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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Guilt.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Guilt.
See Conscience Evil.
The lovely Huntress, rising from the Grass,With down-cast Eyes, and with a blushing Face,
By Shame confounded, and by Fear dismay'd,
Flew from the Covert of the conscious Shade;
And (such the wild Confusion of her Mind,)
Had almost left her Bow and Shafts behind.
How plainly in the Look doth Guilt appear!
Slowly she mov'd, and loiter'd in the Rear:
Nor lightly trip'd, nor by the Goddess ran,
As once she us'd, the foremost of the Train.
Her Cheeks were flush'd, and sullen was her Mein,
That sure the Virgin Goddess (had she been
Aught but a Virgin) must the Guilt have seen.
The Nymphs, 'tis said, perceiv'd it.—
The wretched
Maid rejoyc'd the News to hear,
But clog'd with Guilt, her Joy was unsincere:
So various, so discordant is the Mind,
That in our Will a diff'rent Will we find.
But clog'd with Guilt, her Joy was unsincere:
So various, so discordant is the Mind,
That in our Will a diff'rent Will we find.
Thus far her Courage held, but here forsakes:
Her faint Knees knock at every Step she makes.
The nearer to her Crime, the more within
She feels Remorse and Horror of her Sin:
Repents too late her criminal Desire,
And wishes, that unknown she could retire.—
Her faint Knees knock at every Step she makes.
The nearer to her Crime, the more within
She feels Remorse and Horror of her Sin:
Repents too late her criminal Desire,
And wishes, that unknown she could retire.—
Myrrha in love with her own Father, was brought to his Bed in Disguise, by the Contrivance of her old Nurse.
Fly diverse, struck with Fear: and skulking seek
The Woods, and Caves: Their Enterprize they loath,
And conscious shun the Light.—
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Led a long Death in everlasting Night:
But tho' he dwells where not a chearful Ray
Can pierce the Darkness, and abhors the Day,
The clear, reflecting Mind, presents his Sin,
In frightful Views, and makes it Day within:
Returning Thoughts in endless Circles roll,
And thousand Furies haunt his guilty Soul.—
Oedipus having killed his Father Laius, and married his Mother Jocasta, was so tormented in Mind that he tore out his own Eyes.
Or when his Ev'ning Beams the West adorn,
When the South glows with his Meridian Ray,
And the cold North receives a fainter Day:
For Crimes like these, not all those Realms suffice,
Were all those Realms the guilty Victor's Prize!—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |