 | Poems (1810) |  |
116
THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.
Achilles' fatal wrath, whence discord rose,
That brought the sons of Greece unnumber'd woes,
O goddess, sing. Full many a hero's ghost
Was driven untimely to th' infernal coast,
While in promiscuous heaps their bodies lay,
A feast for dogs, and every bird of prey.
So did the sire of gods and men fulfil
His stedfast purpose, and almighty will;
What time the haughty chiefs their jars begun,
Atrides, king of men, and Peleus' godlike son.
That brought the sons of Greece unnumber'd woes,
O goddess, sing. Full many a hero's ghost
Was driven untimely to th' infernal coast,
While in promiscuous heaps their bodies lay,
A feast for dogs, and every bird of prey.
So did the sire of gods and men fulfil
His stedfast purpose, and almighty will;
What time the haughty chiefs their jars begun,
Atrides, king of men, and Peleus' godlike son.
What god in strife the princes did engage?
Apollo burning with vindictive rage
Against the scornful king, whose impious pride
His priest dishonour'd, and his power defy'd.
Hence swift contagion, by the god's commands,
Swept thro' the camp, and thinn'd the Grecian bands.
Apollo burning with vindictive rage
Against the scornful king, whose impious pride
His priest dishonour'd, and his power defy'd.
Hence swift contagion, by the god's commands,
Swept thro' the camp, and thinn'd the Grecian bands.
For, wealth immense the holy Chryses bore,
(His daughter's ransom) to the tented shore:
His sceptre stretching forth, the golden rod,
Hung round with hallow'd garlands of his god,
Of all the host, of every princely chief,
But first of Atreus' sons he begg'd relief:
(His daughter's ransom) to the tented shore:
His sceptre stretching forth, the golden rod,
Hung round with hallow'd garlands of his god,
Of all the host, of every princely chief,
But first of Atreus' sons he begg'd relief:
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“Great Atreus' sons and warlike Greeks attend.
So may th' immortal gods your cause befriend,
So may you Priam's lofty bulwarks burn,
And rich in gather'd spoils to Greece return,
As for these gifts my daughter you bestow,
And reverence due to great Apollo show,
Jove's favourite offspring, terrible in war,
Who sends his shafts unerring from afar.’
So may th' immortal gods your cause befriend,
So may you Priam's lofty bulwarks burn,
And rich in gather'd spoils to Greece return,
As for these gifts my daughter you bestow,
And reverence due to great Apollo show,
Jove's favourite offspring, terrible in war,
Who sends his shafts unerring from afar.’
Thoughout the host consenting murmurs rise,
The priest to reverence, and give back the prize;
When the great king, incens'd, his silence broke
In words reproachful, and thus sternly spoke:
The priest to reverence, and give back the prize;
When the great king, incens'd, his silence broke
In words reproachful, and thus sternly spoke:
Hence, dotard, from my sight. Nor ever more
Approach, I warn thee, this forbidden shore;
Lest thou stretch forth, my fury to restrain,
The wreaths and sceptre of thy god, in vain.
The captive maid I never will resign,
Till age o'ertakes her, I have vow'd her mine.
To distant Argos shall the fair be led:
She shall; to ply the loom, and grace my bed.
Begone, ere evil intercept thy way.
Hence on thy life: nor urge me by thy stay.”
Approach, I warn thee, this forbidden shore;
Lest thou stretch forth, my fury to restrain,
The wreaths and sceptre of thy god, in vain.
The captive maid I never will resign,
Till age o'ertakes her, I have vow'd her mine.
To distant Argos shall the fair be led:
She shall; to ply the loom, and grace my bed.
Begone, ere evil intercept thy way.
Hence on thy life: nor urge me by thy stay.”
He ended frowning. Speechless and dismay'd,
The aged sire his stern command obey'd.
Silent he pass'd, amid the deafening roar
Of tumbling billows, on the lonely shore;
Far from the camp he pass'd: then suppliant stood;
And thus the hoary priest invok'd his god:
The aged sire his stern command obey'd.
Silent he pass'd, amid the deafening roar
Of tumbling billows, on the lonely shore;
Far from the camp he pass'd: then suppliant stood;
And thus the hoary priest invok'd his god:
“Dread warrior with the silver bow, give ear.
Patron of Chrysa and of Cilla, hear.
To thee the guard of Tenedos belongs;
Propitious Smintheus! Oh! redress my wrongs.
If e'er within thy fane, with wreaths adorn'd,
The fat of bulls and well-fed goats I burn'd,
O! hear my prayer. Let Greece thy fury know,
And with thy shafts avenge thy servant's woe.”
Patron of Chrysa and of Cilla, hear.
To thee the guard of Tenedos belongs;
Propitious Smintheus! Oh! redress my wrongs.
If e'er within thy fane, with wreaths adorn'd,
The fat of bulls and well-fed goats I burn'd,
O! hear my prayer. Let Greece thy fury know,
And with thy shafts avenge thy servant's woe.”
Apollo heard his injur'd suppliant's cry.
Down rush'd the vengeful warrior from the sky;
Across his breast the glittering bow he slung,
And at his back the well-stor'd quiver hung:
(His arrows rattled, as he urg'd his flight.)
In clouds he flew, conceal'd from mortal sight;
Then took his stand, the well-aim'd shaft to throw:
Fierce sprung the string, and twang'd the silver bow.
The dogs and mules his first keen arrow slew;
Amid the ranks the next more fatal flew,
A deathful dart. The funeral piles around
For ever blaz'd on the devoted ground.
Down rush'd the vengeful warrior from the sky;
Across his breast the glittering bow he slung,
And at his back the well-stor'd quiver hung:
(His arrows rattled, as he urg'd his flight.)
In clouds he flew, conceal'd from mortal sight;
Then took his stand, the well-aim'd shaft to throw:
Fierce sprung the string, and twang'd the silver bow.
The dogs and mules his first keen arrow slew;
Amid the ranks the next more fatal flew,
A deathful dart. The funeral piles around
For ever blaz'd on the devoted ground.
Nine days entire he vex'd th' embattled host,
The tenth, Achilles through the winding coast
Summon'd a council, by the queen's command
Who wields Heaven's sceptre in her snowy hand:
She mourn'd her favourite Greeks, who now enclose
The hero, swiftly speaking as he rose:
The tenth, Achilles through the winding coast
Summon'd a council, by the queen's command
Who wields Heaven's sceptre in her snowy hand:
She mourn'd her favourite Greeks, who now enclose
The hero, swiftly speaking as he rose:
“What now, O Atreus' son, remains in view,
But o'er the deep our wanderings to renew,
Doom'd to destruction, while our wasted powers
The sword and pestilence at once devours?
Why haste we not some prophet's skill to prove,
Or seek by dreams? (for dreams descend from Jove.)
What moves Apollo's rage let him explain,
What vow withheld, what hecatomb unslain:
And if the blood of lambs and goats can pay
The price for guilt, and turn this curse away?”
But o'er the deep our wanderings to renew,
Doom'd to destruction, while our wasted powers
The sword and pestilence at once devours?
Why haste we not some prophet's skill to prove,
Or seek by dreams? (for dreams descend from Jove.)
What moves Apollo's rage let him explain,
What vow withheld, what hecatomb unslain:
And if the blood of lambs and goats can pay
The price for guilt, and turn this curse away?”
Thus he. And next the reverend Calchas rose,
Their guide to Ilion whom the Grecians chose;
The prince of augurs, whose enlighten'd eye
Could things past, present, and to come, descry:
Such wisdom Phœbus gave. He thus began,
His speech addressing to the godlike man:
Their guide to Ilion whom the Grecians chose;
The prince of augurs, whose enlighten'd eye
Could things past, present, and to come, descry:
Such wisdom Phœbus gave. He thus began,
His speech addressing to the godlike man:
“Me then command'st thou, lov'd of Jove, to show
What moves the god that bends the dreadful bow?
First plight thy faith thy ready help to lend,
By words to aid me, or by arms defend.
For I foresee his rage, whose ample sway
The Argian powers and sceptred chiefs obey.
The wrath of kings what subject can oppose?
Deep in their breasts the smother'd vengeance glows,
Still watchful to distroy. Swear, valiant youth,
Swear, wilt thou guard me, if I speak the truth?”
What moves the god that bends the dreadful bow?
First plight thy faith thy ready help to lend,
By words to aid me, or by arms defend.
For I foresee his rage, whose ample sway
The Argian powers and sceptred chiefs obey.
The wrath of kings what subject can oppose?
Deep in their breasts the smother'd vengeance glows,
Still watchful to distroy. Swear, valiant youth,
Swear, wilt thou guard me, if I speak the truth?”
To this Achilles swift replies: “Be bold.
Disclose, what Phœbus tells thee, uncontrol'd.
By him, who, listening to thy powerful prayer,
Reveals the secret, I devoutly swear,
That, while these eyes behold the light, no hand
Shall dare to wrong thee on this crowded strand.
Not Atreus' son: though now himself he boast
The king of men, and sovereign of the host.”
Disclose, what Phœbus tells thee, uncontrol'd.
By him, who, listening to thy powerful prayer,
Reveals the secret, I devoutly swear,
That, while these eyes behold the light, no hand
Shall dare to wrong thee on this crowded strand.
Not Atreus' son: though now himself he boast
The king of men, and sovereign of the host.”
Then boldly he. “Nor does the god complain
Of vows withheld, or hecatombs unslain.
Chryseïs to her awful sire refus'd,
The gifts rejected, and the priest abus'd,
Call down these judgments, and for more they call,
Just ready on th' exhausted camp to fall;
Till ransom-free the damsel is bestow'd,
And hecatombs are sent to sooth the god,
To Chrysa sent. Perhaps Apollo's rage
The gifts may expiate, and the priest assuage.”
Of vows withheld, or hecatombs unslain.
Chryseïs to her awful sire refus'd,
The gifts rejected, and the priest abus'd,
Call down these judgments, and for more they call,
Just ready on th' exhausted camp to fall;
Till ransom-free the damsel is bestow'd,
And hecatombs are sent to sooth the god,
To Chrysa sent. Perhaps Apollo's rage
The gifts may expiate, and the priest assuage.”
He spoke and sat. When, with an angry frown,
The chief of kings upstarted from his throne.
Disdain and vengeance in his bosom rise,
Lour in his brows, and sparkle in his eyes:
Full at the priest their fiery orbs he bent,
And all at once his fury found a vent.
The chief of kings upstarted from his throne.
Disdain and vengeance in his bosom rise,
Lour in his brows, and sparkle in his eyes:
Full at the priest their fiery orbs he bent,
And all at once his fury found a vent.
“Augur of ills, (for never good to me
Did that most inauspicious voice decree)
For ever ready to denounce my woes,
When Greece is punish'd, I am still the cause;
And now when Phœbus spreads his plagues abroad,
And wastes our camp, 'tis I provoke the god,
Because my blooming captive I detain,
And the large ransom is produc'd in vain.
Fond of the maid, my queen, in beauty's pride,
Ne'er charm'd me more, a virgin and a bride;
Not Clytæmnestra boasts a nobler race,
A sweeter temper, or a lovelier face,
In works of female skill hath more command,
Or guides the needle with a nicer hand.
Yet she shall go. The fair our peace shall buy:
Better I suffer, than my people die.
But mark me well. See instantly prepar'd
A full equivalent, a new reward.
Nor is it meet, while each enjoys his share,
Your chief should lose his portion of the war:
In vain your chief; whilst the dear prize, I boast,
Is wrested from me, and for ever lost,”
Did that most inauspicious voice decree)
For ever ready to denounce my woes,
When Greece is punish'd, I am still the cause;
And now when Phœbus spreads his plagues abroad,
And wastes our camp, 'tis I provoke the god,
Because my blooming captive I detain,
And the large ransom is produc'd in vain.
Fond of the maid, my queen, in beauty's pride,
Ne'er charm'd me more, a virgin and a bride;
Not Clytæmnestra boasts a nobler race,
A sweeter temper, or a lovelier face,
In works of female skill hath more command,
Or guides the needle with a nicer hand.
Yet she shall go. The fair our peace shall buy:
Better I suffer, than my people die.
But mark me well. See instantly prepar'd
A full equivalent, a new reward.
Nor is it meet, while each enjoys his share,
Your chief should lose his portion of the war:
In vain your chief; whilst the dear prize, I boast,
Is wrested from me, and for ever lost,”
To whom the swift pursuer quick reply'd:
“Oh sunk in avarice, and swoln with pride!
How shall the Greeks, though large of soul they be,
Collect their sever'd spoils, a heap for thee
To search anew, and cull the choicest share
Amid the mighty harvest of the war?
Then yield thy captive to the god resign'd,
Assur'd a tenfold recompense to find,
When Jove's decree shall throw proud Ilion down,
And give to plunder the devoted town.”
“Oh sunk in avarice, and swoln with pride!
How shall the Greeks, though large of soul they be,
Collect their sever'd spoils, a heap for thee
To search anew, and cull the choicest share
Amid the mighty harvest of the war?
Then yield thy captive to the god resign'd,
Assur'd a tenfold recompense to find,
When Jove's decree shall throw proud Ilion down,
And give to plunder the devoted town.”
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“Think not,” Atrides answer'd, “though thou shine,
Graceful in beauty, like the powers divine,
Think not, thy wiles, in specious words convey'd,
From its firm purpose shall my soul dissuade.
Must I alone bereft sit down with shame,
And thou insulting keep thy captive dame?
If, as I ask, the large-soul'd Greeks consent
Full recompense to give, I stand content.
If not: a prize I shall myself decree,
From him, or him, or else perhaps from thee.
While the proud prince, despoil'd, shall rage in vain.
But break we here. The rest let time explain.
Launch now a well-trim'd galley from the shore,
With hands experienc'd at the bending oar:
Enclose the hecatomb; and then with care
To the high deck convey the captive fair.
The sacred bark let sage Ulysses guide,
Or Ajax, or Idomeneus, preside:
Or thou, O mighty man, the chief shalt be.
And who more fit to soothe the god than thee?’
Graceful in beauty, like the powers divine,
Think not, thy wiles, in specious words convey'd,
From its firm purpose shall my soul dissuade.
Must I alone bereft sit down with shame,
And thou insulting keep thy captive dame?
If, as I ask, the large-soul'd Greeks consent
Full recompense to give, I stand content.
If not: a prize I shall myself decree,
From him, or him, or else perhaps from thee.
While the proud prince, despoil'd, shall rage in vain.
But break we here. The rest let time explain.
Launch now a well-trim'd galley from the shore,
With hands experienc'd at the bending oar:
Enclose the hecatomb; and then with care
To the high deck convey the captive fair.
The sacred bark let sage Ulysses guide,
Or Ajax, or Idomeneus, preside:
Or thou, O mighty man, the chief shalt be.
And who more fit to soothe the god than thee?’
“Shameless, and poor of soul,” the prince replies,
And on the monarch casts his scornful eyes,
“What Greek henceforth will march at thy command
In search of danger on the doubtful strand?
Who in the face of day provoke the fight,
Or tempt the secret ambush of the night?
Not I, be sure. Henceforward I am free.
For ne'er was Priam's house a foe to me.
Far from their inroads, in my pastures feed
The lowing heifer, and the pamper'd steed,
On Phthia's hills our fruits securely grow,
And ripen careless of the distant foe,
Between whose realms and our Thessalian shore
Unnumber'd mountains rise, and billows roar.
For thine, and for thy baffled brother's fame,
Across those seas, disdainful man, I came;
Yet, insolent! by arbitrary sway
Thou talk'st of seizing on my rightful prey,
The prize whose purchase toils and dangers cost,
And given by suffrage of the Grecian host.
What town, when sack'd by our victorious bands,
But still brought wealth to those rapacious hands?
To me, thus scorn'd, contented dost thou yield
My share of blood in the tumultuous field;
But still the flower of all the spoil is thine;
There claim'st thou most. Nor e'er did I repine.
Whate'er was giv'n I took, and thought it best,
With slaughter tir'd, and panting after rest.
To Phthia now, for I shall fight no more,
My ships their crooked prows shall turn from shore.
When I am scorn'd, I think I well foresee
What spoils and pillage will be won by thee.’
And on the monarch casts his scornful eyes,
“What Greek henceforth will march at thy command
In search of danger on the doubtful strand?
Who in the face of day provoke the fight,
Or tempt the secret ambush of the night?
Not I, be sure. Henceforward I am free.
For ne'er was Priam's house a foe to me.
Far from their inroads, in my pastures feed
The lowing heifer, and the pamper'd steed,
On Phthia's hills our fruits securely grow,
And ripen careless of the distant foe,
Between whose realms and our Thessalian shore
Unnumber'd mountains rise, and billows roar.
For thine, and for thy baffled brother's fame,
Across those seas, disdainful man, I came;
Yet, insolent! by arbitrary sway
Thou talk'st of seizing on my rightful prey,
The prize whose purchase toils and dangers cost,
And given by suffrage of the Grecian host.
What town, when sack'd by our victorious bands,
But still brought wealth to those rapacious hands?
To me, thus scorn'd, contented dost thou yield
My share of blood in the tumultuous field;
But still the flower of all the spoil is thine;
There claim'st thou most. Nor e'er did I repine.
Whate'er was giv'n I took, and thought it best,
With slaughter tir'd, and panting after rest.
To Phthia now, for I shall fight no more,
My ships their crooked prows shall turn from shore.
When I am scorn'd, I think I well foresee
What spoils and pillage will be won by thee.’
“Hence!” cry'd the monarch, “hence! without delay,”
Think not, vain man! my voice shall urge thy stay.
Others thou leav'st, to the great cause inclin'd,
A league of kings thou leav'st, and Jove behind.
Of all the chiefs dost thou oppose me most:
Outrage and uproar are thy only boast.
Discord and jars thy joy. But learn to know,
If thou art strong, 'tis Jove hath made thee so.
Go, at thy pleasure. None will stop thy way.
Go, bid thy base-born Myrmidons obey.
Thou, nor thy rage, shall my resolves subdue;
I fix my purpose, and my threats renew.
Since 'tis decreed I must the maid restore,
A ship shall waft her to th' offended power;
But fair Briseïs, thy allotted prize,
Myself will seize, and seize before thy eyes:
That thou and each audacious man may see,
How vain the rash attempt to cope with me.”
Think not, vain man! my voice shall urge thy stay.
Others thou leav'st, to the great cause inclin'd,
A league of kings thou leav'st, and Jove behind.
Of all the chiefs dost thou oppose me most:
Outrage and uproar are thy only boast.
Discord and jars thy joy. But learn to know,
If thou art strong, 'tis Jove hath made thee so.
Go, at thy pleasure. None will stop thy way.
Go, bid thy base-born Myrmidons obey.
Thou, nor thy rage, shall my resolves subdue;
I fix my purpose, and my threats renew.
Since 'tis decreed I must the maid restore,
A ship shall waft her to th' offended power;
But fair Briseïs, thy allotted prize,
Myself will seize, and seize before thy eyes:
That thou and each audacious man may see,
How vain the rash attempt to cope with me.”
Stung to the soul, tumultuous thoughts began
This way and that to rend the godlike man.
To force a passage with his falchion drawn,
And hurl th' imperial boaster from his throne,
He now resolves: and now resolves again
To quell his fury, and his arm restrain.
While thus by turns his rage and reason sway'd,
And half unsheath'd he held the glittering blade;
That moment, Juno, whose impartial eye
Watch'd o'er them both, sent Pallas from the sky:
She flew, and caught his yellow hair behind,
(To him alone the radiant goddess shin'd.)
Sudden he turn'd, and started with surprize;
Rage and revenge flash'd dreadful in his eyes.
This way and that to rend the godlike man.
To force a passage with his falchion drawn,
And hurl th' imperial boaster from his throne,
He now resolves: and now resolves again
To quell his fury, and his arm restrain.
While thus by turns his rage and reason sway'd,
And half unsheath'd he held the glittering blade;
That moment, Juno, whose impartial eye
Watch'd o'er them both, sent Pallas from the sky:
She flew, and caught his yellow hair behind,
(To him alone the radiant goddess shin'd.)
Sudden he turn'd, and started with surprize;
Rage and revenge flash'd dreadful in his eyes.
Then thus with hasty words: “O! heavenly-born,
Com'st thou to see proud Agamemnon's scorn?
But thou shalt see (my sword shall make it good)
This glutted sand smoke with the tyrant's blood.”
Com'st thou to see proud Agamemnon's scorn?
But thou shalt see (my sword shall make it good)
This glutted sand smoke with the tyrant's blood.”
“To sooth thy soul” the blue-ey'd maid replies,
“(If thou obey my voice) I left the skies.
Heaven's queen, who favours both, gave this command!
Suppress thy wrath, and stay thy vengeful hand.
Be all thy rage in tauntful words exprest;
But guiltless let the thirsty falchion rest.
Mark what I speak. An hour is on its way,
When gifts tenfold for this affront shall pay.
Suppress thy wrath; and Heaven and me obey.
“(If thou obey my voice) I left the skies.
Heaven's queen, who favours both, gave this command!
Suppress thy wrath, and stay thy vengeful hand.
Be all thy rage in tauntful words exprest;
But guiltless let the thirsty falchion rest.
Mark what I speak. An hour is on its way,
When gifts tenfold for this affront shall pay.
Suppress thy wrath; and Heaven and me obey.
Then he: “I yield; though with reluctant mind.
Who yields to Heaven shall Heaven propitious find.”
The silver hilt close-grasping, at the word,
Deep in the sheath he plung'd his mighty sword.
The goddess, turning, darted from his sight,
And reach'd Olympus in a moment's flight.
Who yields to Heaven shall Heaven propitious find.”
The silver hilt close-grasping, at the word,
Deep in the sheath he plung'd his mighty sword.
The goddess, turning, darted from his sight,
And reach'd Olympus in a moment's flight.
But fierce Achilles, in a thundering tone,
Throws out his wrath, and goes impetuous on:
Throws out his wrath, and goes impetuous on:
“Valiant with wine, and furious from the bowl!
Thou fierce-look'd talker with a coward soul!
War's glorious peril ever slow to share:
Aloof thou view'st the field; for Death is there,
'Tis greater far this peaceful camp to sway,
And peel the Greeks, at will, who disobey:
A tyrant lord o'er slaves to earth debas'd;
For, had they souls, this outrage were thy last.
But, thou, my fix'd, my final purpose hear.
By this dread sceptre solemly I swear:
By this (which, once from out the forest torn,
No leaf nor shade shall ever more adorn;
Which never more its verdure must renew,
Lopp'd from the vital stem, whence first it grew:
But given by Jove the sons of men to awe,
Now sways the nations, and confirms the law)
A day shall come, when for this hour's disdain
The Greeks shall wish for me, and wish in vain;
Nor thou, though griev'd, the wanted aid afford,
When heaps on heaps shall fall by Hector's sword:
Too late with anguish shall thy heart be torn,
That the first Greek was made the public scorn.”
Thou fierce-look'd talker with a coward soul!
War's glorious peril ever slow to share:
Aloof thou view'st the field; for Death is there,
'Tis greater far this peaceful camp to sway,
And peel the Greeks, at will, who disobey:
A tyrant lord o'er slaves to earth debas'd;
For, had they souls, this outrage were thy last.
But, thou, my fix'd, my final purpose hear.
By this dread sceptre solemly I swear:
By this (which, once from out the forest torn,
No leaf nor shade shall ever more adorn;
Which never more its verdure must renew,
Lopp'd from the vital stem, whence first it grew:
But given by Jove the sons of men to awe,
Now sways the nations, and confirms the law)
A day shall come, when for this hour's disdain
The Greeks shall wish for me, and wish in vain;
Nor thou, though griev'd, the wanted aid afford,
When heaps on heaps shall fall by Hector's sword:
Too late with anguish shall thy heart be torn,
That the first Greek was made the public scorn.”
He said. And, mounting with a furious bound,
He dash'd his studded sceptre on the ground;
Then sat. Atrides, eager to reply,
On the fierce champion glanc'd a vengeful eye.
He dash'd his studded sceptre on the ground;
Then sat. Atrides, eager to reply,
On the fierce champion glanc'd a vengeful eye.
'Twas then, the madding monarchs to compose,
The Pylian prince, the smooth-speech'd Nestor rose.
His tongue dropp'd honey. Full of days was he;
Two ages past, he liv'd the third to see:
And, his first race of subjects long decay'd,
O'er their sons' sons a peaceful sceptre sway'd.
The Pylian prince, the smooth-speech'd Nestor rose.
His tongue dropp'd honey. Full of days was he;
Two ages past, he liv'd the third to see:
And, his first race of subjects long decay'd,
O'er their sons' sons a peaceful sceptre sway'd.
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“Alas for Greece!” he cries, “and with what joy
Shall Priam hear, and every son of Troy!
That you, the first in wisdom as in wars,
Waste your great souls in poor ignoble jars!
Go to! you both are young. Yet oft rever'd
Greater than you have the wise Nestor heard.
Their equals never shall these eyes behold:
Cæneus the just, Pirithous the bold,
Exadius, Dryas, born to high command,
Shepherds of men, and rulers of the land,
Theseus unrival'd in his sire's abodes,
And mighty Polypheme, a match for gods.
They, greatest names that ancient story knows,
In mortal conflict met as dreadful foes:
Fearless thro' rocks and wilds their prey pursued,
And the huge double Centaur race subdued.
With them my early youth was pleas'd to roam
Through regions, far from my sweet native home;
They call'd me to the wars. No living hand
Could match their valour, or their strength withstand;
Yet wont they oft my sage advice to hear.
Then listen both, with an attentive ear.
Seize not thou, king of men, the beauteous slave,
Th' allotted prize the Grecian voices gave.
Nor thou, Pelides, in a threatening tone
Urge him to wrath, who fills that sacred throne,
The king of forty kings, and honour'd more
By mighty Jove, than e'er was king before.
Brave though thou art, and of a race divine,
Thou must obey a power more great than thine.
And thou, O king, forbear. Myself will sue
Great Thetis' son his vengeance to subdue:
Great Thetis' valiant son, our country's boast,
The shield and bulwark of the Grecian host.”
Shall Priam hear, and every son of Troy!
That you, the first in wisdom as in wars,
Waste your great souls in poor ignoble jars!
Go to! you both are young. Yet oft rever'd
Greater than you have the wise Nestor heard.
Their equals never shall these eyes behold:
Cæneus the just, Pirithous the bold,
Exadius, Dryas, born to high command,
Shepherds of men, and rulers of the land,
Theseus unrival'd in his sire's abodes,
And mighty Polypheme, a match for gods.
They, greatest names that ancient story knows,
In mortal conflict met as dreadful foes:
Fearless thro' rocks and wilds their prey pursued,
And the huge double Centaur race subdued.
With them my early youth was pleas'd to roam
Through regions, far from my sweet native home;
They call'd me to the wars. No living hand
Could match their valour, or their strength withstand;
Yet wont they oft my sage advice to hear.
Then listen both, with an attentive ear.
Seize not thou, king of men, the beauteous slave,
Th' allotted prize the Grecian voices gave.
Nor thou, Pelides, in a threatening tone
Urge him to wrath, who fills that sacred throne,
The king of forty kings, and honour'd more
By mighty Jove, than e'er was king before.
Brave though thou art, and of a race divine,
Thou must obey a power more great than thine.
And thou, O king, forbear. Myself will sue
Great Thetis' son his vengeance to subdue:
Great Thetis' valiant son, our country's boast,
The shield and bulwark of the Grecian host.”
“Wise are thy words, O sire,” the king began,
“But what can satiate this aspiring man?
Unbounded power he claims o'er human-kind,
And hopes for slaves, I trust he ne'er shall find.
Shall we, because the gods have form'd him strong,
Bear the lewd language of his lawless tongue!”
“But what can satiate this aspiring man?
Unbounded power he claims o'er human-kind,
And hopes for slaves, I trust he ne'er shall find.
Shall we, because the gods have form'd him strong,
Bear the lewd language of his lawless tongue!”
“If aw'd by thee, the Greeks might well despise
My name,” the prince, precipitate, replies,
“In vain thou nodd'st from thy imperial throne.
Thy vassals seek elsewhere: for I am none.
But break we here. The fair, though justly mine,
With sword undrawn I purpose to resign.
On aught beside, I once for all command,
Lay not, I charge thee, thy presumptuous hand.
Come not within my reach, nor dare advance,
Or thy heart's blood shall reek upon my lance.”
My name,” the prince, precipitate, replies,
“In vain thou nodd'st from thy imperial throne.
Thy vassals seek elsewhere: for I am none.
But break we here. The fair, though justly mine,
With sword undrawn I purpose to resign.
On aught beside, I once for all command,
Lay not, I charge thee, thy presumptuous hand.
Come not within my reach, nor dare advance,
Or thy heart's blood shall reek upon my lance.”
Thus both in foul debate prolong'd the day.
The council broke, each takes his separate way.
Achilles seeks his tent with restless mind;
Patroclus and his train move slow behind.
The council broke, each takes his separate way.
Achilles seeks his tent with restless mind;
Patroclus and his train move slow behind.
Mean time, a bark was haul'd along the sand,
Twice ten selected Greeks, a brawny band,
Tug the tough oars, at the great king's command.
The gifts, the hecatomb, the captive fair,
Are all intrusted to Ulysses' care.
They mount the deck. The vessel takes its flight,
Bounds o'er the surge, and lessens to the sight.
Twice ten selected Greeks, a brawny band,
Tug the tough oars, at the great king's command.
The gifts, the hecatomb, the captive fair,
Are all intrusted to Ulysses' care.
They mount the deck. The vessel takes its flight,
Bounds o'er the surge, and lessens to the sight.
Next he ordains along the winding coast
By hallow'd rites to purify the host.
A herd of chosen victims they provide,
And cast their offals on the briny tide.
Fat bulls and goats to great Apollo die.
In clouds the savory steam ascends the sky.
By hallow'd rites to purify the host.
A herd of chosen victims they provide,
And cast their offals on the briny tide.
Fat bulls and goats to great Apollo die.
In clouds the savory steam ascends the sky.
The Greeks to Heaven their solemn vows addrest;
But dire revenge roll'd in the monarch's breast.
Obsequious at his call two heralds stand:
To them in frowns he gives this harsh command.
“Ye heralds, to Achilles' tent repair;
Thence swift the female slave Briseïs bear.
With arms, if disobey'd, myself will come.
Bid him resign her, or he tempts his doom.”
But dire revenge roll'd in the monarch's breast.
Obsequious at his call two heralds stand:
To them in frowns he gives this harsh command.
“Ye heralds, to Achilles' tent repair;
Thence swift the female slave Briseïs bear.
With arms, if disobey'd, myself will come.
Bid him resign her, or he tempts his doom.”
The heralds, though unwillingly, obey.
Along the sea-beat shore they speed their way:
And, now the Myrmidonian quarter past,
At his tent-door they find the hero plac'd.
Disturb'd the solemn messengers he saw:
They too stood silent, with respectful awe,
Before the royal youth, they neither spoke.
He guess'd their message, and the silence broke:
Along the sea-beat shore they speed their way:
And, now the Myrmidonian quarter past,
At his tent-door they find the hero plac'd.
Disturb'd the solemn messengers he saw:
They too stood silent, with respectful awe,
Before the royal youth, they neither spoke.
He guess'd their message, and the silence broke:
“Ye ministers of gods and men, draw near,
Not you, but him whose heralds ye appear,
Robb'd of my right I blame. Patroclus, bring
The damsel forth for this disdainful king.
But ye, my wrongs, O heralds, bear in mind,
And clear me to the gods and all mankind,
Ev'n to your thoughtless king; if ever more
My aid be wanted on the hostile shore.
Thoughtless he is, nor knows his certain doom,
Blind to the past, nor sees the woes to come,
His best defence thus rashly to forego,
And leave a naked army to the foe.”
Not you, but him whose heralds ye appear,
Robb'd of my right I blame. Patroclus, bring
The damsel forth for this disdainful king.
But ye, my wrongs, O heralds, bear in mind,
And clear me to the gods and all mankind,
Ev'n to your thoughtless king; if ever more
My aid be wanted on the hostile shore.
Thoughtless he is, nor knows his certain doom,
Blind to the past, nor sees the woes to come,
His best defence thus rashly to forego,
And leave a naked army to the foe.”
He ceas'd. Patroclus his dear friend obey'd,
And usher'd in the lovely weeping maid.
Sore sigh'd she, as the heralds took her hand,
And oft look'd back slow-moving o'er the strand.
And usher'd in the lovely weeping maid.
Sore sigh'd she, as the heralds took her hand,
And oft look'd back slow-moving o'er the strand.
The widow'd hero, when the fair was gone,
Far from his friends sat bath'd in tears alone.
On the cold beach he sat, and fix'd his eyes
Where black with storms the curling billows rise,
And as the sea wide-rolling he survey'd,
With out-stretch'd arms to his fond mother pray'd:
Far from his friends sat bath'd in tears alone.
On the cold beach he sat, and fix'd his eyes
Where black with storms the curling billows rise,
And as the sea wide-rolling he survey'd,
With out-stretch'd arms to his fond mother pray'd:
“Since to short life thy hapless son was born,
Great Jove stands bound by promise to adorn
His stinted course, with an immortal name.
Is this the great amends? the promis'd fame?
The son of Atreus, proud of lawless sway,
Demands, possesses, and enjoys my prey.”
Great Jove stands bound by promise to adorn
His stinted course, with an immortal name.
Is this the great amends? the promis'd fame?
The son of Atreus, proud of lawless sway,
Demands, possesses, and enjoys my prey.”
Near her old sire enthron'd, she heard him weep
From the low silent caverns of the deep:
Then in a morning mist her head she rears,
Sits by her son, and mingles tears with tears;
Close grasps her darling's hand. “My son,” she cries,
“Why heaves thy heart? and why o'erflow thy eyes?
Oh tell me, tell thy mother all thy care,
That both may know it, and that both may share.”
From the low silent caverns of the deep:
Then in a morning mist her head she rears,
Sits by her son, and mingles tears with tears;
Close grasps her darling's hand. “My son,” she cries,
“Why heaves thy heart? and why o'erflow thy eyes?
Oh tell me, tell thy mother all thy care,
That both may know it, and that both may share.”
“Oh! goddess!” cry'd he, with an inward groan,
“Thou know'st it all: to thee are all things known.
Eëtian Thebes we sack'd, their ransack'd towers,
The plunder of a people, all was ours.
We stood agreed the booty to divide.
Chryseïs rosy-cheek'd, and glossy-ey'd,
Fell to the king; but holy Chryses bore
Vast gifts of ransom, to the tented shore:
His sceptre stretching forth (the golden rod
Hung round with hallow'd garlands of his god)
Of all the host, of every princely chief,
But first of Atreus' sons, he begg'd relief.
Throughout the host consenting murmurs ran,
To yield her to the venerable man;
But the harsh king deny'd to do him right,
And drove the trembling prophet from his sight.
Apollo heard his injur'd suppliant's cry,
And dealt his arrows through th' infected sky;
The swift contagion, sent by his commands,
Swept thro' the camp, and thinn'd the Grecian bands.
The guilty cause a sacred augur show'd,
And I first mov'd to mitigate the god.
At this the tyrant storm'd, and vengeance vow'd;
And now too soon hath made his threatnings good.
Chryseïs first with gifts to Chrysa sent,
His heralds came this moment to my tent,
And bore Briseïs thence, my beauteous slave,
Th' allotted prize, which the leagu'd Grecians gave.
Thou goddess, then, and thou, I know, hast power,
For thine own son the might of Jove implore.
Oft in my father's house I've heard thee tell,
When sudden fears on Heaven's great monarch fell,
Thy aid the rebel deities o'ercame,
And sav'd the mighty Thunderer from shame.
Pallas, and Neptune, and great Juno, bound
The sire in chains, and hem'd their sovereign round.
Thy voice, O goddess, broke their idle bands,
And call'd the giant of the hundred hands,
The prodigy, whom Heaven and Earth revere,
Briareus nam'd above, Ægeon here.
His father Neptune he in strength surpass'd;
At Jove's right hand his hideous form he plac'd,
Proud of his might. The gods with secret dread,
Beheld the huge enormous shape and fled.
Remind him then: for well thou know'st the art:
Go, clasp his knees, and melt his mighty heart.
Let the driven Argians, hunted o'er the plain,
Seek the last verge of this tempestuous main:
There let them perish, void of all relief,
My wrongs remember, and enjoy their chief.
Too late with anguish shall his heart be torn,
That the first Greek was made the public scorn.”
“Thou know'st it all: to thee are all things known.
Eëtian Thebes we sack'd, their ransack'd towers,
The plunder of a people, all was ours.
We stood agreed the booty to divide.
Chryseïs rosy-cheek'd, and glossy-ey'd,
Fell to the king; but holy Chryses bore
Vast gifts of ransom, to the tented shore:
His sceptre stretching forth (the golden rod
Hung round with hallow'd garlands of his god)
Of all the host, of every princely chief,
But first of Atreus' sons, he begg'd relief.
Throughout the host consenting murmurs ran,
To yield her to the venerable man;
But the harsh king deny'd to do him right,
And drove the trembling prophet from his sight.
Apollo heard his injur'd suppliant's cry,
And dealt his arrows through th' infected sky;
120
Swept thro' the camp, and thinn'd the Grecian bands.
The guilty cause a sacred augur show'd,
And I first mov'd to mitigate the god.
At this the tyrant storm'd, and vengeance vow'd;
And now too soon hath made his threatnings good.
Chryseïs first with gifts to Chrysa sent,
His heralds came this moment to my tent,
And bore Briseïs thence, my beauteous slave,
Th' allotted prize, which the leagu'd Grecians gave.
Thou goddess, then, and thou, I know, hast power,
For thine own son the might of Jove implore.
Oft in my father's house I've heard thee tell,
When sudden fears on Heaven's great monarch fell,
Thy aid the rebel deities o'ercame,
And sav'd the mighty Thunderer from shame.
Pallas, and Neptune, and great Juno, bound
The sire in chains, and hem'd their sovereign round.
Thy voice, O goddess, broke their idle bands,
And call'd the giant of the hundred hands,
The prodigy, whom Heaven and Earth revere,
Briareus nam'd above, Ægeon here.
His father Neptune he in strength surpass'd;
At Jove's right hand his hideous form he plac'd,
Proud of his might. The gods with secret dread,
Beheld the huge enormous shape and fled.
Remind him then: for well thou know'st the art:
Go, clasp his knees, and melt his mighty heart.
Let the driven Argians, hunted o'er the plain,
Seek the last verge of this tempestuous main:
There let them perish, void of all relief,
My wrongs remember, and enjoy their chief.
Too late with anguish shall his heart be torn,
That the first Greek was made the public scorn.”
Then she (with tears her azure eyes ran o'er:)
“Why bore I thee! or nourish'd, when I bore!
Blest, if within thy tent, and free from strife,
Thou might'st possess thy poor remains of life.
Thy death approaching now the Fates foreshow;
Short is thy destin'd term, and full of woe.
Ill-fated thou! and oh unhappy I!
But hence to the celestial courts I fly,
Where, hid in snow, to Heaven Olympus swells,
And Jove, rejoicing in his thunder, dwells.
Mean time, my son, indulge thy just disdain:
Vent all thy rage, and shun the hostile plain,
Till Jove returns. Last night my waves he cross'd,
And sought the distant Ethiopian coast:
Along the skies his radiant course he steer'd,
Behind him all the train of gods appear'd,
A bright procession. To the holy feast
Of blameless men he goes a grateful guest.
To Heaven he comes, when twice six days are o'er!
Then shall his voice the sire of gods implore,
Then to my lofty mansion will I pass,
Founded on rocks of ever-during brass:
There will I clasp his knees with wonted art,
Nor doubt, my son, but I shall melt his heart.”
“Why bore I thee! or nourish'd, when I bore!
Blest, if within thy tent, and free from strife,
Thou might'st possess thy poor remains of life.
Thy death approaching now the Fates foreshow;
Short is thy destin'd term, and full of woe.
Ill-fated thou! and oh unhappy I!
But hence to the celestial courts I fly,
Where, hid in snow, to Heaven Olympus swells,
And Jove, rejoicing in his thunder, dwells.
Mean time, my son, indulge thy just disdain:
Vent all thy rage, and shun the hostile plain,
Till Jove returns. Last night my waves he cross'd,
And sought the distant Ethiopian coast:
Along the skies his radiant course he steer'd,
Behind him all the train of gods appear'd,
A bright procession. To the holy feast
Of blameless men he goes a grateful guest.
To Heaven he comes, when twice six days are o'er!
Then shall his voice the sire of gods implore,
Then to my lofty mansion will I pass,
Founded on rocks of ever-during brass:
There will I clasp his knees with wonted art,
Nor doubt, my son, but I shall melt his heart.”
She ceas'd: and left him lost in doubtful care,
And bent on vengeance for the ravish'd fair.
And bent on vengeance for the ravish'd fair.
But, safe arriv'd near Chrysa's sacred strand,
The sage Ulysses now advanc'd to land.
Along the coast he shoots with swelling gales,
Then lowers the lofty mast, and furls the sails;
Next plies to port with many a well-tim'd oar,
And drops his anchors near the faithful shore.
The bark now fix'd amidst the rolling tide,
Chryseïs follows her experienc'd guide:
The gifts to Phœbus from the Grecian host,
A herd of bulls went bellowing o'er the coast.
To the god's fane, high looking o'er the land.
He led, and near the altar took his stand,
Then gave her to the joyful father's hand.
The sage Ulysses now advanc'd to land.
Along the coast he shoots with swelling gales,
Then lowers the lofty mast, and furls the sails;
Next plies to port with many a well-tim'd oar,
And drops his anchors near the faithful shore.
The bark now fix'd amidst the rolling tide,
Chryseïs follows her experienc'd guide:
The gifts to Phœbus from the Grecian host,
A herd of bulls went bellowing o'er the coast.
To the god's fane, high looking o'er the land.
He led, and near the altar took his stand,
Then gave her to the joyful father's hand.
“All hail! Atrides sets thy daughter free,
Sends offerings to thy god, and gifts to thee
But thou entreat the power, whose dreadful sway
Afflicts his camp, and sweeps his host away.”
Sends offerings to thy god, and gifts to thee
But thou entreat the power, whose dreadful sway
Afflicts his camp, and sweeps his host away.”
He said, and gave her. The fond father smil'd
With secret rapture, and embrac'd his child.
With secret rapture, and embrac'd his child.
The victims now they range in chosen bands,
And offer gifts with unpolluted hands:
When with loud voice, and arms up-rear'd in air,
The hoary priest preferr'd this powerful prayer:
And offer gifts with unpolluted hands:
When with loud voice, and arms up-rear'd in air,
The hoary priest preferr'd this powerful prayer:
“Dread warrior with the silver bow, give ear,
Patron of Chrysa and of Cilla, hear.
About this dome thou walk'st thy constant round:
Still have my vows thy power propitious found.
Rous'd by my prayers ev'n now thy vengeance burns,
And smit by thee, the Grecian army mourns.
Hear me once more; and let the suppliant foe
Avert thy wrath, and slack thy dreadful bow.”
Patron of Chrysa and of Cilla, hear.
About this dome thou walk'st thy constant round:
Still have my vows thy power propitious found.
Rous'd by my prayers ev'n now thy vengeance burns,
And smit by thee, the Grecian army mourns.
Hear me once more; and let the suppliant foe
Avert thy wrath, and slack thy dreadful bow.”
He pray'd; and great Apollo heard his prayer.
The suppliants now their votive rites prepare:
Amidst the flames they cast the hallow'd bread,
And heaven-ward turn each victim's destin'd head:
Next slay the fatted bulls, their skins divide,
And from each carcase rend the smoking hide;
On every limb large rolls of fat bestow,
And chosen morsels round the offerings strow:
Mysterious rites. Then on the fire divine
The great high priest pours forth the ruddy wine;
Himself the offering burns. On either hand
A troop of youths, in decent order, stand.
On sharpen'd forks, obedient to the sire,
They turn the tasteful fragments in the fire,
Adorn the feast, see every dish well-stor'd,
And serve the plenteous messes to the board.
The suppliants now their votive rites prepare:
Amidst the flames they cast the hallow'd bread,
And heaven-ward turn each victim's destin'd head:
Next slay the fatted bulls, their skins divide,
And from each carcase rend the smoking hide;
On every limb large rolls of fat bestow,
And chosen morsels round the offerings strow:
Mysterious rites. Then on the fire divine
The great high priest pours forth the ruddy wine;
Himself the offering burns. On either hand
A troop of youths, in decent order, stand.
On sharpen'd forks, obedient to the sire,
They turn the tasteful fragments in the fire,
Adorn the feast, see every dish well-stor'd,
And serve the plenteous messes to the board.
When now the various feasts had chear'd their souls,
With sparkling wines they crown the generous bowls,
The first libations to Apollo pay,
And solemnize with sacred hymns the day:
His praise in Iö Pæans loud they sing,
And sooth the rage of the far-shooting king.
At evening, through the shore dispers'd, they sleep,
Hush'd by the distant roarings of the deep.
With sparkling wines they crown the generous bowls,
The first libations to Apollo pay,
And solemnize with sacred hymns the day:
His praise in Iö Pæans loud they sing,
And sooth the rage of the far-shooting king.
At evening, through the shore dispers'd, they sleep,
Hush'd by the distant roarings of the deep.
When now, ascending from the shades of night,
Aurora glow'd in all her rosy light,
The daughter of the dawn: th' awaken'd crew
Back to the Greeks encamp'd their course renew.
The breezes freshen: for with friendly gales
Apollo swell'd their wide, distended, sails:
Cleft by the rapid prow, the waves divide,
And in hoarse murmurs break on either side,
In safety to the destined port they pass'd,
And fix their bark with grappling haulsers fast;
Then dragg'd her farther, on the dry-land coast,
Regain'd their tents, and mingled in the host.
Aurora glow'd in all her rosy light,
The daughter of the dawn: th' awaken'd crew
Back to the Greeks encamp'd their course renew.
The breezes freshen: for with friendly gales
Apollo swell'd their wide, distended, sails:
Cleft by the rapid prow, the waves divide,
And in hoarse murmurs break on either side,
In safety to the destined port they pass'd,
And fix their bark with grappling haulsers fast;
Then dragg'd her farther, on the dry-land coast,
Regain'd their tents, and mingled in the host.
But fierce Achilles, still on vengeance bent,
Cherish'd his wrath, and madden'd in his tent.
Th' assembled chiefs he shunn'd with high disdain,
A band of kings: nor sought the hostile plain;
But long'd to hear the distant troops engage
The strife grow doubtful, and the battle rage.
Cherish'd his wrath, and madden'd in his tent.
Th' assembled chiefs he shunn'd with high disdain,
A band of kings: nor sought the hostile plain;
But long'd to hear the distant troops engage
The strife grow doubtful, and the battle rage.
Twelve days were past; and now th' etherial train,
Jove at their head, to Heaven return'd again:
When Thetis, from the deep prepar'd to rise,
Shot through a big-swoln wave, and pierc'd the skies.
At early morn she reach'd the realms above,
The court of gods, the residence of Jove.
Jove at their head, to Heaven return'd again:
When Thetis, from the deep prepar'd to rise,
Shot through a big-swoln wave, and pierc'd the skies.
121
The court of gods, the residence of Jove.
On the top-point of high Olympus, crown'd
With hills on hills, him far apart she found,
Above the rest. The Earth beneath display'd
(A boundless prospect) his broad eye survey'd.
Her left hand grasp'd his knees, her right she rear'd,
And touch'd with blandishment his awful beard;
Then, suppliant, with submissive voice implor'd
Old Saturn's son, the god by gods ador'd:
With hills on hills, him far apart she found,
Above the rest. The Earth beneath display'd
(A boundless prospect) his broad eye survey'd.
Her left hand grasp'd his knees, her right she rear'd,
And touch'd with blandishment his awful beard;
Then, suppliant, with submissive voice implor'd
Old Saturn's son, the god by gods ador'd:
“If e'er, by rebel deities opprest,
My aid reliev'd thee, grant this one request.
Since to short life my hapless son was born,
Do thou with fame the scanty space adorn.
Punish the king of men, whose lawless sway
Hath sham'd the youth, and seiz'd his destin'd prey.
Awhile let Troy prevail, that Greece may grieve,
And doubled honours to my offspring give.”
My aid reliev'd thee, grant this one request.
Since to short life my hapless son was born,
Do thou with fame the scanty space adorn.
Punish the king of men, whose lawless sway
Hath sham'd the youth, and seiz'd his destin'd prey.
Awhile let Troy prevail, that Greece may grieve,
And doubled honours to my offspring give.”
She said. The god vouchsaf'd not to reply
(A deep suspense sat in his thoughtful eye):
Once more around his knees the goddess clung,
And to soft accents form'd her artful tongue:
(A deep suspense sat in his thoughtful eye):
Once more around his knees the goddess clung,
And to soft accents form'd her artful tongue:
“Oh speak. Or grant me, or deny my prayer.
Fear not to speak, what I am doom'd to bear;
That I may know, if thou my prayer deny,
The most despis'd of all the gods am I.”
Fear not to speak, what I am doom'd to bear;
That I may know, if thou my prayer deny,
The most despis'd of all the gods am I.”
With a deep sigh the Thundering Power replies:
To what a height will Juno's anger rise!
Still doth her voice before the gods upbraid
My partial hand, that gives the Trojans aid.
I grant thy suit. But, hence! depart unseen,
And shun the sight of Heaven's suspicious queen.
Believe my nod, the great, the certain sign,
When Jove propitious hears the powers divine;
The sign that ratifies my high command,
That thus I will: and what I will shall stand.”
To what a height will Juno's anger rise!
Still doth her voice before the gods upbraid
My partial hand, that gives the Trojans aid.
I grant thy suit. But, hence! depart unseen,
And shun the sight of Heaven's suspicious queen.
Believe my nod, the great, the certain sign,
When Jove propitious hears the powers divine;
The sign that ratifies my high command,
That thus I will: and what I will shall stand.”
This said, his kingly brow the sire inclin'd;
The large black curls fell awful from behind,
Thick shadowing the stern forehead of the god:
Olympus trembled at th' almighty nod.
The large black curls fell awful from behind,
Thick shadowing the stern forehead of the god:
Olympus trembled at th' almighty nod.
The goddess smil'd: and, with a sudden leap,
From the high mountain plung'd into the deep.
From the high mountain plung'd into the deep.
But Jove repair'd to his celestial towers:
And, as he rose, up-rose the immortal powers.
In ranks, on either side, th' assembly cast,
Bow'd down, and did obeisance as he pass'd.
And, as he rose, up-rose the immortal powers.
In ranks, on either side, th' assembly cast,
Bow'd down, and did obeisance as he pass'd.
To him enthron'd (for whispering she had seen
Close at his knees the silver-footed queen,
Daughter of him, who, low beneath the tides,
Aged and hoary in the deep resides)
Big with invectives, Juno silence broke,
And thus, opprobious her resentments spoke:
Close at his knees the silver-footed queen,
Daughter of him, who, low beneath the tides,
Aged and hoary in the deep resides)
Big with invectives, Juno silence broke,
And thus, opprobious her resentments spoke:
“False Jove! what goddess whispering did I see?
O fond of counsels, still conceal'd from me!
To me neglected, thou wilt ne'er impart
One single thought of thy close-cover'd heart.”
O fond of counsels, still conceal'd from me!
To me neglected, thou wilt ne'er impart
One single thought of thy close-cover'd heart.”
To whom the sire of gods and men reply'd;
“Strive not to find, what I decree to hide.
Laborious were the search, and vain the strife,
Vain ev'n for thee, my sister and my wife.
The thoughts and counsels proper to declare,
Nor god nor mortal shall before thee share:
But, what my secret wisdom shall ordain,
Think not to reach, for know the thought were vain.”
“Strive not to find, what I decree to hide.
Laborious were the search, and vain the strife,
Vain ev'n for thee, my sister and my wife.
The thoughts and counsels proper to declare,
Nor god nor mortal shall before thee share:
But, what my secret wisdom shall ordain,
Think not to reach, for know the thought were vain.”
“Dread Saturn's son, why so severe?” replies
The goddess of the large majestic eyes.
“Thy own dark thoughts at pleasure hide, or show;
Ne'er have I ask'd, nor now aspire to know.
Nor yet my fears are vain, nor came unseen
To thy high throne, the silver-footed queen,
Daughter of him, who low beneath the tides
Aged and hoary in the deep resides.
Thy nod assures me she was not deny'd:
And Greece must perish for a madman's pride.”
The goddess of the large majestic eyes.
“Thy own dark thoughts at pleasure hide, or show;
Ne'er have I ask'd, nor now aspire to know.
Nor yet my fears are vain, nor came unseen
To thy high throne, the silver-footed queen,
Daughter of him, who low beneath the tides
Aged and hoary in the deep resides.
Thy nod assures me she was not deny'd:
And Greece must perish for a madman's pride.”
To whom the god, whose hand the tempest forms,
Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens Heaven with storms,
Thus wrathful answer'd: “Dost thou still complain?
Perplex'd for ever, and perplex'd in vain!
Should'st thou disclose the dark event to come!
How wilt thou stop the irrevocable doom!
This serves the more to sharpen my disdain;
And woes foreseen but lengthen out thy pain.
Be silent then. Dispute not my command;
Nor tempt the force of this superior hand:
Lest all the gods, around thee leagu'd, engage
In vain to shield thee from my kindled rage.”
Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens Heaven with storms,
Thus wrathful answer'd: “Dost thou still complain?
Perplex'd for ever, and perplex'd in vain!
Should'st thou disclose the dark event to come!
How wilt thou stop the irrevocable doom!
This serves the more to sharpen my disdain;
And woes foreseen but lengthen out thy pain.
Be silent then. Dispute not my command;
Nor tempt the force of this superior hand:
Lest all the gods, around thee leagu'd, engage
In vain to shield thee from my kindled rage.”
Mute and abash'd she sat without reply,
And downward turn'd her large majestic eye,
Nor further durst the offended sire provoke:
The gods around him trembled, as he spoke.
When Vulcan, for his mother sore distress'd,
Turn'd orator, and thus his speech addrest;
And downward turn'd her large majestic eye,
Nor further durst the offended sire provoke:
The gods around him trembled, as he spoke.
When Vulcan, for his mother sore distress'd,
Turn'd orator, and thus his speech addrest;
“Hard is our fate, if men of mortal line
Stir up debate among the powers divine,
If things on Earth disturb the blest abodes,
And mar th' ambrosial banquet of the gods!
Then let my mother once be rul'd by me,
Though much more wise than I pretend to be:
Let me advise her silent to obey,
And due submission to our father pay.
Nor force again his gloomy rage to rise,
Ill-tim'd, and damp the revels of the skies.
For should he toss her from th' Olympian hill,
Who could resist the mighty monarch's will?
Then thou to love the Thunderer reconcile,
And tempt him kindly on us all to smile,”
Stir up debate among the powers divine,
If things on Earth disturb the blest abodes,
And mar th' ambrosial banquet of the gods!
Then let my mother once be rul'd by me,
Though much more wise than I pretend to be:
Let me advise her silent to obey,
And due submission to our father pay.
Nor force again his gloomy rage to rise,
Ill-tim'd, and damp the revels of the skies.
For should he toss her from th' Olympian hill,
Who could resist the mighty monarch's will?
Then thou to love the Thunderer reconcile,
And tempt him kindly on us all to smile,”
He said: and in his tottering hands up-bore
A double goblet, fill'd, and foaming o'er.
A double goblet, fill'd, and foaming o'er.
“Sit down, dear mother, with a heart content,
Nor urge a more disgraceful punishment,
Which if great Jove inflict, poor I, dismay'd,
Must stand aloof, nor dare to give thee aid.
Great Jove shall reign for ever, uncontrol'd:
Remember, when I took thy part of old,
Caught by the heel he swung me round on high,
And headlong hurl'd me from th' ethereal sky:
From morn to noon I fell, from noon to night;
Till pitch'd on Lemnos, a most piteous sight,
The Sintians hardly could my breath recall,
Giddy and gasping with the dreadful fall.”
Nor urge a more disgraceful punishment,
Which if great Jove inflict, poor I, dismay'd,
Must stand aloof, nor dare to give thee aid.
Great Jove shall reign for ever, uncontrol'd:
Remember, when I took thy part of old,
Caught by the heel he swung me round on high,
And headlong hurl'd me from th' ethereal sky:
From morn to noon I fell, from noon to night;
Till pitch'd on Lemnos, a most piteous sight,
The Sintians hardly could my breath recall,
Giddy and gasping with the dreadful fall.”
She smil'd: and, smiling, her white arm display'd
To reach the bowl her aukward son convey'd.
From right to left the generous bowl he crown'd,
And dealt the rosy nectar fairly round.
The gods laugh'd out, unweary'd, as they spy'd
The busy skinker hop from side to side.
To reach the bowl her aukward son convey'd.
From right to left the generous bowl he crown'd,
And dealt the rosy nectar fairly round.
The gods laugh'd out, unweary'd, as they spy'd
The busy skinker hop from side to side.
Thus, feasting to the full, they pass'd away,
In blisful banquets, all the live-long day.
Nor wanted melody. With heavenly art
The Muses sung; each Muse perform'd her part,
Alternate warbling; while the golden lyre,
Touch'd by Apollo, led the vocal choir.
The Sun at length declin'd, when every guest
Sought his bright palace, and withdrew to rest;
Each had his palace on th' Olympian hill,
A master-piece of Vulcan's matchless skill.
Ev'n he, the god, who Heaven's great sceptre sways,
And frowns amid the lightning's dreadful blaze,
His bed of state ascending, lay compos'd;
His eyes a sweet refreshing slumber clos'd:
And at his side, all glorious to behold,
Was Juno lodg'd in her alcove of gold.
In blisful banquets, all the live-long day.
Nor wanted melody. With heavenly art
The Muses sung; each Muse perform'd her part,
Alternate warbling; while the golden lyre,
Touch'd by Apollo, led the vocal choir.
The Sun at length declin'd, when every guest
Sought his bright palace, and withdrew to rest;
Each had his palace on th' Olympian hill,
A master-piece of Vulcan's matchless skill.
122
And frowns amid the lightning's dreadful blaze,
His bed of state ascending, lay compos'd;
His eyes a sweet refreshing slumber clos'd:
And at his side, all glorious to behold,
Was Juno lodg'd in her alcove of gold.
| Poems (1810) | |