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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Fame.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
335
Fame.
Fame, direful Pest! in Speed outstrip'd by none:
That flying grows, and Strength by Motion gains.
Tim'rous at first she is, and small thro' Fear,
But, by Degrees grown bold, herself in Air
Sublime she rears, and walking on the Ground,
Conceals her tow'ring Head among the Clouds.
Her, the last Sister to Enceladus,
And Cæus, as 'tis said, the Parent Earth,
Provok'd by Anger of the Gods, brought forth:
Swift with her Feet, and never-weary'd Wings.
A Monster hideous, vast!—As many Plumes
As in her Body stick, so many Eyes
For ever waking, (wondrous to relate!)
There grow beneath: as many babling Tongues,
And list'ning Ears as many.—By Night she flies,
Noisy, thro' Shades obscure, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n:
Nor are her Eyes by pleasing Slumber clos'd.
Watchful, and prying round, by Day, she sits
On some high Palace Top, or lofty Tow'r,
And mighty Towns alarms: not less intent
On spreading Falshood, than reporting Truth.—
That flying grows, and Strength by Motion gains.
Tim'rous at first she is, and small thro' Fear,
But, by Degrees grown bold, herself in Air
Sublime she rears, and walking on the Ground,
Conceals her tow'ring Head among the Clouds.
Her, the last Sister to Enceladus,
And Cæus, as 'tis said, the Parent Earth,
Provok'd by Anger of the Gods, brought forth:
Swift with her Feet, and never-weary'd Wings.
A Monster hideous, vast!—As many Plumes
As in her Body stick, so many Eyes
For ever waking, (wondrous to relate!)
There grow beneath: as many babling Tongues,
And list'ning Ears as many.—By Night she flies,
Noisy, thro' Shades obscure, 'twixt Earth and Heav'n:
Nor are her Eyes by pleasing Slumber clos'd.
Watchful, and prying round, by Day, she sits
On some high Palace Top, or lofty Tow'r,
And mighty Towns alarms: not less intent
On spreading Falshood, than reporting Truth.—
Amidst the World, between Earth, Air, and Sea,
A Place there is, the Confine of all three:
Hence Things, how e'er remote, are view'd around;
Here ev'ry Voice is heard, and ev'ry Sound.
FAME's Palace on the Summit stands on high,
And Ways thereto innumerable lye;
A thousand Entrances on every Side,
All without Gates, are ever open wide.
Built all of Brass, the ringing Walls resound,
And Tales repeated eccho all around.
No Rest within, no Silence, yet the Noise
Not loud, but like the Whispers of a Voice:
Such as from far by rolling Billows sent,
Or as Jove's fainting Thunder almost spent.
Hither in Crowds the Vulgar come and go,
Millions of Rumours here fly to and fro:
Lies mixt with Truth, Reports that vary still,
The itching Ears of Folks unguarded fill.
They tell the Tale, the Tale in telling grows,
And each Relater adds to what he knows.
Rash Error, light Credulity are here,
And causeless Transport, and ill-grounded Fear;
New rais'd Sedition, secret Whispers blown
By nameless Authors, and of Things unknown.
FAME, all that's done in Heav'n, Earth, Ocean, views,
And o'er the World still hunts around for News.—
A Place there is, the Confine of all three:
Hence Things, how e'er remote, are view'd around;
Here ev'ry Voice is heard, and ev'ry Sound.
FAME's Palace on the Summit stands on high,
And Ways thereto innumerable lye;
A thousand Entrances on every Side,
All without Gates, are ever open wide.
Built all of Brass, the ringing Walls resound,
And Tales repeated eccho all around.
No Rest within, no Silence, yet the Noise
Not loud, but like the Whispers of a Voice:
Such as from far by rolling Billows sent,
Or as Jove's fainting Thunder almost spent.
337
Millions of Rumours here fly to and fro:
Lies mixt with Truth, Reports that vary still,
The itching Ears of Folks unguarded fill.
They tell the Tale, the Tale in telling grows,
And each Relater adds to what he knows.
Rash Error, light Credulity are here,
And causeless Transport, and ill-grounded Fear;
New rais'd Sedition, secret Whispers blown
By nameless Authors, and of Things unknown.
FAME, all that's done in Heav'n, Earth, Ocean, views,
And o'er the World still hunts around for News.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |