A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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First Concert. HYMN TO APOLLO.
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A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | ||
491
First Concert. HYMN TO APOLLO.
Chorus of Youths and Virgins.
Tityos, with impious Lust inspir'd,
By chaste Latona's Beauties fir'd,
Thy Wrath, O Phœbus, try'd;
And Niobe, of Tongue profane,
Deplor'd her numerous Offspring slain,
Sad Victims of their Mother's Pride.
By chaste Latona's Beauties fir'd,
Thy Wrath, O Phœbus, try'd;
And Niobe, of Tongue profane,
Deplor'd her numerous Offspring slain,
Sad Victims of their Mother's Pride.
Achilles too, the Son of Fame,
Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born Dame,
And first of Men in Fight,
Though warring with tremendous Spear
He shook the Trojan Towers with Fear,
Yet bow'd to thy superiour Might;
Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born Dame,
And first of Men in Fight,
Though warring with tremendous Spear
He shook the Trojan Towers with Fear,
Yet bow'd to thy superiour Might;
The Cypress, when by Storms impell'd,
Or Pine, by biting Axes fell'd,
Low bends the towering Head;
So falling on th' ensanguin'd Plain,
By your unerring Arrow slain
His mighty Bulk the Hero spread.
Or Pine, by biting Axes fell'd,
Low bends the towering Head;
So falling on th' ensanguin'd Plain,
By your unerring Arrow slain
His mighty Bulk the Hero spread.
493
He would not Priam's heedless Court,
Dissolv'd in Wine, and festal Sport,
With midnight Art surprise,
But bravely bold, of open Force,
Would proudly scorn Minerva's Horse,
And all its holy Cheat despise:
Dissolv'd in Wine, and festal Sport,
With midnight Art surprise,
But bravely bold, of open Force,
Would proudly scorn Minerva's Horse,
And all its holy Cheat despise:
Then arm'd, alas! with Horrours dire,
Wide-wasting with resistless Ire,
Into the Flames had thrown
Infants, upon whose faultering Tongue
Their Words in formless Accents hung,
Even those to Light and Life unknown:
Wide-wasting with resistless Ire,
Into the Flames had thrown
Infants, upon whose faultering Tongue
Their Words in formless Accents hung,
Even those to Light and Life unknown:
But charm'd by Beauty's Queen and Thee,
The Sire of Gods, with just Decree
Assenting, shook the Skies;
That Troy should change th'imperial Seat,
And guided by a better Fate,
Glorious in distant Realms should rise.
The Sire of Gods, with just Decree
Assenting, shook the Skies;
That Troy should change th'imperial Seat,
And guided by a better Fate,
Glorious in distant Realms should rise.
Oh! may the God, who could inspire
With living Sounds the Grecian Lyre;
In Xanthus' lucid Stream
Who joys to bathe his flowing Hair,
Now make the Latian Muse his Care,
And powerful guard her rising Fame.
With living Sounds the Grecian Lyre;
In Xanthus' lucid Stream
Who joys to bathe his flowing Hair,
Now make the Latian Muse his Care,
And powerful guard her rising Fame.
A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | ||