Poems on Several Occasions By Edward, Lord Thurlow. The Second Edition, considerably enlarged |
 |
|
|
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 6. |
| 8. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| 23. |
| 24. |
| 25. |
| 26. |
| 27. |
| 28. |
| 30. |
| 31. |
| 33. |
| 35. |
| 36. |
| 37. |
| 38. | 38. THE PRAISE OF PINDAR, AND THEN OF AUGUSTUS:
|
| 40. |
| 41. |
| 42. |
| 43. |
| 44. |
| 45. |
| 46. |
| 47. |
| 48. |
| 58. |
| 59. |
| 61. |
| 62. |
 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
181
38. THE PRAISE OF PINDAR, AND THEN OF AUGUSTUS:
TRANSLATED FROM HORACE.
Who thinks to soar to Pindar's height,
And play in Glory's sacred flame,
Like Icarus, but wings his flight,
To give the shining sea a name!
And play in Glory's sacred flame,
Like Icarus, but wings his flight,
To give the shining sea a name!
As streams, by mighty tempests swoln,
Deep from the mountains pour along,
So Pindar burns, and rushes down
With vast unnavigable Song:
Deep from the mountains pour along,
So Pindar burns, and rushes down
With vast unnavigable Song:
182
Whether his Dithyrambiques roll
In tides, that he alone can reach,
Brave numbers, that disdain controul,
And untaught majesty of speech:
In tides, that he alone can reach,
Brave numbers, that disdain controul,
And untaught majesty of speech:
Whether to Gods, or Kings he wake,
The blood of Gods, his sacred shell,
Who with just death did overtake
The Centaurs, and Chimæra quell:
The blood of Gods, his sacred shell,
Who with just death did overtake
The Centaurs, and Chimæra quell:
Whether from Elis home he lead
Those, whom the palm to Heav'n doth raise,
Or give the wrestler, or the steed
More, than a thousand statues, praise:
Those, whom the palm to Heav'n doth raise,
Or give the wrestler, or the steed
More, than a thousand statues, praise:
Or softly mourn th' ill-fated youth
To his sad bride, in songs, that save
His golden manners, spotless truth,
And valour from th' unpitying grave:
To his sad bride, in songs, that save
His golden manners, spotless truth,
And valour from th' unpitying grave:
183
Exalted gales, Antonius, bear
The Theban Swan, whene'er his flight
Soars in the cloudy deep of air:
But I with feeble wing, and light,
The Theban Swan, whene'er his flight
Soars in the cloudy deep of air:
But I with feeble wing, and light,
As bees, that gather the sweet thyme,
Moist Tiber's banks, and groves among,
Unfit to those great heights to climb,
But murmur in laborious song.
Moist Tiber's banks, and groves among,
Unfit to those great heights to climb,
But murmur in laborious song.
The praise of Cæsar, conqu'ring chief,
Shall ask thy deep, thy sounding quill,
When comely with the well-earn'd leaf,
He rides along the sacred hill:
Shall ask thy deep, thy sounding quill,
When comely with the well-earn'd leaf,
He rides along the sacred hill:
Than whom a gift, more great or good,
The Gods have not bestow'd on men;
Nor shall, though, in Time's upward flood,
The golden Seasons smile again!
The Gods have not bestow'd on men;
Nor shall, though, in Time's upward flood,
The golden Seasons smile again!
184
The festal days thou shalt recite,
The publick games, and peaceful bar,
Since Heav'n, indulgent, to our sight,
Restores Augustus from the War.
The publick games, and peaceful bar,
Since Heav'n, indulgent, to our sight,
Restores Augustus from the War.
Then will I sing, if voice of mine
May aid in that sublime acclaim,
And, O day, happy and divine!
That brings back Cæsar, I'll exclaim:
May aid in that sublime acclaim,
And, O day, happy and divine!
That brings back Cæsar, I'll exclaim:
Then, as in pomp he moves along,
O triumph! triumph! we will sing,
All Rome; and, in a general throng,
Sweet incense to the temples bring.
O triumph! triumph! we will sing,
All Rome; and, in a general throng,
Sweet incense to the temples bring.
Thy mighty herds shall largely bleed,
For me a steerling shall suffice,
That, wanton in the spacious mead,
Proves for my vows a sacrifice:
For me a steerling shall suffice,
That, wanton in the spacious mead,
Proves for my vows a sacrifice:
185
His beaming front, like Luna, glows,
When the third night in Heav'n she reigns;
And dazzling, as the Winter snows,
One mark, but yellow what remains.
When the third night in Heav'n she reigns;
And dazzling, as the Winter snows,
One mark, but yellow what remains.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |