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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Weather. Prognostics.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Weather. Prognostics.
E'er Winds arise:—Or,
swells the working Flood:
Or, a harsh Crash is heard throughout the Wood:
Or, mingling, sound the Coasts from distant Seas,
And gathering Murmur rustles in the Trees.
Then scarce the Wave from bended Skiffs abstains,
When Cormorants forsake the watry Plains,
And scream along the Shore: when swift to Land
The Sea-gulls haste, and sport along the Strand:
Or, when the Hern prepares his lofty Flight,
Quits the known Marsh, and mounts th' Etherial Height.
Oft too, you'll see, when furious Winds impend,
Precipitate, the Stars from Heav'n descend;
And far behind, thro' gloomy Shades of Night,
Glitter, and whiten the long Trails of Light:
Oft whirl in Air dry Straw, and with'ring Leaves,
And Feathers wanton on the simm'ring Waves.
Or, a harsh Crash is heard throughout the Wood:
Or, mingling, sound the Coasts from distant Seas,
And gathering Murmur rustles in the Trees.
Then scarce the Wave from bended Skiffs abstains,
When Cormorants forsake the watry Plains,
And scream along the Shore: when swift to Land
The Sea-gulls haste, and sport along the Strand:
Or, when the Hern prepares his lofty Flight,
Quits the known Marsh, and mounts th' Etherial Height.
493
Precipitate, the Stars from Heav'n descend;
And far behind, thro' gloomy Shades of Night,
Glitter, and whiten the long Trails of Light:
Oft whirl in Air dry Straw, and with'ring Leaves,
And Feathers wanton on the simm'ring Waves.
But from the North when flashing
Lightnings fly,
And East, and Westward, Thunder rends the Sky:
Then with the swelling Dykes swims all the Plain:
Then ev'ry Seaman, on the foaming Main,
Quick gathers up the Sails all drench'd with Rain.
None, uninform'd, e'er did the Show'r assail:
Cranes, as it rose, flew downwards to the Vale:
Or, gazing on the Heavens stood the Steer,
And with wide Nostrils snuff'd the humid Air:
Or, Swallows, chatt'ring, round the Lake have flown,
And miry Frogs sung out their antient Moan.
And oftner has the Ant with busy Tread,
Up from the Nether-Cells her Eggs convey'd:
Deep drank the mighty Bow: and foodless rose
Loud, with their rustling Wings, a Host of Crows.
Now may you see wide Ocean's various Fowls,
And those that haunt Cayster's well-lov'd Pools,
In wanton Strife the Silver-Flood divide,
And lave their Shoulders with the sparkling Tide:
Now with their downy Breasts the Torrent stem:
Now plunge their Heads: now run upon the Stream:
With endless Labour ply the watry Plain,
And dive, and wash, and proudly wash in vain.
Then, with full Voice the Rook the Show'r demands,
And solitary stalks along the thirsty Sands.
Nor is unskilful of impending Storms
The Virgin, nightly, that her Task performs:
When sparkling in the Lamp the Oyl she sees,
And fungous Balls around the Wick increase.
And East, and Westward, Thunder rends the Sky:
Then with the swelling Dykes swims all the Plain:
Then ev'ry Seaman, on the foaming Main,
Quick gathers up the Sails all drench'd with Rain.
None, uninform'd, e'er did the Show'r assail:
Cranes, as it rose, flew downwards to the Vale:
Or, gazing on the Heavens stood the Steer,
And with wide Nostrils snuff'd the humid Air:
Or, Swallows, chatt'ring, round the Lake have flown,
And miry Frogs sung out their antient Moan.
And oftner has the Ant with busy Tread,
Up from the Nether-Cells her Eggs convey'd:
Deep drank the mighty Bow: and foodless rose
Loud, with their rustling Wings, a Host of Crows.
Now may you see wide Ocean's various Fowls,
And those that haunt Cayster's well-lov'd Pools,
In wanton Strife the Silver-Flood divide,
And lave their Shoulders with the sparkling Tide:
Now with their downy Breasts the Torrent stem:
Now plunge their Heads: now run upon the Stream:
With endless Labour ply the watry Plain,
And dive, and wash, and proudly wash in vain.
Then, with full Voice the Rook the Show'r demands,
And solitary stalks along the thirsty Sands.
Nor is unskilful of impending Storms
The Virgin, nightly, that her Task performs:
When sparkling in the Lamp the Oyl she sees,
And fungous Balls around the Wick increase.
Nor from less certain Signs mayst Thou descry
Unshowery Suns, and an expanded Sky.
Then keen the Stars appear: nor, rising, seems
The Moon a Debtor to her Brother's Beams:
Then do the wafting Winds no longer bear
The fleecy Flakes; serene and still the Air:
Nor to the tepid Sun their Wings expand,
The Sea-lov'd Halcyons, basking on the Strand:
Nor mindful are the Swine, with Jaws display'd,
To gripe the Straw, and toss their rustling Bed:
But downwards glides the Mist, and lodges on the Mead:
And Owls, still waiting on the Sun's Retreat,
In vain their Midnight Songs aloft repeat.
Then, thrice, or four times, firmly prest the Throat,
The Rooks redouble every clearer Note:
Gay, with I know not what unusual Joys,
They crowd the Trees, and chatt'ring is their Noise.
What dear Delight possesses every Breast,
When each beholds, soon as the Storms are ceas'd,
Her tender Young once more, and pleasing Nest.
Not that I think the Gods to them dispense
Of Things in Fate a more discerning Sense:
But when the Storm, and moist inconstant Skies
Alternate Change: when southern Tempests rise,
Condense what's thin, and what's condens'd more rare
By Warmth becomes, they vary with the Air:
Now one Impression in their Bosoms dwells,
Another when the Wind the Clouds dispels:
Hence from the Birds that warbling Concert flows:
Hence Herds exult, and hoarsely shout the Crows.
Unshowery Suns, and an expanded Sky.
495
The Moon a Debtor to her Brother's Beams:
Then do the wafting Winds no longer bear
The fleecy Flakes; serene and still the Air:
Nor to the tepid Sun their Wings expand,
The Sea-lov'd Halcyons, basking on the Strand:
Nor mindful are the Swine, with Jaws display'd,
To gripe the Straw, and toss their rustling Bed:
But downwards glides the Mist, and lodges on the Mead:
And Owls, still waiting on the Sun's Retreat,
In vain their Midnight Songs aloft repeat.
Then, thrice, or four times, firmly prest the Throat,
The Rooks redouble every clearer Note:
Gay, with I know not what unusual Joys,
They crowd the Trees, and chatt'ring is their Noise.
What dear Delight possesses every Breast,
When each beholds, soon as the Storms are ceas'd,
Her tender Young once more, and pleasing Nest.
Not that I think the Gods to them dispense
Of Things in Fate a more discerning Sense:
But when the Storm, and moist inconstant Skies
Alternate Change: when southern Tempests rise,
Condense what's thin, and what's condens'd more rare
By Warmth becomes, they vary with the Air:
Now one Impression in their Bosoms dwells,
Another when the Wind the Clouds dispels:
Hence from the Birds that warbling Concert flows:
Hence Herds exult, and hoarsely shout the Crows.
But to the rapid Sun if You attend,
And how the Moons their following Courses bend,
You'll ne'er be taken by th' ensuing Day,
Nor shall fair Nights, insiduous, Thee betray.
When first the Moon collects the coming Rays,
If she thick Air in her dark Horn displays,
Vast Show'rs invade the Peasant and the Seas:
But if a Virgin Blush her Face o'er-spread,
Winds blow:—with Wind still Phœbe's Cheeks are red:
But at her fourth Ascent if pointed rise
The silver Horns, and bright she trips the Skies,
That Day entire, and all it's following Race,
Till fully, she compleats her monthly Space,
(Safe by this Sign) nor Storms shall know, nor Rain:
And Sailors; rescu'd from the boist'rous Main,
Their promis'd Vows shall pay to all the watry Reign.
And how the Moons their following Courses bend,
You'll ne'er be taken by th' ensuing Day,
Nor shall fair Nights, insiduous, Thee betray.
When first the Moon collects the coming Rays,
If she thick Air in her dark Horn displays,
Vast Show'rs invade the Peasant and the Seas:
But if a Virgin Blush her Face o'er-spread,
Winds blow:—with Wind still Phœbe's Cheeks are red:
497
The silver Horns, and bright she trips the Skies,
That Day entire, and all it's following Race,
Till fully, she compleats her monthly Space,
(Safe by this Sign) nor Storms shall know, nor Rain:
And Sailors; rescu'd from the boist'rous Main,
Their promis'd Vows shall pay to all the watry Reign.
And thus the Sun, as Rising he appears,
Or dipt in Ocean, various Signs declares:
Unerring Signs his circling Course attend,
Or in the Morn, or when the Stars ascend.
Whene'er he mottles o'er his new-born Light,
Or masks in Clouds, or half retires from Sight,
Suspect the Show'r: For, fatal to the Sown,
And Trees, and Herds, the South comes pouring down.
If, at the purple Dawn, his struggling Rays
Strike thro' the thick'ning Skies a scatter'd Blaze:
If, o'er her Cheeks a livid Paleness shed,
Aurora springs from Tithon's saffron Bed:
Ah! what can Leaves to guard the Grapes avail?
So rattling bounds on Roofs the horrid Hail!
But, from Olympus, just as he slides down,
'Twould profit more to have observ'd the Sun.
Oft o'er his Face are diff'rent Colours spread:
Thick Rains the Azure, Winds denote the Red:
But intermingled if the Spots appear
With shining Flame, then Winds and Clouds prepare
With equal Rage, an universal War:
That Night let none to venture on the Sea,
Or to untie the Cable, counsel me.
But if his Orb all lucid shines, and gay,
When forth he leads, and when he hides the Day,
Fear not the Storm: You'll see the northern Breeze
Slide thro' the Grove, and gently move the Trees.
Lastly, to what the Ev'ning is inclin'd,
From whence shall come the Cloud-dispelling Wind,
And of the humid South the secret Mind,
The Sun to You repeated Tokens gives:
And who dares say that e'er the Sun deceives?—
Or dipt in Ocean, various Signs declares:
Unerring Signs his circling Course attend,
Or in the Morn, or when the Stars ascend.
Whene'er he mottles o'er his new-born Light,
Or masks in Clouds, or half retires from Sight,
Suspect the Show'r: For, fatal to the Sown,
And Trees, and Herds, the South comes pouring down.
If, at the purple Dawn, his struggling Rays
Strike thro' the thick'ning Skies a scatter'd Blaze:
If, o'er her Cheeks a livid Paleness shed,
Aurora springs from Tithon's saffron Bed:
Ah! what can Leaves to guard the Grapes avail?
So rattling bounds on Roofs the horrid Hail!
But, from Olympus, just as he slides down,
'Twould profit more to have observ'd the Sun.
Oft o'er his Face are diff'rent Colours spread:
Thick Rains the Azure, Winds denote the Red:
But intermingled if the Spots appear
With shining Flame, then Winds and Clouds prepare
With equal Rage, an universal War:
That Night let none to venture on the Sea,
Or to untie the Cable, counsel me.
But if his Orb all lucid shines, and gay,
When forth he leads, and when he hides the Day,
Fear not the Storm: You'll see the northern Breeze
Slide thro' the Grove, and gently move the Trees.
Lastly, to what the Ev'ning is inclin'd,
From whence shall come the Cloud-dispelling Wind,
And of the humid South the secret Mind,
499
And who dares say that e'er the Sun deceives?—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |