Or Parian Stone, enchas'd in yellow Gold.—
But far above the Rest in Beauty shines
The great Æneas, when the Troop he joins:
Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the Frost
Of wintry Xanthus, and the Lycian Coast:
When to his native Delos he resorts,
Ordains the Dances, and renews the Sports:
Green Wreaths of Bays his Length of Hair inclose:
A Golden Fillet binds his aweful Brows:
His Quiver sounds: Not less the Prince is seen
In Beauty, graceful, and commanding Mein.—
The great Æneas, when the Troop he joins:
Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the Frost
Of wintry Xanthus, and the Lycian Coast:
When to his native Delos he resorts,
Ordains the Dances, and renews the Sports:
Green Wreaths of Bays his Length of Hair inclose:
A Golden Fillet binds his aweful Brows:
111
In Beauty, graceful, and commanding Mein.—
Young Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest:
Gilded his Arms, embroider'd was his Vest.
So, from the Seas, exerts his radiant Head,
The Star, by whom the Lights of Heav'n are led:
Shakes from his rosy Locks the pearly Dews:
Dispels the Darkness, and the Day renews.—
Gilded his Arms, embroider'd was his Vest.
So, from the Seas, exerts his radiant Head,
The Star, by whom the Lights of Heav'n are led:
Shakes from his rosy Locks the pearly Dews:
Dispels the Darkness, and the Day renews.—
As Lucifer excels the meanest Star,
Or, as the full-orb'd Phœbe Lucifer:
So much did Hersè all the rest outvye,
And gave a Grace to the Solemnity.—
Or, as the full-orb'd Phœbe Lucifer:
So much did Hersè all the rest outvye,
And gave a Grace to the Solemnity.—
Graceful was
his Mein,
His Person lovely, and his Age sixteen.
His Habit made his native Beauty more:
A purple Mantle fring'd with Gold he wore.
Rich Chains of Gold adorn'd his Neck so fair,
And moist with Myrrh was form'd a Crownet of his Hair.—
His Person lovely, and his Age sixteen.
His Habit made his native Beauty more:
A purple Mantle fring'd with Gold he wore.
Rich Chains of Gold adorn'd his Neck so fair,
And moist with Myrrh was form'd a Crownet of his Hair.—
Thy beauteous Eyes shine with celestial Fire,
And rosy Odours from thy Neck aspire:
Brighter than Gold thy burnish'd Tresses flow,
Thy balmy Lips like the bright Crimson glow.
Meandring Veins sublime thy Bosom's White,
And ev'ry Grace adorns Thee for Delight.
Each Goddess' boasted Charms in thine we see,
And vanquish'd Venus yields the Prize to Thee.
Thy Hands are silver, and with am'rous Pride
The silky Threads thro' thy soft Fingers slide.
Thy Feet, too lovely e'er to touch the Ground!
From no invidious Pebbles fear a Wound:
For whensoe'er you o'er the Lillies tread,
Th' uninjur'd Flow'r scarce bends its snowy Head.
Let costly Jewels meaner Beauties wear,
To grace their Necks, or glitter in their Hair:
You, unadorn'd, are exquisitely fair.
There's some Defect in ev'ry Thing we view,
But Envy's self can't spy a Fault in you.—
And rosy Odours from thy Neck aspire:
Brighter than Gold thy burnish'd Tresses flow,
Thy balmy Lips like the bright Crimson glow.
Meandring Veins sublime thy Bosom's White,
And ev'ry Grace adorns Thee for Delight.
Each Goddess' boasted Charms in thine we see,
And vanquish'd Venus yields the Prize to Thee.
Thy Hands are silver, and with am'rous Pride
The silky Threads thro' thy soft Fingers slide.
Thy Feet, too lovely e'er to touch the Ground!
From no invidious Pebbles fear a Wound:
For whensoe'er you o'er the Lillies tread,
Th' uninjur'd Flow'r scarce bends its snowy Head.
Let costly Jewels meaner Beauties wear,
To grace their Necks, or glitter in their Hair:
You, unadorn'd, are exquisitely fair.
There's some Defect in ev'ry Thing we view,
But Envy's self can't spy a Fault in you.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |