The Works of Tibullus Containing his Love-Elegies. Translated by Mr Dart. To which is added, The Life of the Author; with Observations on the Original Design of Elegiack Verse; and the Characters of the most Celebrated Greek, Latin and English Elegiack Poets |
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 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. | ELEGY IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| IV. |
 | The Works of Tibullus |  |
ELEGY IV.
May Heaven send better Visions to my View,
And grant those hateful Dreams may not be true,
Which did last Night my troubled Thoughts molest,
Disturb'd my Mind, and broke my quiet Rest:
Hence ye delusive Visions, far away,
No more ye vain fantastick Spectres play.
Think not that I can any Credence give,
Or in such idle Fancies place Belief.
Important Truths the Oracles declare,
And Truth attends the Auruspices' Care:
But Dreams fallacious fill the dreary Night,
And scare the tim'rous Mind with vain Affright.
And Men left these their quiet Slumbers break,
Make Off'rings of the Salt and Barley Cake.
But whether 'tis for our own good design'd,
Or whether to confuse the doubtful Mind:
The Fears which threaten me I think are vain,
If no ill Acts my guiltless Mind distain,
Nor impious Words have 'scap'd my Tongue prophane.
And grant those hateful Dreams may not be true,
Which did last Night my troubled Thoughts molest,
Disturb'd my Mind, and broke my quiet Rest:
Hence ye delusive Visions, far away,
No more ye vain fantastick Spectres play.
Think not that I can any Credence give,
Or in such idle Fancies place Belief.
Important Truths the Oracles declare,
And Truth attends the Auruspices' Care:
But Dreams fallacious fill the dreary Night,
And scare the tim'rous Mind with vain Affright.
186
Make Off'rings of the Salt and Barley Cake.
But whether 'tis for our own good design'd,
Or whether to confuse the doubtful Mind:
The Fears which threaten me I think are vain,
If no ill Acts my guiltless Mind distain,
Nor impious Words have 'scap'd my Tongue prophane.
Night with her Ebon Wheels had left the Sky,
To wash her Chariot in the Azure Sea;
When yet no Sleep my weary Eye-lids clos'd,
No soothing Sleep my troubled Soul compos'd.
At length when Phœbus rose to view the East,
Slow Sleep inclin'd my weary Eyes to rest.
When, lo! a Youth appear'd before my Bed,
His lovely Temples with chast Laurel spread:
No Youth so lovely grac'd the Times that were,
Nor present Days behold a Face so fair:
His Length of Hair in lovely Ringlets flew,
With Odours sweet, and of an Amber Hue;
His Body fair, as Cynthia Silver bright,
And purple Blushes grac'd the snowy White:
Such glowing Blushes stain the modest Maid,
When to the eager am'rous Youth convey'd,
And the new Pleasures of the Bridal Bed.
Such blended Beauties Girls in Garlands bind
With Flow'rs of diff'rent Hues together twin'd,
Twisting the Lilly pale with snowy Head,
And scarlet Amaranthus glowing Red;
A Hue like this, when ting'd by Autumn's Pride,
Reddens the Apple on the sunny Side.
About his Feet a Palla graceful flow'd,
For such a Vestment did his Body shroud.
A sounding Lyre design'd by curious Art,
And labour'd o'er with Skill was every Part;
With Pearls, and shining Gold diversify'd,
The curious Piece hung careless at his Side.
With Iv'ry Bow he wakes the trembling Strings,
And tunes his Voice, and thus melodious sings;
His flying Fingers stop the Notes around,
And these sad Words he sung with sweetest Sound.
To wash her Chariot in the Azure Sea;
When yet no Sleep my weary Eye-lids clos'd,
No soothing Sleep my troubled Soul compos'd.
At length when Phœbus rose to view the East,
Slow Sleep inclin'd my weary Eyes to rest.
When, lo! a Youth appear'd before my Bed,
His lovely Temples with chast Laurel spread:
No Youth so lovely grac'd the Times that were,
Nor present Days behold a Face so fair:
187
With Odours sweet, and of an Amber Hue;
His Body fair, as Cynthia Silver bright,
And purple Blushes grac'd the snowy White:
Such glowing Blushes stain the modest Maid,
When to the eager am'rous Youth convey'd,
And the new Pleasures of the Bridal Bed.
Such blended Beauties Girls in Garlands bind
With Flow'rs of diff'rent Hues together twin'd,
Twisting the Lilly pale with snowy Head,
And scarlet Amaranthus glowing Red;
A Hue like this, when ting'd by Autumn's Pride,
Reddens the Apple on the sunny Side.
About his Feet a Palla graceful flow'd,
For such a Vestment did his Body shroud.
A sounding Lyre design'd by curious Art,
And labour'd o'er with Skill was every Part;
With Pearls, and shining Gold diversify'd,
The curious Piece hung careless at his Side.
188
And tunes his Voice, and thus melodious sings;
His flying Fingers stop the Notes around,
And these sad Words he sung with sweetest Sound.
Hail! Care of God, for by a Rite divine,
The Gods assist the Bard in each Design.
Phœbus and Bacchus, and the sacred Nine.
But neither Bacchus, nor the learned Throng,
Can speak what Fate, next Hour, will bring along.
To me, alone the Laws of future Doom
Jove gave, and View of Ages yet to come:
Then take these Warnings which a God reveals;
Believe a God, and hear what Cynthius tells.
She who was always thy peculiar Care,
Then whom not Daughters, Mothers held so dear:
Not with such Passion eagerest Youths are mov'd,
Nor with such Passion tenderest Maids belov'd;
For whom you weary all the Gods with Pray'r.
And every Day is spent in Fear for her:
And when still Sleep his Sable Mantle throws,
To veil your Eyes, and urge a still Repose.
She in your Sleep arises to your Sight,
And fills with vain fantastick Dreams, the Night.
That she who in thy Verse is made divine,
Neæra nam'd in every sounding Line:
That celebrated she, with all her Charms,
Begins to languish for another's Arms.
Thy former Passion to her Mind is lost,
That Mind is now with different Passions tost;
She fir'd with other Flames, about does rove,
Detests her quiet House, and seeks another Love.
Ah! cruel Sex, a Name to Faith unknown,
May they be curs'd who any have undone.
But she may change, the Sex for Change is fam'd,
By Faith and stretch'd out Arms she'll be reclaim'd;
For cruel Love instructs us to sustain
Vast Toils, and slight the Labour and the Pain.
He! cruel Love, directs us by his Care,
His Lash, and smarting Scourge content to bear.
There's more than Fiction in the Tale you've heard
Of me, how once I kept Admetus' Herd.
My Vocal Shell could then no Pleasure bring,
Nor sang I measure to the sounding String;
But with an Oaten Pipe was wont to rove,
Ev'n I, Latona's Son, and Progeny of Jove.
Fond Youth! you know not Love if e'er you fear
A Mistress' Frowns, and heavy Yoak to bear.
Nor doubt that tender Blandishments will fail.
O'er steely Breasts, oft soothing Prayers prevail.
What others do from Oracles believe,
Do thou more sure from my own Lips receive;
For Delius says, Neæra will be kind,
Nor more with various Passions change her Mind
For different Men: When this the God had said
I 'woke, and from my Eyes the Slumbers fled.
The Gods assist the Bard in each Design.
Phœbus and Bacchus, and the sacred Nine.
But neither Bacchus, nor the learned Throng,
Can speak what Fate, next Hour, will bring along.
To me, alone the Laws of future Doom
Jove gave, and View of Ages yet to come:
Then take these Warnings which a God reveals;
Believe a God, and hear what Cynthius tells.
She who was always thy peculiar Care,
Then whom not Daughters, Mothers held so dear:
Not with such Passion eagerest Youths are mov'd,
Nor with such Passion tenderest Maids belov'd;
For whom you weary all the Gods with Pray'r.
And every Day is spent in Fear for her:
189
To veil your Eyes, and urge a still Repose.
She in your Sleep arises to your Sight,
And fills with vain fantastick Dreams, the Night.
That she who in thy Verse is made divine,
Neæra nam'd in every sounding Line:
That celebrated she, with all her Charms,
Begins to languish for another's Arms.
Thy former Passion to her Mind is lost,
That Mind is now with different Passions tost;
She fir'd with other Flames, about does rove,
Detests her quiet House, and seeks another Love.
Ah! cruel Sex, a Name to Faith unknown,
May they be curs'd who any have undone.
But she may change, the Sex for Change is fam'd,
By Faith and stretch'd out Arms she'll be reclaim'd;
For cruel Love instructs us to sustain
Vast Toils, and slight the Labour and the Pain.
He! cruel Love, directs us by his Care,
His Lash, and smarting Scourge content to bear.
190
Of me, how once I kept Admetus' Herd.
My Vocal Shell could then no Pleasure bring,
Nor sang I measure to the sounding String;
But with an Oaten Pipe was wont to rove,
Ev'n I, Latona's Son, and Progeny of Jove.
Fond Youth! you know not Love if e'er you fear
A Mistress' Frowns, and heavy Yoak to bear.
Nor doubt that tender Blandishments will fail.
O'er steely Breasts, oft soothing Prayers prevail.
What others do from Oracles believe,
Do thou more sure from my own Lips receive;
For Delius says, Neæra will be kind,
Nor more with various Passions change her Mind
For different Men: When this the God had said
I 'woke, and from my Eyes the Slumbers fled.
Ah! little did I dream of such a Time,
Or think that Breast could harbour such a Crime;
For thou'rt descended of a humane Birth,
No rapid Pontick Ocean brought thee forth;
No fierce Chimæra breathing fiery Death,
No Hellish Cerberus with triple Breath:
Nor did'st from Scylla barking Womb proceed
With Dogs enclos'd, nor from the Lyon's Breed:
Nor was thy Birth on barbarous Scythias Land,
Nor on the dangerous Shoals of Africk's Sand.
But of a Noble House, and lovely Pair,
Thy Father gen'rous, and thy Mother fair.
With Dreams like these may Phœbus fill my Mind
No more, but throw the Visions in the Wind.
Or think that Breast could harbour such a Crime;
191
No rapid Pontick Ocean brought thee forth;
No fierce Chimæra breathing fiery Death,
No Hellish Cerberus with triple Breath:
Nor did'st from Scylla barking Womb proceed
With Dogs enclos'd, nor from the Lyon's Breed:
Nor was thy Birth on barbarous Scythias Land,
Nor on the dangerous Shoals of Africk's Sand.
But of a Noble House, and lovely Pair,
Thy Father gen'rous, and thy Mother fair.
With Dreams like these may Phœbus fill my Mind
No more, but throw the Visions in the Wind.
| The Works of Tibullus | |